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Barracks Bitch


Assmunch

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It had been a hard week. Our platoon was out in the field on training maneuvers. We arrived back at the barracks tired, muddy, and chilled to the bone.  We figured out two days in that Sarge, being the asshole he is, didn’t tell us we’d be camping out and in the open the entire week so he could teach us a ‘readiness’ lesson.  It was November for fuck’s sake.  We had no gear, no cover, no vest, just boots, fatigues and weapons.  Two of those things were what Sarge called ‘the only things a soldier needs’.  Boots and weapons.  A soldier fights naked if he has to.  Readiness was the army code word for surprise.  And in the army, there are never any good surprises.  The cold soaking rain certainly wasn’t, and I just knew Sarge had scouted the weather ahead of time.  Ironically, the mud we crawled through, slogged through, choked on and wore actually provided a slight extra insulation.  Even if we could have showered we probably wouldn’t have, aside from the rain which did little to make us feel clean.  You reach a point where the pain and dirt just feels normal.  Still, it was rough.  But if you didn’t like roughing it in the Army, you should have joined the Air Force.  Those words of wisdom from Sarge were our mantra.  He seemed to get intense satisfaction from driving us past our limits.  Asshole.  But he was OUR asshole and we considered him one of our brothers.  Our older, dickwad asshole brother, but still a brother.

 

We all trudged into the barracks looking forward to shucking our muddy battle dress, getting a hot shower, and having a weekend of partying and rest.  Addison, whose nickname was Sleeper, was already peeling off his uniform before he even took two steps inside the door.  I had to chuckle, our training was that ingrained.  In the barracks, dress code was relaxed.  You could walk around naked if you wanted, which many of the guys did during down time.  You didn’t do it during duty hours, but only because of Sarge’s ‘readiness’ drills.  Sucks to be you if you were the last one to fall in.  Sucks to be you if you fall in with one hair out of place.  But one step outside the barracks door was the Army’s world, and Sarge looked for any excuse, any infraction to heap a shitload of abuse and punishment on the slacker.  And sometimes we ALL paid a price.   But cross that threshold and Sleeper rarely waited to get butt as naked.

 

Sleeper was naked before the last guy got through the door.  Of course.  Sleeper wasn’t shy.  He flaunted his athletic, beefy magnificence.  We gave him the nickname because he had been a wrestler in high school, all state in the 190 lb weight class.  He was used to locker rooms, group showers, hanging out naked with the guys.  At 6’1” he was obviously a beast in high school, and a year in the Army had packed on 30 more pounds of muscle.  6’1”, 220 just sat well on him, with his ridiculous casual masculine swagger.  When we first thought up the name, it was because Holler, whose real name was Foger, thought Sleeper was talking about t.v. wrestling and asked him if he knew how to do the Sleeper hold.  Hell, most of us thought it was a good question, but Sleeper scowled and educated us about freestyle competition wrestling and what you could and couldn’t do.  Some of the stuff they did when the ref couldn’t see was downright brutal.  Fingers in the asshole, gripping nuts, grinding your junk into their face, stuff like that.  He said the refs tended to ignore that stuff as long as it was during the execution of a move.  But deliberately cutting off your opponent’s air and blood supply was unsportsmanlike and unnecessary roughness, two fouls that could get you a point penalty at least, and disqualified at worst.  But the name Sleeper stuck, and he gradually accepted that you don’t get to choose your nickname, and his was mild compared to some of the others.  Even Holler was a rather tame nickname, we just couldn’t come up with anything really clever for that backwoods redneck.  Every word he spoke had a slurred country drawl so thick it needed a translation.  It was so bad that Puta, our New York Puerto Rican brother asked ‘Ay Puta, were ya born in a holler down in kintuckee?’ Fuck, he tried to mimic Holler’s southern accent, but it was nowhere near and the rest of us about cried we laughed so hard.  Holler glared at Puta, but we all knew nothing was going to happen.  Holler was about 140 lbs soaking wet, a scrawny, gangly little shit.  Puta would break him like a twig.  Puta called everyone Puta unless he was being serious.  That’s how he got his nickname.  We told him we’d stop calling him that when he stopped calling everyone that.  He just said ‘Ay, fuck you puta.’  Just a bunch of guys going around calling each other ‘whore’ in Spanish.  Gotta love the Army.

 

Enough about that, you’ll learn the other brother’s names later.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, Sleeper’s big round marble white ass rumbling towards the showers, two globes of perfect muscle stacked on tree trunk thighs that flared out beyond his narrow hips.  It looked like snow on hills, he was so white.  Still, he wasn’t the biggest brother, nor the most built.  That honor belonged to Zeus.  Holy shit, Zeus was just blessed by the Gods.  No one bothered Zeus.  Not that Zeus was mean, or angry, or frightening.  Zeus was a clam, silent giant.  Even when he looked at us individually, it never seemed to be a judgement.  He was difficult to figure out.  Sometimes, rarely, he smiled at a joke someone made.  If you got that smile from him, that rare emotional response, you felt like you won some big prize.  He just had….something.  Something the rest of us wished we could learn.  But we settled with just basking in its effects when Zeus deigned to interact with us poor mortals.

 

“Which one of you grunts messed up my beautiful barracks with your fucking filth!?!” came the roar from behind us.  At this point we were all, except Zeus, at least half undressed.  Zeus hadn’t made a single move to get undressed.  “Fall in!”

 

Fuck!  Sarge knew there was no way we could NOT muck up the place.  Hell, half of us, like Sleeper, undressed just a couple steps inside, so we WOULDN’T create a mess we’d just have to clean up.  32 filthy guys in limited square feet peeling off shoes, socks, uniforms, underwear, no one cared what body part pressed up against who.  All asses and armpits, as Sarge says.

 

We scrambled immediately into formation.  Footlong (we WANTED to call him horsedick but better sense prevailed) wasn’t even half out of his pants and he had to waddle into line and just leave them around his knees, his wet boxer briefs suctioned to his namesake down his right leg.  His absurd double doorknob sized balls hung down the other leg, almost hanging as low as his cock.  He said he had to divide them up like that or it was just too much meat in one place.

 

Sarge’s green eyes gazed at the floor, sweeping in lazy arcs, an angry frown deepening with every smear of mud he saw.  He looked up at the wall beside the door where a muddy handprint marred the whitewash.

 

Quietly…dangerously… he said “who is barrack’s bitch this week?”

 

We all went white when we heard him say barrack’s bitch.  That was supposed to be a secret.  How’d he find out?  Barrack’s bitch was our little hazing game on Saturday nights, the only night of the week when we were on post that we could let loose.  One brother, chosen at random from a hat, had to take orders from anyone who gave it, do anything they were told.  Barrack’s Bitch bought the beer, or liquor for those who wanted that.  Barrack’s bitch fetched refills, cleaned up spills, did party tricks for our amusement, was subservient at all times, and basically let the rest of us feel just a little power and control, for just a brief moment, in our powerless grunt lives.  I forget who originally came up with the idea, maybe it was Bootlicker, he always had great ideas.  He was easily the smartest of all of us.  How he ended up eating mud with the rest of us in a rainy miserable November, I’ll never know.  He could have gone to college.

 

“Someone better speak up.  I can take away your Saturday anytime I want.  A sergeant doesn’t repeat himself.”

 

“Wanker is Barrack’s bitch, Sarge. “ Wanker said.  Oh fuck, we owed him big.  We hadn’t had a chance to do the drawing yet, so technically we didn’t have a bitch this week.  Wanker fucking volunteered.  And you NEVER volunteer in the Army.  I felt bad that Wanker was probably going to spend the next three hours of his liberty cleaning up our mess.

 

“Excellent.  Outstanding. You were on my list anyway.“ Sarge said with every inflection of sarcasm he could milk from his cold, dead heart.  “Private Wanker, you’re with me.  The rest of you animals better remove any sign of your unfortunate presence from my barracks before I get back.  She better shine and glow like a virgin after her first fuck.”   He stared at us for a three count.

 

“MOVE YOUR SORRY FUCKING ASSES, GRUNTS! IT WAS NOT A REQUEST.”

 

We damn near injured ourselves as we darted around picking up clothing, it didn’t matter whose.  Sleeper grabbed someone’s underwear, the cleanest thing he could find, and started wiping up mud, the globes of his chiseled ass vibrating while his dick and balls swung between his legs like a fucking bell ringing that the pope had died.  That gave everyone the idea, and, well… that was how 30 soldiers ended up naked and scrubbing mud with their own underwear on their hand and knees while Sarge watched for a minute.  Satisfied that we were doing the job, he turned and left, with Wanker following his beefy back, Sarge’s pristine uniform dry, spotless and pressed like he hadn’t spent a week babysitting idiots sitting in mud.  What the fuck?  He had MAYBE 45 seconds between when we left the transport and when he came through the barrack’s door.  How could he be clean, dry and spotless?

 

Anyway, not even Sarge said anything to Zeus, who still stood absolutely silent at parade rest, staring at the rest of us working.  He’d never undressed.  His fatigues were muddy, but his boots were clean.  I guess he didn’t feel like he made a mess, so he wasn’t going to clean it up, and no one was going to say anything about it.  Zeus was…. well, confusing would be a good word.

 

So we got everything cleaned up, our faces up someone else’s ass until it was spotless.  Then we hit the showers.  Everyone except Zeus.  We took our time, looking forward to the party, letting the hot water soak away our tiredness.

 

“Should we wait for Wanker?  Or should we choose another bitch?”  Dimples asked?  No, he didn’t have dimples when he smiled.  Not on those cheeks anyway.

 

“Fuck dat.” Puta replied.  “Dat puta volunteered.  I’m no gonna be putting my name in a hat dis week.  Das all I care about.  He be back soon.”

 

We all silently agreed.  After all, he escaped having to mop up mud with someone’s dirty underwear.  Soon we were all cleaned up and feeling fresh.  It took a while to get clean.  We all dried off and went to our bunks to throw on some clothes, even if it was just a pair of socks or underwear.  Footlong of course wore his usual boxer briefs.  He didn’t like anyone looking at his massive cock, which was difficult NOT to look at when it swung free.

