The Marine and the Troll Under The Bridge

[DevilDawg]

The Marine and the Troll Under The Bridge 7-31-2025

I have been trying to find the courage to post this one for a long time, It is one of the reasons I was just a Breeding Zone Lurker/Reader and not a full user. For those who have liked my Sticky Situation in another forum, this is darker. Many may not like it, Most Vets will recognize the shadows that haunt us. Rest assured that this is a work of fiction with some landmarks and truisms tossed in. However, my hesitation in posting is because this could have very well happened to me. It is not a happy fantasy cum true. Fair Warning, if you suffer from Military PTSD I recommend you skip it for the next pozzing story.

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Mike here, 21Years old, 5’11” when I stretch, 28” waist,160 Lbs. and a 7 inch cut dick and I am a Gay Marine. When I say gay, I mean in the spectrum of things, I am pretty damn gay. Or as gay as a virgin can be. In Highschool, I had eventually realized I was gay like my Uncle who at that time was also pretty damn gay. I mean I tried doing the traditional route, I dated girls in Highschool but never seemed to get as lucky as my peers, mostly it was a drain on my poor wallet. It had occurred to me that my friends might be fudging their scorecards some, but I had nothing to measure against. Marine Corps Bootcamp was not a discovery risk. Plenty of gay Recruits have earned their EGA. Boot Camp – East Coast/West Coast is pretty regimented down to 5 minute timeslices. If a Recruit has time to pop a Boner, the Senior Drill Instructor is letting his Junior DIs slack off. My uncle tells me that back in the day, female Beautiful Alluring Marines unofficially known as BAMs were only trained at PI, but then everything changed. Females were still taught makeup appropriate for the uniform, but they were expected to Shoot (Every Marine A Rifleman) regardless of sex, and both the Boot Camps in Hollywood and PI were machines that instructed Recruits in the Core Fundamentals of the Corps: Honor, Bravery, GUNG HO/Pulling Together, Combat Basics all while instilling the foundation of never leaving a Comrade Behind. Gung Ho was lifted from the Chinese, Semper Fidelis was the bedrock Prejudice of color were mostly expelled in WWII around the timeframe after Iwo. One color Mattered and it was Green (or) the flip side of that was Khaki. Old Corps Marines might dimly recall the mantra of Green Side Out, Brown side out, run in circles scream and shout. The ITV network at bootcamp was always streaming Sands of IWO Jima so that by the time a recruit graduates and goes to additional schooling or the Fleet, they have seen it around 40 times.

Aviation fields were integrated with Naval Training at NAS Pensacola if you had spunk, or were otherwise worthy, and failed a technical course, you might be dropped to a less technically demanding track like Avionics would drop back to Aviation Electrical, Aircraft Engine Mechanic might drop to Airframes and Structures so as to not waste the core aviation training you already had. Mechanics who were situationally aware at the line level units were evaluated for Crew Chief or Door Gunner Duty.

It was as a Crew Chief, my soul died. I had seen combat, I had even benefited from counselling during and after combat. I had lost Battle Buddies and Warrior Brothers, it was  a heavy burden. Some peers had committed suicide, prevention screening was heightened. Then the event that changed my life for the worse. During a training mission a catastrophic failure which prevented any real effort to Auto-Rotate dumped 4 of us and a UH-1N into Davy Jones’ Locker. Most Marines get Water Survival Qualified at least once. Aviation crew personnel in the Marines and the Navy are required to go through the Dunker Trainer. If successfully completed, you have a 9 in 10 chance of exiting a water crash if