 

Zeus got up and went to the showers.  He never showered with the brothers.  He just waited patiently, quietly doing his quiet thing.  We did notice though, that while we were using up all the hot water, he’d cleaned the mud from all our boots, and put them at the end of the bunks.  Our fatigues were piled neatly, still muddy, on an empty rack near the corner.  Zeus was a good guy, an excellent soldier.  He just didn’t like to join the group.  I did wonder why we’d never chosen his name for Barrack’s bitch, though.  But, as with everything else, I just figured he was blessed by the Gods.

 

About that time Wanker returned.  He seemed a little jumpy, and stripped down to go shower himself.

 

“You gotta wait, Wanker.” I said.

 

“What for, Assmunch?  I don’t start bitchwork yet.”

 

Yeah, that’s me.  Assmunch.  It USED to be Scarlett on account of how red I turned when angry, exerting myself, embarrassed… hell, I turned red if I breathed.  But one of my turns at Barrack’s bitch went a bit wild.  I violated the subservience rule, and was ordered to kiss the brother’s ass that I’d offended.

 

“Kiss it.” Sleeper said, presenting his amazing ass to my face.  Troll and Cellblock held me on my knees to either side.

 

Cellblock pushed my face closer.  I could feel the hot, damp atmosphere of Sleeper’s sweaty, hairless crack hitting me like a sauna.

 

“Oh look, Scarlett is all red.” Troll laughed.  “Your brother gave you an order.  Kiss. His. Ass.”

 

I darted in and gave his left asscheek a quick peck.

 

“Oh, that makes the other cheek lonely.  Scarlett, be a pal and kiss the other one” Sleeper said with a dirty grin.  “But I’m not your sister.  Kiss it like you mean it.  “

 

Truth was, it wasn’t a big deal.  It was just his butt, and it was a nice one.  But acting like I hated it was part of the game.  So I pressed my lips to his right asscheek and made out with it.  Damn, it was solid, and smooth, and tasted of sweat and that cheap soap we used.  I pulled away after ten seconds.

 

“I think he was into it, bro” Cellblock commented.  “His tongue tasted all of that lily white booty.”

 

“Really?  Did you like the taste of my ass, bitch?”  Sleeper looked over his shoulder with eyebrows raised.  “Don’t be ashamed to admit it.  I know it’s a piece of grade a prime beef.  It should taste delicious.”  He flexed his ass  then wiggled it in my face.  “But that wasn’t the best part.  You gotta get deep in the meat near the bone for the most flavor. “

 

He bent over, his cheeks spread as he looked at me from between his knees.  I’d never been this close to another man’s asshole, and the sight kinda stunned me for a second.  I don’t know if all assholes looked like his, but it seemed like it was all just smooth white skin with a tiny little rift.  No hair, no pucker, no visible difference from the asscheek I just frenched.  I looked at him, his eyes daring me, that confident grin.  He was a rotten handsome prick.  But, if I was going to lick anyone’s asshole, my best friend’s was probably the only one.

 

“Fuck it.” I said.  The guys were all gathered around, hooting, catcalling, laughing.  They were going to witness this bullshit with horrified attention like a car wreck you couldn’t look away from.  And I was determined to make it as unpleasant for them as I could.  Which meant going full on gay with it.

 

“Lemme have my arms.” I said to Cellblock and Troll.  They dutifully released me and stood fascinated to see if I’d go through with it.

 

I placed my hands on his ass, gripping his glutes, pushing his cheeks together and apart.  “You ready?  After this, you’re gonna understand why the ladies love me.  When I go down, I give it everything I got.  You’re going to beg me to do this to you again.”

 

“You ain’t never had no ladies.  Don’t try to lie.  You probably gonna leave bite marks on his shitter.”  Cellblock said.

 

With that, I dove in.  I kept his asscheeks apart so the guys could watch my big tongue slurp right up his crack, starting at his taint and pushing upwards across his insanely perfect hole to the end of his crack.

 

“Oh shit!  He really went in!” Troll said.  The other brothers varied in their reactions, from disgust to cheering.

 

I zeroed in on the target, my mouth open, and smothered his almost hidden sphincter with my tongue.  Sleeper let out an involuntary “ohhhhhh fuck” and I moved my hands to his thighs and pulled him into me as I began assaulting that hole with my tongue, lips, nose, chin, just grinding away with heavy slurping noises, tons of saliva and noises like I was eating the best meal of my life.  Sleeper was trying not to move, but I could feel slight pushes and tiny flexes of his thighs I was gripping.  I no longer had any awareness of what the guys were doing, simply lost in eating Sleeper’s asshole like a pussy.

 

“Shit dude.  You gotta stop.” He said after a minute or so.  I didn’t know how long I was in there.

 

“You sure, sir?” I mumbled from between his cheeks.

 

“Dude, stop.  Okay… you’re done.”  I pulled away, my face wet.  I’m sure I was red as a beet, but it was worth it.  I looked down at his face, still between his legs, his eyes were closed and he was breathing a little heavy.  I noticed his dick was almost hard, his foreskin pulled almost all the way back, and he was leaking pre-cum.  He reached up between his legs and swiped across his asshole, probably to give himself a moment to recover and get rid of the dick slime dripping off his cock so the guys wouldn’t see.  Looks like Sleeper enjoyed it more than a little, I thought.  I had to admit, I enjoyed it too.  Not too much different than eating pussy.

 

“Now I have assmunching juice all over me!” He growled.

 

“You asked for it, and I did warn you.” I replied, wiping my face with my hand.

 

“How’d it taste, Assmunch?  Looks like he gave you a full helping.  You were buried up his crack for five minutes.  We couldn’t even see your nose.”  Bootlicker jibed.

 

“Tasted like freedom, America, and grunt beef!” I laughed back.

 

Sleeper was still bent over, his hands on his knees.  His ass still near my face, cheeks spread, his shiny asshole clenching and releasing.  “Whew, I need a beer.  Bitch, get me a beer.  It’s gonna take me a minute to dry out.  Felt like you were trying to taste what I had for breakfast.  Holy good God in heaven.  “

 

“Be right back. “.

 

So… Assmunch stuck.  You gotta roll with the punches.   Sleeper and I would later have a heart to heart about my skills, but that’s a story for later.   We were best buds, of course we were going to talk about it.  And more it turns out.

 

Where was I?  Oh yeah, Wanker stripped down headed to the showers.

 

“What for Assmunch?”

 

“Zeus is in there.  You gotta wait.”  I told him.

 

Wanker sighed, knowing he had to let Zeus take his shower alone.  He went to his bunk, looking like he hurt his leg or something.  He wasn’t walking right.

 

The rest of the guys were hyping up for our party, ready to get things moving.

 

“You okay Wanker?  What’s up with you? “ I asked.  “If you need to go see medical, we can choose another bitch.  But you did get off easy not having to clean up.  What did Sarge want, anyway?”

 

“It’s no big deal.  Just a sore hip.” He said morosely, which was out of character for him.  He was usually one of the funny ones, always cracking jokes.  Even when we caught him in the toilet whacking off he just laughed and busted his nut right in front of us.  He actually hit Sackless right on the chin with one of his spurts.  Wanker’s got a fucking firehose when he shoots.  He’s the distance champion for nut AND piss out of all of us.  “Sarge just needed to discipline me for something.  I kinda fucked up, but he’s going to give me a pass this time.”

 

“Fuck man, that sounds serious.  What’d you do?”  I asked.

 

“It was supposed to be a joke, just a prank on the Charlies.  You know those guys are dickwads, not like us.  Well, THEIR Sarge raised hell with our Sarge.”

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” I stressed again.

 

“Put liquid contact adhesive in their shampoo dispenser.”

 

“Sounds like a Bootlicker idea” I mused, laughing.  “Oh that’s evil.  But wouldn’t they have to use it right away?  Or it’d just turn to rubber, right?”

 

“No, that’s the beauty of it.” Wanker said, without any enthusiasm at all.  “If it doesn’t contact air, it stays liquid.  Bootlicker knows his shit.  That’s why the Charlies look like green recruits now.  They had to shave their heads just like in boot camp.  Bald as babies.  They finally grew their hair back this year, and they had to shave it all again.”

 

“Fucking classic.  Doesn’t sound like anything that the Sarges would get involved in though.”

 

Wanker sighed.  “The shampoo dispensers were trashed.  Had to be replaced.  Sarge said willful destruction of Army property is taken very seriously.  I woulda been fucked.”  He paused, closed his eyes.  In a weak voice almost too quiet to hear he continued “I WAS fucked.”

 

I was puzzled why he wasn’t happier.  “But you said Sarge gave you a pass.”

 

Wanker looked me dead in the eye and repeated “no, I was fucked.”  There was a change in his emphasis that seemed odd.

 

“God don’t be dumb, Assmunch.  That’s how I got the pass.  Charlie’s Sarge plowed his huge Hungarian dick into my ass.  I was fucked by Sergeant Charlie.  And he didn’t pull out, use a condom or go easy.  He ripped me apart and busted in my asshole, which is still dripping his nut, while I was bent over Sarge’s desk like a cheap whore.   I squatted as soon as I was outside, but fuck there’s like a gallon of it in me, it just keeps coming out.”  Wanker was damn near crying, but he was keeping it together .  Soldiers don’t cry.  “Don’t tell the guys.  I shouldn’t even have told you.  Okay?”

 

“You don’t have to worry, Parker.” I said.  Just using his first name sounded weird to me, but this was no time for juvenile nicknames.  “I’m glad you told me.  Are you okay?  Do you need me to do anything?”

 

“I’ll be fine.  It’s not the end of the world.  I took my punishment.  I agreed to it.’ He said with a morose chuckle.  “And honestly, it would have been worse getting demoted and having to leave you guys, maybe leave the Army.  That would have hurt way more I think.”

 

I nodded, understanding.  Pain was a known quantity, we lived and breathed pain.  We carried on.  It was all bearable when you had your brothers beside you.

 

“But, I need a favor.  Later, not now.” He said.

 

“Name it, brother, it’s yours.” I replied.

 

“After the party, I need you to look at my ass.  It felt like he broke something inside me.  I can’t ask anyone else, don’t want to go to the infirmary and answer a lot of questions.  I figure you’d probably know what to look for after being up Sleeper’s hole that time.  You can say no.”

 

I pulled him into a deep hug.  “I’d be honored to.  After the party.”  I held him for a few more seconds, and felt the tension drain from his body.

 

Looking like he felt better, we saw Zeus coming back, fully clothed in some pajamas his mom probably sent him.  Little German Shepard puppies frolicking all over them, but no one said a word.  He didn’t even look stupid wearing pajamas a six year old would wear.  Fuck, I wish I had half of whatever God blood flowed through his steel veins.  Where she found puppy dog pajamas to fit a 6’5” hulk that barely fit into his fatigues was a mystery only she knew.  Zeus walked to his bunk like he was dressed in biker’s leathers, or fucking medieval armor.

 

“Go clean up, I’ll stall the brothers.” I told Wanker.  “I’ll set up for you so they don’t get cranky.”  We both knew if they got cranky Wanker would be given way more shit than usual.

 

He walked away.  I turned to Zeus.  “Thanks for doing our boots Zeus.  That was really nice of you.”

 

He turned to me, almost to see if I was being sarcastic.  I wasn’t.  Then he smiled and I felt the world shift.  For a moment I felt like the star of his world.  I know I was lighting up red, probably the reddest I’ve ever been, but fuck if I cared.  I couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from his piercing hazel eyes.

 

“”It’s okay Andrew.  I didn’t help clean.” His voice was a physical sensation, a vibration that caressed my entire body.  It was deep, gentle but with a force like a wave that moves you without harm or pressure.  He wasn’t even trying to be charming or dominant or alpha, all of those things were just exuded naturally from every pore on his body.  I would have cut my own throat at that moment, with a smile, if he but asked.

 

Did he know?  Did he realize how he affected all of us?  Did he see my absolute capitulation and hero worship written on my face?  I couldn’t hide it if I tried, my brain made no sense when he looked at me.  During hushed conversations with the brothers, we realized he affected every single one of us the same way.  Hell, Puta had never once called Zeus ‘Puta’, that was how altering Zeus was.  Sarge never screamed at him, ever.

 

“I was going to shine them, but you guys weren’t in the shower long enough.”  He almost sounded like he was apologizing to me.  What the fuck, no that wasn’t going to happen.  He wasn’t anyone that should apologize.

 

“It was nice enough that you got the mud off.  And we used all the hot water, which was an asshole thing to do.  We didn’t deserve for you to do anything nice for us.”

 

I swear this was the most Zeus had said to any one of us.  What the fuck was going on tonight?  Wanker gets ass raped, and agreed to it no less, got flooded with jizz, is still going to be Barrack’s bitch, and now Zeus is having a fucking conversation with me, a blessed fucking pleasant conversation with a God like any of that is normal.

 

I’m having a stroke.  That’s the only explanation.  I’m out of my mind near death and it’s all a hallucination.

 

Zeus looked down at his feet hanging off the end of his bunk.  I got a sudden feeling that he was sad.

 

“It’s okay.  The water was still warm.  It felt good after being in the cold rain.  You guys are always so nice to me.  I’m not good at the stuff you do for fun.” He said softly, trying to be quiet.  I guess he didn’t want the brothers to overhear us.

 

“Is that why you always stay in your bunk?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

That hit me hard.  We’re we excluding one of our brothers because we thought he was too good for our foolish games?  When he sat apart watching us have fun and never inviting him?  Did he not think he was a God above all of us?

 

“Zeus.  Look at me, please.” I said.

 

He looked over.  His deep hazel eyes had a sad hope.  It crushed me completely.

 

“Do you know why we call you Zeus?”  I asked.

 

“Because I’m big?” He guessed.

 

I almost laughed.  But I didn’t want to ruin this moment.  “No Zeus, we call you that because your brothers and I think that you are a God walking among us.  Yeah, being tall, with those insane muscles helps.  But there’s so much more about you we like.  We love that everything you do is perfect.  You ace every task.  You never fuck up, or say something dumb, or do ANYTHING wrong.  When you walk, it’s like watching a wild animal stalk its prey.  When you speak, your voice rumbles like thunder.  When you look at us, like you’re looking at me now, our souls tremble.  We don’t know why, but you have something incredible in you that just comes out and hits us like lightning.  We’ve all just accepted that you’re the best of all of us.  That’s just how it is.  We’ve talked about it.  If we were back in time, you’d be our king.  I know it sounds stupid, but we literally worship the ground you walk on. “

 

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew.” He said.

 

A cold knot formed in my stomach.  He had some dark secret he couldn’t tell us?  Fuck all.  My mind was spinning.  How the fuck do I handle this?  The other part of my brain kicked in.  The side that was smart, that argued against doing stupid shit.  It said two words: so what?  So what if he has a dark secret?  He’s your brother, and you don’t abandon a brother.

 

“Zeus, my brother, nothing you can tell me would change a thing.  You could have fucked your cousin and I wouldn’t care.”  That got a grin from him.  “I don’t care if you sucked dick for money and took it up the ass from Abdul the clerk at the corner stop and shop.  Wouldn’t change a thing. “ I thought I saw him give a barely perceptible jerk at that.  Nah, couldn’t be.  Could it?  I mean, I wanted to know, but NOT know.  “Of course, the only thing that might change would be I’d need a special favor now and then, if you know what I mean.” I joked.  I grinned back at him, gauging his reaction.

 

He seemed to deflate, like he all the sudden relaxed from an incredible heavy load he’d been carrying.  “You mean it, Andrew?”

 

“I mean it.  And, starting now, you gotta start using our nicknames.  That’s what brothers do.  I’m Assmunch.  Don’t much like it, but I earned it.  ” I told him.

 

“Why do they call you Assmunch?” He asked sincerely.  Man, his voice.

 

I figured if my guess was right, he’d like the story, so I told him about tongue raping Sleeper’s ass.  He sat there staring at me with eyes that just got wider and wider.

 

“No way!” He exclaimed, the most intense emotion I’d ever seen come out of him.

 

“Oh yes.  Five minutes they said I ate his ass.  You know the best part?”

 

He was hooked, leaning forward.  “What?”

 

“Sleeper got a boner and was leaking dickjuice everywhere.  He had to hide it from the other guys, but I saw it.  You can’t tell anyone though.  We gotta keep the secret that Sleeper just loves to get his ass eaten.”

 

“Wow!  Really? Sleeper?”

 

“Yeah, he’s really got the best ass.  I’ve been taking care of him about once a week since then.  We have a deal.  I eat his ass until he cums, sometimes without even touching his dick.  And then he gives me a handjob and I get to shoot my load.”

 

“Do you like it?” He asked, way more interested than I’d ever seen him be.  He wasn’t calm and aloof anymore.  “You know, eating his ass?”

 

“Yeah, not too different than eating pussy.  Taste is different, and it’s just my spit and no pussy juice, but to be honest what I like most is how it gets Sleeper all worked up.  I’d do anything for him.  He’s my best friend. “

 

Zeus nodded.  “Yeah, I can see that.  I like Sleeper too.  He’s my favorite.”

 

I looked at Zeus, and rolled the dice.  I was pretty sure I was right.  But this would clinch it.  “You know, he’d probably love it if you wanted to give it a try.  The man really can’t get enough tongue in his ass.”  I left that hanging there, then continued.  “Come on, bring your puppy dog pajamas and help me set up for tonight.  You don’t have to stay, and I won’t say anything about what we talked about, okay?”

 

Zeus got up from his rack.  Looking down, he pulled out the bottom of his shirt.  “They’re German Shepards” he said, smiling like a kid.  Fuck I could just kiss him he was so friggin adorable right then.

 

Without thinking, I grabbed his sleeve and said “c’mon puppy, party’s this way”

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Fuck wish it was like that when I was in the Army. Some hot fuckers I'd have been happy to rim, suck, kiss, fuck, or get fucked by. I miss the gang showers, was fun joking around and checking out everyone's tats and of course seeing what they were packing.

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There’s more coming.  Thanks guys.  It IS of course fictionalized.  But I will say some of the stuff actually happened, just maybe not exactly the way I wrote it.  Deployment shenanigans are pretty common.   Some of the games/dares were things you’d never believe straight, serious soldiers would ever agree to.  Alcohol plus a sense of futility, and add loyalty and brotherhood… I saw more random stuff forced into meaty assholes than any porn movie could ever do justice to.  19 and 20 year olds really have no sense.  Anyway, next chapter is being written.  

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Dragging Zeus by his pajama sleeve felt weird.  But I was afraid if I let go, he’d go back to his bunk.  We reached the rec room down the corridor where we found the rest of the guys.  Wanker was still in the showers the other way.    The other platoons in our company were still out so we had the place all to ourselves.  We found out later that our Lieutenant and Sarge had gotten reprimanded for sending us out without gear.  Sucks to be them, I guess.

 

“Assmunch!  There you are!  Where’s our bitch?” Bootlicker yelled.

 

“Well he’s not in my ass, but you’re welcome to come take a look.” I shot back.

 

“I’ll be doing the looking with my dick, you sure you can take it?”  He boasted.

 

“That little carrot?  I’ve had shits bigger than your sad little pecker, Bootlicker.  I won’t even feel it.” I dropped drawers and bent over.  “If you want to embarrass yourself, bring it over. “

 

“Footling, go teach Assmunch a lesson.” Bootlicker pushed Footlong towards me.  I couldn’t get my boxers back up fast enough, which made everyone laugh.

 

Suddenly everyone noticed Zeus behind me.  They all froze, going quiet.

 

“Zeus is going to help me set things up while Wanker finishes up.  You should all say thank you to Zeus for cleaning your boots.” I told them.  “He doesn’t get down here often, so give him some brotherly love.”

 

The idiots just stared.

 

Channeling my best Sarge impression, I yelled in a voice of gravel “THAT WASN’T A REQUEST GRUNTS!”

 

Everyone spoke over each other.  “Thanks Zeus!” ; “Thank you for cleaning my boots, Zeus!” ; and even “We love you brother, you didn’t have to do that”.

 

Then someone started a chant.  “Zeus! Zeus! Zeus!” Carrying on for a good minute.

 

Zeus looked embarrassed.  “C’mon Zeus, let’s go get supplies” and we went through one of the other doors to our stash.  We knew Sarge probably knew about it, but looked the other way.

 

I grabbed a sleeve of the cheap styrofoam cups, and a grey rubber trash can and told Zeus to take them to the rec room.  Myself, I got a second bin and went to get ice.  Before I left I said “Zeus, in that closet over there, behind the crates on the left wall there’s an unsecured panel.  Inside that is the beer and liquor.  Take all of it.”

 

“Okay Andr… I mean Assmunch.”

 

“There’s a lot, so just get one of the other guys to help.  If Wanker is back, get him to do it.  If not, don’t ask someone, tell them to do it.  They won’t argue, trust me.”

 

I went for the ice.

 

Zeus went back to the rec room and deposited the stuff.

 

“Brickmann, I need your help.” Zeus said, singling out a brother standing with Puta and Troll.

 

“What?” Brickmann said.

 

Zeus just gazed at him, those eyes drilling into the smaller, blonde soldier.  Zeus’s face was placid, carved out of stone.  Nothing about the way he stood or looked said he was happy, nor angry.  But even so, a potential danger radiated from him.  Zeus exuded threat and power just standing there breathing, wearing puppy dog pajamas.  It would have been funny if anyone was brave enough to point out the joke.  “Demon come with me.” He repeated, taking the advice Assmunch had given him.

 

Demon, was only smaller in comparison to Zeus and Sleeper.  Almost 6 feet in height, he had a body like a swimmer, all shoulders and arms, narrow waist, a minimal ass that tapered into decent but unremarkable legs.  His dirty blonde hair stuck up at random tangled points just an inch above his head.  Demon never actually combed his hair unless he was in Class A’s.  He just mashed it down with his patrol cap or his brain bucket.     Demon was one of those who went balls to the wall regardless of what the activity or task was.  If you were in his way, you got trampled or pushed aside.  On the training courses he just threw himself onto every obstacle as if he were indestructible.  And maybe he was, because he never got injured.  If you were taking a position, he was out front, dodging, rolling, skidding, diving, damn near flying.  He was a fucking demon.  Bouncing off some object to redirect, I swear he moved horizontally like he was just running on the ground.  And he was impossible to track, you couldn’t guess his direction from his trajectory or movement, position of his feet, nothing.  That old fighting trick where you watch the hips to read where your opponent would be, useless with Demon.  You never put Demon on point, because there was no holding him back.  Troll was his minder, tasked with keeping Demon in position.  Troll would just grab him by his OTV and say “Stay, Demon. Stay.  Good boy.”  Demon would huff but stay.  You didn’t have a chance in hell of getting out of Troll’s grip.  And Troll wasn’t anything special.  Just a 5’8” 180 lb. fire hydrant with a low center of gravity and feet that couldn’t be dislodged from the earth.  Troll was the only guy Sleeper couldn’t dominate in hand to hand.  He couldn’t move him or throw him.  Sleeper’s only play with Troll was to lift him off the ground, and even then Troll found some way to make it difficult for Sleeper to put him down and pin him.  He was an immovable mountain.  A mountain just 5’8” tall.  The perfect Demonmaster.  It helped that the two of them were best friends, literal opposites, but matched perfectly in complement.  Where Demon was fast, bouncing around like a ping pong ball, running hot like a V-8 going 100 mph, Troll was solid, slow, deliberate and predictable, cool and deep like glacial fjord.  The most common order given to the two of them was “Troll, you’re demonmaster until we reach this point, the let the Demon loose.  Demon, secure this location here.  We’ll be along after.”

 

Demon didn’t say another word, just fell in behind Zeus.  They soon had the alcohol laid out, and no one was waiting for me to get back with the ice, already pouring shots.  Sleeper just grabbed a beer and drank it warm.

 

I returned, dragging my tub filled with ice, cokes, and other drinks from the mess.  I had to get Zeus to help me carry it inside.  Well, I say help… he just lifted the whole damn thing like it weighed a couple pounds.

 

Of course, that was when Wanker finally showed up.  Wearing basketball shorts.  Limping.  Of course the guys were going to give him shit.

 

The party went well, no fights, probably because everyone was exhausted, which was good.  Wanker played his part, really overdoing it with the subservience thing but it kept the brothers happy and off his ass.  I did have to put a stop to Bootlicker ordering Wanker to drop trou and give him 20.  I told him his privilege had been revoked tonight because of the shampoo dispenser incident.  That Wanker hadn’t ratted him out to Sarge, so in return the bitch didn’t have to follow his orders.

 

Bootlicker actually seemed sorry, which was probably an act.  But he didn’t escalate it.  I carried weight with the brothers for some reason.  I didn’t really know why, but I was always the one they came to with a problem, or for advice, or just to bitch and moan.  The Army calls that leadership, but swear to God I didn’t do anything special.  I was just me.  When I made a rule, called a halt to something, or made a decision they just fell in line.  Maybe it was because Sleeper was my best friend, and they knew he’d back me up.  Whatever.  I didn’t abuse their trust, my only goal was everyone’s well-being.

 

As the guys stumbled back to their bunks, drunk and happy, I helped Wanker clean up and remove all the evidence we were ever there.  Zeus sat over in a corner looking happy.  He didn’t drink, just had water all night.  I think he had fun just being in the same room with everyone else.

 

“Is now a good time, Wanker?” I asked, not forgetting my promise from earlier.  Besides, I needed to get it done, and get him and Zeus to bed so Sleeper could get his fix.

 

“Yeah.  Where?” He asked.

 

“Either the latrine or storage room.  We can have Zeus stand guard.” I suggested.

 

“Yeah, then the storage room.  He can be at the end of the hallway, so he can’t hear anything.”

 

“He’d keep it quiet even if he did.  Zeus doesn’t say much.”

 

“Okay.  Let’s do this.”  He said walking down the corridor.

 

“Zeus, you mind standing guard over here?  Don’t let anyone in.”

 

The big man got to his feet.  “Sure Assmunch.  Whatever you want.”

 

He didn’t even ask why.  Just did what I asked.

 

In the storage room with the door closed, Wanker took a deep breath.

 

“Alright, pull em down, buddy.” I told him.

 

Wanker pulled down the basketball shorts, and his underwear.  I saw just a tiny bit of pinkish blood mixed with a wet area that was probably Sergeant Charlie’s cum.   

 

“You weren’t lying, I think his cum is still coming out.  There’s only a little blood though, which is good.”

 

“Still?  I even farted out more in the shower.  How much cum could he possibly have shot up there?  Fuck my life.” Wanker complained.

 

“Well, bend over, let me see your hole.”  He obediently laid his chest on the crate in front of him and I spread his cheeks apart.

 

“Well, your asshole looks a bit swollen, a bit red, but there’s no damage outside that I can see.” I reported.  “You do have a different asshole than Sleeper though, so that might be normal.  I haven’t seen a lot of assholes up close and personal though.  But yours looks like what I’d expect, minus the redness and slight swelling.

 

Wanker breathed deeply again.  “Can you… check inside?  It feels different in there.  And if there’s no damage outside, what about the blood?”

 

“There’s not much blood at all in your shorts, buddy.  Your ass would be like any other part of your body.  A big wound would bleed a lot.  A small cut, only a little.  Seems like you only got tore up a little.”  Kneeling behind him it was a little hard to see, too many shadows.  Hop up and sit on the crate.  I need you to lift your legs and spread em.”

 

He did as he was told.  But just bent at the knee with his thighs poking straight up.

 

“More,  grab behind your knees an pull them to either side of your chest.” I showed him how Sleeper did it so I could have full, deep access to his hole, get my tongue as far up inside him as he needed.  Of course, I didn’t tell him that.  Thoughts of Sleeper and our weekly appointment started my dick rising.  Fuck.  Well Zeus would keep him busy until I was done here.

 

“That’s it.  Breathe.  Relax.” I gently moved my hands on his cheeks, trying to be soothing while I took another look.  “Can you push out a little?  Just like, relax and try to fart, just a little. “. I saw his puffy hole unclench, just kind of spread a little and push outward.   He moaned a bit.

 

“Does that feel better?” I asked.

 

“God, yeah, it does.  Why?”

 

“You’re probably clenched too tight unconsciously, because of what happened.  And you’re worried about blood and cum spilling out, would be my guess.  There can’t be that much left.  Just relax, let it go, it’s okay.” I encouraged him.

 

My hands still rubbing his cheeks, I moved my thumbs to his hole and started massaging it.  He moaned again.  “That’s it buddy, you’re doing great.  Just completely relax, I got you bro.  Don’t worry about what might come out.  Don’t push hard, just relax into it.”  My thumbs we’re still pressing, rubbing, pulling apart, basically manipulating his asshole to gradually relax.  A glob of whitish liquid appeared.  I used it to continue to work his hole.

 

“Uuuunnnggghhhh, that feels so good.” He said, and I could see every part of him go limp.  Pain brings tension, pleasure brings relaxation.  I think I just figured out what Wanker needed.  Trouble was, if I told him, I’d be volunteered.  Which might be a problem for me.  I just didn’t know if I could do it.  First, I sure wasn’t going to eat his ass.  I wasn’t doing that to just any bro.  Not to mention the thought of Sergeant Charlie’s load still brewing up there just about made me gag at the thought.  No, I thought Wanker’s little starfish had been bent out of shape, and only physical stimulation or time was going to get him back up and running.  A pulled or cramped  muscle  needed massage.  And a sphincter was just another muscle.

 

I needed to test my theory.  “Okay Wanker, I’m going to try to get inside there.  Feel for anything strange.  You good with that ?”

 

“At this point, yeah.  Just keep that pressure going, it’s the first thing that helps.”

 

I dropped a healthy wad of spit into my hand to lube up his hole.  I decided my thumb would be a good start, because his hole seemed to want to let me push further.  After I got him more open I could feel around with my index and middle finger.  I settled my palm on his hairy taint, letting my fingers nuzzle his rather average sized balls, which were covered with coarse matted hair.  I couldn’t help but compare it with Sleeper’s crotch.  His entire ass, inside and out, was smooth and hairless.  His cock and balls he shaved smooth.  It definitely felt like night and day, but that steamy heat, the musky smell… that was the same.

 

My thumb made circles on Wanker’s hole, exerting increasing pressure every so often.  It was surprising when after just a bit of manipulation, my thumb slid in.  It didn’t pop in, or force its way in, it just glided through his pucker like sucking your thumb as a kid.  Nor did his hole clamp down after.  He let out a groan and said “oohhhhhhh, shit, that’s it.”

 

I pushed in past the knuckle and flexed, bending and extending, twisting my hand as I went.  I could kinda feel the smooth, but slimy walls hugging my thumb.  I went for a spot that seemed tight, at the top and pressed down.

 

“Ah! Right there!  Right there!” He panted.  “It’s like a mosquito bite that needs scratched. “  he put his hands on his ass and yanked his ass full open, his elbows holding back his knees, his head up, a look on his face like he was giving birth.

 

Jesus, what was the deal with me and assholes?  I had some freakish magic or something.  I just let intuition guide me, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, wasn’t trained, even if there was such a thing as an asshole whisperer.  Maybe I needed to switch careers and be a proctologist.  I could make a fortune just doing whatever I wanted to people’s assholes.

 

“Yeah!” He said.  “Do it more, doitmore doitmore, ahhh fuck don’t stop.”

 

I figured now was a good time to bring up my diagnosis and treatment.  Dr. Assmunch, reporting for duty.

 

Still yanking on his asshole from the inside with my bent thumb, now rougher, going deeper, pressing harder, I explained “ bro, this will heal up in a few days.  Your next few shits will probably be torture , but it’s nothing you can’t recover from.  There’s no blood, so you aren’t punctured.  “

 

“Okay, but you can do this until I do right?  It’s helping.  God it’s helping so much.  “.

 

I stood up, his flaccid dick leaking pre-cum.  He wasn’t even turned on, just leaking.  I knew nothing about prostates back then, or I’d have realized I was literally prostate milking him.

 

“Well, I could.  But really, to get back on your feet and back to normal, you need the hair of the dog that bit you.”  I explained.

 

He was just laying there groaning and grunting as I stretched out his hole.

 

“What?” He gasped between oh’s and moans.

 

“Don’t be dumb, Wanker.  You either need to work your hole with a dildo or something, or get someone to fuck you for a couple days.  Until your hole relearns how to be a good little turd cutting starfish.  “

 

“Stop joking around, Assmunch.  I don’t get fucked.”  He said, oblivious to the irony of my now two fingers violating him rather brutally.  The remains of Sergeant Charlie’s nut was making quite a mess down there as I thrust and twisted.  “Can’t you do it?  I’ll owe you.”

 

I looked down at him, feeling a bit sorry for him.  I don’t know what I would do in his place.  I’d probably just live with a painful itchy asshole.  But my ass didn’t send me any signals even when I took a dump.  I barely even felt it, no matter the size of the log I pushed out.  Wanker here, though, whether because of getting a dick-down or for some other reason, sure seemed to get all sorts of feelings from his hole.  Everyone is different, I suppose.

 

“You already owe me.  But I might have a solution that doesn’t involve me.  Which is what I’d prefer.” I said.  An idea came to me that might kill two birds with one stone.

 

“Okay, what do I have to do?” He said, resigned to the fact that he couldn’t argue with the relief, and even pleasure he was getting.

 

“You just have to stay like that and I’ll send Zeus in to do the job.” I explained.  My read on Zeus, from our earlier conversation, and his reluctance to engage with us, get naked or shower with anyone, was that our God was gay.  Everything made sense if you looked at it from that angle.  He was worried about nothing though.  The brothers wouldn’t care.  Zeus could perform, that’s the bottom line.  They’d tease him a bit, but not too much.  He was still Zeus and his natural supreme confidence, masculinity, command and subtle dangerous demeanor meant if he chose, he could force any or all of us into submission.  And when he got that particular look on his face, set his body just so, and a menace lit his eyes, he didn’t have to move or speak.

 

“WHAT?  No, bro don’t do that.  If he saw me like this he’d lose all respect for me.  The only reason you haven’t is because you know why this happened.  And what if he tells someone?”

 

“Zeus doesn’t work that way.  You know that.  He keeps his mouth shut, keeps to himself.  He’ll do it because he wants to be included more.  He’ll be willing to help you out.  He’ll even do the three day stretch you need.  It’s your only option unless you want to get a broom handle up there.  I’d recommend a condom though, splinters would be bad.  Or you could get a cucumber from the mess.  They might not even ask why you want to take a cucumber back to your bunk. “

 

I took that opportunity to pull my slimy fingers out of his ass.

 

He whimpered as his hole was left empty.  Actually whimpered.  “Fuck.  Okay, but only him. “ Wanker gave in.

 

“Oh, I have a feeling he’s going to be all you need, buddy.  If he’s not man enough for the job, none of us would be.”  I wiped my hand on Wanker’s underwear, and left the storage room.

 

Of course Sleeper would be there talking to Zeus at the corridor junction.  That wasn’t a problem though.  I needed to meet up with him anyway.  I walked up.

 

“What’s up, bro?” Sleeper asked me.  “Zeus wouldn’t let me past.  Said you’d be out soon.  What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing important.  Just a little project I’m working on.  I’ll have Zeus finish up.  Meet in the same place?  I asked him.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Cool, give me a few.  Gotta give Zeus some instructions and I’ll be right there. “

 

“Alright.  Hey Zeus, it was nice talking with you.  You’re pretty amazing.”   Sleeper said.

 

“Thanks for hanging out Sleeper.  You’re… “ there was a pause.  It almost seemed like he thought he’d gone too far.  “Good.”  That was the word he settled on, with a warm smile at Sleeper’s stunned face.

 

I could see Sleeper just collapse into mush with Zeus’ smile and words.  This was Sleeper, the rotten handsome prick with enough arrogance and self confidence to wet the panties of every woman who laid eyes on him.  The guy who could take on five of us at once and have us tangled up and eating dirt in two minutes.  The man who knew every designation, use, method and part to every weapon on the battlefield.

 

And he turned into an idol worshiping fan girl with just a smile from Zeus.  Yep, no one was going to have a problem with Zeus being gay.  There might be a problem with who got to suck his dick.  That was going to cause a few fights.

 

Sleeper left for our meeting spot.  I turned to Zeus.  “Wanker needs your help.  Do whatever you want.  Do what comes naturally.  Don’t overthink it.  But, he’s got an issue that will only get resolved by fucking his ass.  I gave him other options, but that’s the one he picked.  Your dick will tell you what to do.  Just, start gentle.  Can you do that for me?  And for him?”

 

Zeus looked a little frightened .  “I don’t know how.” He said.

 

“You will know once you start, trust me.  We all do.  Don’t worry about him.  He messed up his asshole, that’s why he was limping tonight.  It needs to be forced back into shape, but he can’t stop clenching in pain.  You’re going to loosen him up.  Start gentle, like I said.  You don’t have to fuck right away.  You’ll know when the time is right.  Once you get going, just fuck him any way you want.  This is a big favor to ask, I know.”

 

“Okay.  I can do it.”  He declared, confident once again.  He started down the corridor to the storage room.

 

“And Zeus?  Have fun, it’s supposed to be fun.”

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  • 2 weeks later...

Wanker’s Story:

 

I still couldn’t think of why Sarge singled me out.  We’d just gotten back from the field, tired and muddy.  It was dark out, but it gets dark early in November at this latitude.  At least that’s what was explained to me when I asked Bootlicker a couple weeks ago. There was something about the tilt of the earth, position around the sun, blah blah blah, something, something hemisphere seasons and rotating.  Bootlicker had all the answers.  I couldn’t remember jack shit.  But as Sarge said, grunts don’t think, they get shit done.  Bootlicker could have just said “because it gets dark “ and that would have been enough.  But fucking no, he had to pull out his brain and write a fucking book.  Like anyone needed a brain in the Army.  Follow me, that’s all we needed to hear.

 

Standing at attention waiting for who knows what left my mind time to wander.  Sarge didn’t say a thing.  He stood six feet away, behind me.  No one else was there, but it was obvious we were waiting for someone else.

 

“Don’t even breathe, Private Sendahl.  Don’t you fucking move.  Tell the truth, and maybe I can find a way to keep you in your unit.  You DO NOT want to go where they send troublemakers.” Sarge growled in a whisper behind me.

 

At that moment, the lieutenant walked in from the door across from us.

 

I executed my very best salute, hoping it passed muster with Sarge.

 

“At ease, Sergeant.”  Having not been released, I remained at attention.

 

The lieutenant sighed.  “Well I didn’t need this headache after the stunt you pulled with the Bravos, Sarge.  No gear, no equipment?  And you knew it was going to rain.  Anyway, it’s been dealt with.  This childish bullshit though?  This went beyond a simple prank.  I get it, we compete with Alpha, Charlie and Delta.  I look the other way, as do the other lieutenants.  For most of it.  We got lucky that Sergeant Horvath came to me.  Rather than take it up the chain.”  The lieutenant’s dark eyes stared at Sarge, then examined me.

 

“He’s the one?” He asked.

 

“Yes sir.” Sarge replied.

 

The lieutenant paused.  I could feel him sizing me up.  5’10”, 165 pounds, mostly muscle but I loved chips and donuts.  Definitely in shape, I had nothing to be ashamed about.  I could even see a couple abs if I flexed them.  Brown hair in a regulation buzz cut, nothing extreme like the high and tight some guys wore, just short enough to not have to do anything with it.   Demon liked his hair crazy, I just wanted to forget mine was there.  I had other things to worry about, like the pranks I loved to commit.

 

I slowly put it all together as lieutenant let the silence smother us all.  Oooooohh, the drama.  It was lost on me.  I was trying to crank up my moronic brain to figure out what I was in trouble for.  In my defense, it could have been, like, six things.  I was really busy.

 

But hearing Sergeant Horvath’s name, and a prank gone too far, it pointed to just one.  Sergeant Charlie told the lieutenant what I did to Charlie’s shampoo in their showers.  Still, I think they were overreacting.  We called all the sergeants by their platoon designation.  Charlie had four, we had four, the Alphas had three and the Deltas had four.  Sergeant Horvath was one of the four Sergeant Charlies.

 

“Well, Private.  Explain yourself.” The lieutenant ordered.

 

“Sir.  I replaced the shampoo with contact adhesive, sir.”

 

Did I see a grin starting?  Nope. It disappeared.  Back to Officer Angry-with-my-bullshit.  Lieutenant Disappointed-with-my-childish-actions.

 

“Do you consider your actions well thought out?” He asked.

 

That stumped me.  Was it a trap?  I mean, of course I thought it out, I didn’t guess what to put in there, how to sneak into their showers, how mad they were going to be.  I thought about it a lot.  In fact, it gave me something to laugh about while I shivered in the cold rainy mud all last week.  I thought about it probably a hundred times.  That pretty much defined ‘well thought out’ in my head.

 

“Uh, yes sir?  I planned it all out, executed my mission, and I guess since I’m here , the results were successful.  I guess my answer is yes.”

 

“NO!  THE ANSWER IS NO!”  The lieutenant yelled.  I flinched.  “He turned to Sarge, who I couldn’t see.  “Is he truly that brilliant AND stupid?

 

“Sir, I believe he’s just stupid.” Sarge the rat bastard replied.  I was honest.  He told me to be honest.  So, honest equals stupid.  Lesson learned, oh great Army command!  You’d think by now I would have learned you should NEVER give your honest assessment to a superior, unless you were in battle.  “Don’t you love digging that latrine, Private?”  An honest answer gets you a week of latrine duty.  So you yell “I LOVE digging latrines for the Army, Sarge!”

 

The lieutenant shifted back to me.  “I’m going to let the Sergeant explain every boneheaded mistake you made.  Not that it’s likely to make it into that dense bowling ball you carry around on your shoulders.  And he gets to decide what to do with you.  Dismissed.”

 

I followed Sarge in silence.  My Sarge, Sergeant Walters, wasn’t that much taller than me, but he was built like a brick shithouse.  He probably weighed 185 or 190.   He looked like he could break me into pieces.  Wide, bulky shoulders tapered down to a 30 inch waist, then ballooned out to a meaty solid ass before thickening into beast like thighs and calves.  His BDUs bloused perfectly at the top of his size 11 boots.  Of course Sarge did everything we did in PT, but he also hit the gym twice a day.  I’d seen him there on the few occasions I went myself .  I couldn’t imagine how much he had to eat to maintain that level of physicality, but it had to be at least twice as much as me, but without the donuts and other garbage.  He marched in that precise, measured stride that all soldiers eventually adopted, each step the same length, the same timing, only it wasn’t a stiff  parade march, just a casual stroll.  He probably had a favorite marching cadence that played constantly in his head.  The man seemed to eat, breathe and sleep Army.  I wondered which one.

 

Whatever disciplinary consequences he was going to dole out, it wasn’t going to be in the Sergeant’s block in the barracks.  So… unofficial punishment?  See, I wasn’t as stupid as he thought.  I congratulated myself with a self satisfied look on my face.

 

As if he could see my face from 6 paces ahead of me, he growled “wipe that FUCKING grin off that ugly mug, Private!”  He led me to another building on the post, one I hadn’t been permitted to enter before now.

 

We got to a small room just large enough for a desk and filing cabinet.  He closed the door behind him.

 

I stood there off to the side and he came around to lean his ass against the military issue desk, your basic gun metal gray rectangular block of metal.

 

“You’re not going to like this Private.  But we have to do it.   It’s going to keep you with your unit.  Do you want to stay with your unit?”

 

I gulped.  I guess it just hit me that I was in bigger trouble than I figured.  “Yes Sergeant, I want to stay.”

 

“Then you’re going to have to take this like a man.  You pissed off both the right guy, and the wrong one.  See, Horvath was willing to keep this from going up the chain, which means you have an out.  But you have to choose to take it.  In your career with the Army, you’ll have many choices like this… well, not exactly like this, but we don’t always want to send things up the chain.  It causes a mess.  It brings investigations.  It means paperwork and hearings and meetings with officers.  It means black marks on your record.  “.  Sarge sighed.  His voice became less intense, almost caring.  “We could have looked the other way for all of this.  I have to admit, contact adhesive… those Charlies had to shave their heads.  I admire how diabolical that was.”  He chuckled, crossing his arms, which made his pecs bulge into massive hills.  His smile dropped.  “Mistake one:  you didn’t recon to detect surveillance.  There are cameras inside and outside every barracks.  Mistake two: you didn’t camouflage your appearance, and made yourself easily identifiable.  Mistake three: you used military resources without authorization - the contact adhesive you took from maintenance, again without avoiding surveillance or employing camouflage.  Those three things, we could have overlooked or at least turned into a minor infraction.  But mistake four: the damage to the shampoo dispensers resulting in destruction of Army property… that’s taken very seriously.   Do you understand, Private?”

 

“I do, Sergeant.” I said in a weak voice.  “What’s going to happen?” I was starting to get scared.  It was just a prank, but Sarge was right.  In my rush to prank the Charlies, I forgot my training.  I KNEW all that shit.  Although my unit wasn’t recon, we were still taught not to move without proper intelligence, revise the plan and mission accordingly, and most of all cause ONLY the damage necessary to accomplish the mission.  We weren’t artillery, just letting the shells fly, blowing shit up.

 

“Pain.  Humiliation.  And hopefully a lesson learned.” Sarge explained.  He sighed again.  “Drop your drawers Private, and lean over the desk, chest flat, legs spread.”

 

I froze for a second, then went on automatic.  I took off my trousers and boxers, feeling scrawny next to Sarge’s fit muscles.

 

“I have to ask, Sendahl.  Have you ever had anything up your ass?”

 

“No Sarge, I’m not gay.” I said, slightly offended.

 

“I’m not asking if you’re gay.  You know I’m not allowed to ask that.  Plenty of straight guys like getting their asses played with, sticking things up there, a girlfriend’s finger during a blowjob, their own finger when jacking off, vibrators, lots of stuff.  No shame in that.  No shame in being gay, either.  I know a few gay soldiers.  Good men, tough, dedicated.  Know some lesbian soldiers too, and I can tell you now the Army, Marines and Navy have seen both gay and lesbian soldiers serve with honor, valor, bravery and distinction throughout our history.  But I’m not asking if you’re gay.  I’m saying what’s coming next would be easier if you were.   Now, you have to choose.  Horvath is going to come in here and fuck you in the ass.  That’s the punishment he chose to make you serve.  It will hurt like hell, but I can do something to make it not as painful.  I can’t do anything about Horvath’s huge dick, but I can break you in before he gets here.  He won’t be gentle, but I will.  And hopefully you’ll be able to walk out of here on your own legs.  But it’s up to you.  Either you take your punishment from Horvath, or we send this up the chain.  What will it be?”

 

I’d heard nightmares about guys getting raped, how their assholes got torn up, their insides ruptured.  I doubted Sarge and Horvath would do that to me deliberately, a soldier with an obviously raped ass would start an investigation that would make shampoo dispensers a joke.  But it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen by accident.  I had a choice, but it didn’t feel like a choice at all.  Still, my training told me the more you accepted something disagreeable, the easier it was to complete the task.  Running five miles was easier if you didn’t focus on the pain, but reminded yourself what you were getting out of it, becoming stronger.

 

I looked Sarge in the eye.  “I’m sorry I fucked up, Sarge.  Thanks for finding a way out of this for me.  I’ll take my punishment.”

 

Sarge looked a little sad at first, which I appreciated.  I felt better for the sympathy.  Then he said “what’s pain, solder?”

 

“Pain is what we eat for breakfast Sarge!” I barked back automatically.

 

“Alright.  I will let you in on a secret.  This probably won’t be your only time taking it up the ass in the Army.  So relax, it doesn’t mean anything, or change who you are.  It doesn’t mean you’re gay, or going to turn gay.  I’m not gay, but I’ve taken it up the ass more than a few times for my brothers.  “

 

“Really?  You?”  In my surprise I forgot his address.

 

He just raised one eyebrow, shrugged, then grunted.  “On your knees, Sendahl.” He said, unbuckling his belt.  “ I’m not going to be able to do this without some help.  And you absolutely don’t want Horvath to be the first one in there.”

 

I knelt in front of Sarge, watching him unzip and peel down his combat uniform pants and underwear.  The tails of his shirt hung over his crotch, and he pulled it up, exposing his soft dick and hanging balls.   His junk was shaved completely smooth, which wasn’t too much of a surprise.  More and more guys were trimming or shaving completely.  His set looked hefty, thick, and manly, even soft he hung about four or five inches.  He began unbuttoning his shirt, then removed it and laid it out on the desk behind him.  “Better get started.  Take my dick in your mouth, get me hard.” He commanded.

 

I scooted closer.  I could smell the week of sweat and musk coming off his crotch.  His meaty thighs pressed together and pushed his cock forward, his large nutsack supporting it.  I could see his balls moving inside his sack.  The smell wasn’t a turnoff, just reminded me of how all the guys smelled after a workout or hard duty, even myself.  I closed my eyes and took his flaccid cock in my mouth.  The first cock I had ever sucked.  I’m not going to lie, I always admired Sarge, kind of worshipped him, his dedication, how he could be an asshole but always with the goal of making us better soldiers.  He was tough, but fair.  He looked out for our unit, saw to it that we were pushed past our limits but never too far.  Something about thinking of him that way clicked my brain over from having to do something distasteful to trying to do my best.  If that meant sucking his dick, I wanted to do it right.  I pulled it all the way into my mouth and sucked.

 

“There you go, that’s right.  Press your nose up against my crotch.” He told me.  “Don’t suck hard, that’s not the trick.  Just a little suction.   That’s it, you’re doing great, Sendahl.  Now swirl your tongue around.”

 

I could feel his shaft getting fuller, harder, more solid in my mouth.  I thought I tasted a tangy flavor, just a little.  I wondered what that was.

 

“Good, now slowly back it out, but not all the way.  Then go back down.  Slow.  Gentle.  Use your tongue.  That’s it.  Reach up and play with my balls.”

 

I was grateful for his instructions.  I had no idea how to suck dick.  I promised myself to remember what he was saying so I could use it with the girls I hooked up with.  I almost laughed at the thought that giving a blowjob was going to get me better blowjobs for myself later.

 

“Don’t swallow all your saliva, your spit makes it feel better.   A sloppy blowjob is the best kind.  Keep moving.”

 

I placed my other hand on his upper thigh, unconsciously rubbing up to his stomach to feel his hard abs, then coming back down to his pubic area to feel the smooth skin at the base of his cock.  I suddenly wanted my eyes open.  This wasn’t as bad as I thought.  His scent was making me a little dizzy, the humid heat of his powerful thighs hitting me in the face.  His cock continued to grow every time I tried to get down to the base, which was just not possible anymore as he was too big and was starting to hit my throat, making me gag and choke.

 

‘Take it out and give it a couple strokes with your hand.  There ya go.”

 

I finally saw what I was dealing with.  My first up close hard dick.  A small string of spit bridged out from the thick head of his cock to my lips.  He was about 7 to 8 inches long, so far, almost fully hard.  I watched it as I stroked him, my other hand still fondling his big nuts.  They reminded me of Sleeper’s nuts, hanging a good five inches down, loose and full.  I wished my balls were like his.  There was just something masculine about big nuts.

 

“Keep stroking, and lick my nuts.  Take them in your mouth, but just one at a time.  You won’t be able to get both in at the same time.”

 

I did as he ordered, letting my tongue run over his sack.  The musky smell was stronger, the taste of old sweat kind of pleasant.  I cleaned his entire scrotum with my tongue first, suddenly wanting to lap up that manly flavor I now associated with strength, power, authority, protection… and brotherhood.  It was amazing.  I had always thought dick was gross.  That balls were funny, but nasty.  But Sarge’s balls were symbols of male potency.  Trophies of masculine power.  Orbs of confidence and strength.

 

That was the moment I knew it wasn’t going to be the only dick I ever sucked.  That I wanted to smell that smell again, taste that male specific flavor.  Feel that heat only a man’s crotch put out.  Because of his nuts.

 

I sucked his right nut inside my lips, past my teeth and found I wanted to swallow it whole.  But they weren’t the size of walnuts, or small plums like most guys.  Like Sleeper’s nuts, Sarge’s testicles were each the size of a healthy lime.   I wanted them in my throat, I wanted to choke on them, each one.  He was right, I’d never get them both in my mouth at the same time.  But I wasn’t a quitter.  And I wanted that, NEEDED that, needed to feel their firm softness filling my entire mouth.

 

Positioned like I was, I looked up at Sarge past my hand still stroking his now hard, spit soaked dick, who was looking down at me with a pleased grin.

 

“You like my nuts, Sendahl?”  He asked with genuine curiosity.

 

I let his right nut go from my suction, tightening my lips around it and tugging on it with my mouth as it passed through.  “Fuck.  They’re fantastic.  And the way they smell and taste.  I never thought a guy’s nuts would be like this.”

 

And then I opened as wide as I could and stuffed both of them into my mouth, knowing I had to do it, I had to get all of them inside me.  God, they were warm.  I couldn’t even close my mouth, just had to jam my tongue in and around them without letting my teeth close.

 

I heard Sarge groan.  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkk, soldier.  Close your mouth a little, put some pressure on those beauties.”

 

I did as ordered.  I had to try to swallow, my mouth was filling with so much saliva I was going to drown myself on his incredible balls.  I tried to bring my lips together around his upper sack, still keeping my teeth open.  It wasn’t easy.  I almost could, but didn’t want to hurt his most sensitive tools of manhood.

 

“More.”  He gasped.  I could tell he was loving what it was doing.

 

I decided to try to swallow.  I let my throat open to drain the copious saliva, and one of his nuts went down.  I almost choked, but I reflexively clamped my mouth down on his second nut, pressing my lips to the loose velvety skin of his upper nutsack.  I gulped, kept gulping to get his nut to pass through my throat.  I fucking lost my mind.  My gripping throat was yanking his nuts, like a seal yakking down fish.

 

“Fuck YES!  Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck!” Sarge panted.  He stopped my hand stroking his dick.  “Easy.  Easy on my dick.  Don’t make me shoot.   How the fuck are you doing that?”  He removed my hand, then opened his thighs to straddle my head, letting his hard dick rest on my forehead.  “Stay there as long as you can breathe, kid.  Fuck, no one has ever done that. “

 

My chin was now nestled up against his taint.  I was still gulping, pulling his nut in my throat that wouldn’t descend further.  I was amazed I wasn’t choking or gagging.  It was just this firm globe stretching my throat just past my tonsils, but in spite of its size it felt good back there.  My tongue and palate caressed and sucked the heady, musky flavor of his other nut, which felt like it fit perfectly in my mouth now.  As I gulped, my chin rubbed across Sarge’s taint, and I could feel him pressing down into me, grinding the tender area into my chin.  I kept it up for ten more seconds, but I had to breathe.  Expelling those gorgeous orbs took a little care, so my teeth didn’t scrape them or tear skin.  As they came free, his cock spasmed on my forehead, then trailed down between my eyes and across my cheek, leaving a thick trail of precum on its way.

 

“Shit, that was amazing.” Sarge said, running his big paw across my buzz cut.  “Get up on the desk, lay back on your back.”  He pointed me to where he’d laid out his uniform and undershirt.  I was glad I didn’t have to lay on the cold bare metal of the desk.

 

“Lift your legs.  We have to get you loosened up.  Horvath will be here at 21:30.  That gives me 15 minutes to get you ready to take the pounding he’s going to give you.”

 

I did as he instructed, finding that laying on the warmth of his uniform calmed my nerves.  I smelled him coming off the fabric.  His scent familiar to me now, a smell I would never forget.  In later years, I’d occasionally get a whiff of that scent from some other man around me, and my mind would instantly flash back to this moment.  I’d look to see if he was near, my heart speeding up involuntarily, but knew that was impossible.  He’d changed something in me.  Whatever nightmare was about to happen, it was okay because my Sarge was there.

 

I held my knees up to my chest, exposing my virgin hole.  I decided that if I was going to get my cherry popped, Sarge was the only man I wanted to do it.  I trusted him completely.  He was doing this to protect me, save me from further pain and humiliation.  I didn’t even care if he got something out of it.  In fact I hoped he enjoyed it.  Sick, I know.  But you have to be in that situation, with a man like Sarge, to understand.

 

I looked at him moving around to come up to my open asscheeks.  I didn’t feel ashamed having another dude looking at my asshole.  Whatever he needed to do, I fully accepted it.  I was even a little curious how he would feel.  I knew the heat of him, that warmth radiating off his huge body.  It was too cold for us to be sweating, so his skin wasn’t shining, just completely smooth from his neck to his knees.  I don’t know if he shaved his body too, but it made sense that he would.  A muscle bulged on every part of him, big, solid pecs, rounded heavy shoulders, biceps that bunched up with every arm movement.  You could tell his hair was blonde, its short clip reflecting the overhead lights.  I breathed deeply and laid my head back on his uniform.

 

I felt some warm drops of liquid going down my ass and running across my hole.  I twitched.

 

“Just a little lubricant, kid.  Relax.  Breathe.  I got you. “

 

I did just that.  But needed something more.  I was afraid to ask, but more afraid not to.  “Sarge.  I need your smell.  I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a pussy.  But it relaxes me.”  Knowing almost everything was under my back meant his underwear was the only article left.  “Can… can I have…”

 

“It’s okay, kid.  This is going to be difficult.  Just ask.  No shame, remember.”

 

I could have cried at the tenderness in his voice.  “Your underwear.  I need to smell you.”  I felt his fingers leave the area around my hole.

 

“Here you go.  You want them on your face?  Might be better that way so you can’t see anyway.”  He held his boxer briefs up.  They were black, Hanes.

 

Good, I thought.  The more they hugged his beautiful nuts the better.  I wanted them in my mouth again, but his shorts would work just fine for smell, especially if he’d worn them for a long time.  I nodded.

 

“You sure?  I’ve worn them all week, didn’t have a chance to change into new ones before this.”  Again, concern for me filled his voice.

 

“I’m sure.  The stronger the better.  You smell good.”

 

Sarge chuckled.  “It’s your funeral, kid.  I hope they don’t make you pass out.”  He bunched the up and pressed them to my face, holding them down onto my mouth and nose.  “Breathe deep, I’m getting a finger in.”

 

I sucked in the overwhelming odor of unwashed balls, his natural and specific mix of testosterone, sweat, hormones, and what I recognized as the slight tinge of dried piss and cum.  His cum.  From his balls.  His incredible nuts.  I wanted to suck the juices out of those Hanes boxer briefs.  I wished I could.  I felt my dick stir, just a little.

 

“You okay, kid?  Still with me?  You’re doing great.”

 

I hadn’t even realized he’d inserted two fingers in my tight nineteen year old ass.  I initially went to clamp down, but instantly realized from the sharp pain that doing that was a mistake.  I nodded and grunted an affirmative.

 

“Good job soldier.  We’ll get you there.”  His large fingers moved around, gently massaging me from the inside while pressing and rubbing the outside of my sphincter with his other fingers.   It didn’t feel all that terrible.    My dick filled out another inch.  “Another breath.  Let my shorts take your mind off of what I’m doing.”  He didn’t judge, didn’t say it cruelly.  He actually sounded like he understood why I liked it.

 

I breathed, and decided to get the fabric in my mouth.  I pulled it in with my lips and teeth and ran my tongue over the material, and tasted a saltiness that made my mouth water.  The flavor was intoxicating, knowing it was made by Sarge’s own body.  I lost myself in savoring it, knowing I was moaning softly.

 

“Well done, kid.  I’m in.  The hard part is over.”

 

I reached up to move his underwear away from my eyes, refusing to take them away from my nose and mouth.  Sarge was now pressed up against my ass, I couldn’t see his dick at all.  God, he was burning hot against my ass.  How could he put out so much heat?  It felt good.  His huge body stood above me, a gentle smile playing across his face.

 

“I guess you like my shorts too?  Glad they could help.  It was like you didn’t even know what I was doing, you were so relaxed I slid right in, right to the balls.”

 

“You’re in me?  All the way in me?” I asked, muffled by his underwear on my mouth.

 

“Oh yeah, and you feel pretty good in there.  Now, I’m going to start slow, and it will be uncomfortable, but just keep doing what you’re doing.  Then I’ll speed up. “

 

“Okay , Sarge.  Do it.  Fuck me.  Open me up.”  I knew the point was so that Sergeant Charlie didn’t injure me, and that maybe I wouldn’t be in any pain.  I was glad I missed the exact moment Sarge popped my cherry.  I didn’t want to know that.  But I would remember his fuck.  The only fuck I’ve ever had that made me think about being gay.

 

His hard shaft pulled out slightly, then moved back in, so slow, so gentle, just easing in and out.  I sucked more on his boxer briefs, moving them around so I could find the exact spot where the head of his dick sat pressed against his balls.  I wanted the piece that was the most fully saturated with his musk.  I inhaled it, drank it up while my head spun.  I found it erotic and satisfying while driving a hunger I couldn’t describe.  More, I wanted more.

 

“There you go, kid.  You feel amazing.  So relaxed .  You are taking all of me, so easily.  Your ass feels amazing grabbing onto my dick.  That’s it, it’s okay to enjoy it.  No shame.  Take your Sarge’s cock.”

 

I let out a long, deep moan.  It did feel good, stroking so deep inside of me, his thickness stretching my hole with every plunge.  I relaxed my legs, letting my knees drop to either side of my chest.  I wanted him deeper, wanted my ass open as much as I could manage to get him in.  Just that small adjustment created a new feeling, I could sense every inch of his full manhood sliding in and out of me.  It sent me to another place.  I could feel those low hanging limes hitting my ass as he shoved into me, every stroke going all 8 inches from his head to the base, which felt even thicker than the rest of his shaft.  All the way out.  All the way back in, bottoming out every time with a little more force.

 

Sarge watched me moan, saw my eyes travel across his sturdy muscles.  “Touch me if you want.  Do you want to feel my body while I fuck your tight grunt hole? “

 

I realized I did.  I wanted to feel how he flexed with every thrust.  I wanted to feel the animal hunt, attack, and feed.  I reached up and grabbed ahold of his left pec, feeling its solidity, its sheer size that dwarfed my average hand.  I grabbed and massaged, noticing how it tightened up on his downstroke, then relaxed on his withdrawal.  His rhythm didn’t vary, still slow and even as he plunged his hard cock into my hole again and again.  I suddenly wanted to feel his ass while he thrusted, knowing that was where his power originated for every stroke inside me.  I moved both hands down his stomach, tracing every single abdominal muscle as they tightened and released.  No fat, just skin over muscle.  I suddenly thought of Zeus, our God, and wondered if he looked like this.  He probably looked better, if that were possible.

 

I reached Sarge’s hips, caressing them, feeling the bones of his pelvis, only a little harder and more solid than his muscles.  My hands traveled around to his big, firm ass, so solid just like the rest of him.  His glutes squeezed and relaxed, matching his pistoling cock.  I unconsciously flexed my ass as he did, and Sarge gasped.

 

“Yeah, I could feel that.” He said.  “If you want to drive your buddy crazy, just do that on his dick.  It feels amazing.  Try it again.”

 

I did.  I tried to gauge when it affected Sarge the most.  I waited until his head pulled almost all the way out, then flexed on it so his dick had to force its way back in.  It didn’t even hurt, but the grunt from Sarge told me that was a good feeling.  I did that a few times, using my hands on his ass to pull him into me harder every time.  By now I had lost any inhibitions, I grunted and moaned whenever his thick cock hit me just right.

 

“There it is.  It feels good if you allow yourself to enjoy it.” Sarge said.  “Best you don’t tighten down with Horvath, not this time.  Just open up as much as you can, let him do his thing.  God knows that’s what I do when he wants it.  You’ll feel like a train is running up your shit tunnel, but he won’t take long.  Horvath likes a quick violent bang.  He’ll take you from behind, he thinks looking at who he fucks is too intimate.  Which brings me to how I like to end things.”

 

Sarge bent over, removing his now soaked underwear from my mouth.  He smiled.  “Looks like I’ll have to refill these for you.  I think you sucked them clean. “

 

I gazed up into his ice blue eyes.  I never noticed before how kind and soulful they were.  His blonde eyebrows could hardly be seen, so light and thin as they were.  His tanned face was clean shaven, his nose straight and not too large.  It felt so strange studying the face of a guy who was shoving his dick in and out of my ass.  My ass that I never thought would take a cock.  My ass that I never thought would ENJOY taking a cock.  I figured at that moment, it all depended on who was doing the fucking.  I suddenly felt very lucky, very happy to expose my vulnerability.  To this man, who was so kind, gentle, understanding and accepting.

 

He must have seen the look on my face, the thankfulness in my eyes.  “Aww, kid.  I knew you had it in you.  That feeling you’re having?  That’s your love for your fellow brother.  That’s why we do what we do out there.  That’s why we sacrifice ourselves, why we’d step in front of any grenade, take any bullet for them.  That’s what all of this means.  That there’s nothing we wouldn’t do if they asked, if they were in need.  I love you, brother.”

 

“I love you brother.” I repeated.  And then Sarge kissed me.  A deep, searching kiss full of passion and need, love and understanding.  Our tongues fought as he increased the pace of his strokes.  But he always gave an extra hard shove when he bottomed out.  I was kissing him furiously by now, wanting every part of him inside me.  I was moaning like a whore.  My entire body was on fire, willing him to fuck into me harder, deeper, more violently.  And he didn’t disappoint.  I could feel his passion increase, his thrusts become desperate.  His cock felt like it was growing inside my ass, which pushed me into a frenzy.

 

“Fuck me Sarge.  Fuck me deep.  I want you to fuck me like you own me.  Please! “ I begged.  I was still grabbing onto his rock hard ass, violently pulling him.  I wrapped my legs around his waist to get even more leverage.

 

“Yeah brother, I got you.  I’m going to give you a fucking you’re never going to forget.  I’m going to destroy your hole with my big dick.  You want that?  You want me to shoot my load inside you?  You want my seed deep?” He said the words into my open mouth, punctuating them with his wide soft tongue.  He bit my lip, nibbled on my tongue, slobbered all over my mouth, his saliva driving me insane as I tasted that part of him.

 

“Fuck yes, Sarge!  Use my ass like a pussy, fuck your cum inside me.  Fuck it as deep as you can get it.  I want it all.”  I didn’t care what was coming out of my mouth.

 

Sarge growled deep, “Yeah, your tight virgin grunt hole is gonna get filled up, buddy.  I’m gonna take your cherry like a man.  My little swimmers are going to flood your cunt.  Your tight grunt hole is milking my fucking cock.   Do that thing.  Grab onto that dick you love and stroke it with your sweet little hole.”

 

I didn’t hesitate.  I started flexing my ass, and oh my God it felt so good.  My arms were around his neck, my ankles and heels pressing on his ass with every thrust.  He was plowing me like an animal, a huge sweating, mindless beast.  His sweat, the scent it created on his skin pushed me over the edge.

 

“Oh fuck, oh shit oh fuckfuckfuck” my dick started shooting cum up between us, his abs crushing my cock and balls.  My nuts were practically inside my abdomen they were drawn up so tight.  I spasmed every time his pole bottomed out, I lost count how many times I squirted.

 

Halfway through my own incredible orgasm, Sarge grunted loud and deep.  “Here it comes, kid.  Take my load.”  Then he speared his engorged cock deeper than he’d been before, let out a primal groan, threw his head back and his dick began throbbing and pulsing as he shot his heavy thick cum deep inside my guts.  He pulled back once, and did the whole thing again, shoving his dick as deep as he could go.  Once more , he repeated the shove, the groan, the throbbing.  By the third one I was done cumming myself, so I could feel the spurts of his dick.  He was pouring his seed inside me.  That seed he made in his beautiful nuts, just this fuck, just for me.

 

When he was finished, he collapsed on top of me, finding my mouth with his.  The kiss he gave me was tender, generous, soft and gentle.

 

“Mmmmmm, nothing like that feeling.  Brother to brother.  Giving each other a piece of ourselves.  Taking away the pain.” Sarge mumbled.  “Fuck!  I love it every time!”  He looked at me and smiled.  “You’re a hot fuck, grunt.  How was that?  You okay?”

 

I stared up at Sarge.  I couldn’t believe it could feel that good.  “That was amazing!  I came without touching myself.  I didn’t know you could cum with a huge dick fucking your ass, by HAVING a huge dick fucking you.  Holy fuck Sarge!”

 

Sarge chuckled.  “The smaller ones are fun too, if they’re used right.  But don’t worry, you’re not going to get all dick hungry.  At least I don’t think so.  You don’t seem the type.”

 

“I don’t know, Sarge.  I don’t WANT to get fucked again, but I kinda want to get fucked again.”

 

I watched Sarge stand up, his cock still buried inside me, not softening at all.  He looked down at my stomach and chest, then at his stomach, both smeared with my unintentional load.  He swiped a big puddle with his fingers and brought them to his mouth, sucking my sperm off, licking them clean.

 

“Not bad, kid.” He took another swipe, gathering more, and sucked it off his fingers too.  “You surprised?  Don’t be.  Your brother’s seed is precious.  Some guys don’t care for it, but I feel you honor your brother by taking his seed.  Besides, yours tastes pretty good.”  With that he leaned forward and licked my stomach clean.  Slurping along, he came to my now soft dick, moving it into his mouth to clean it off.  “Thanks kid.” He said after he finished.  “I’m glad you enjoyed this.  I wanted your first time to be good, to show you what it COULD be.  You probably won’t enjoy Horvath quite as much, but who knows?  It won’t feel bad or hurt if you allow yourself to enjoy it.  That’s really the key.”

 

As if Sergeant Charlie had a hidden signal, he walked in the door.  He was so fast, I didn’t have a chance to jump or cover myself.  Besides, Sarge didn’t move, letting his hands stroke my torso lazily.  I was so relaxed I found I didn’t care.  I just knew I didn’t want Sarge to take his hard dick out of my ass.  But you don’t get what you want in the Army.

 

“He broken in Walters?”  Sergeant Charlie asked.  I expected him to be angry, or at least gruff and sour.  But instead he seemed like he was in a good mood.  What the fuck?  I couldn’t figure these Segeants out.

 

“Yep Horvath.  I gave him the good.  Now you gotta give him the bad.”  Sarge said.

 

“You know I hate being the bad guy, Walters.” Sergeant Charlie complained.  “Just once I’d like to be the good guy.”

 

Sarge chuckled.  “You know you can’t be the one to take a virgin grunt hole, Paul.  You’re way too big.  It never works.  You need an assist?  The kid’s got a great mouth, but he’s too green to manage your horse dick.”

 

 

Horvath nodded and unbuckled his belt.  “Yeah.  Just get me hard.”

 

 

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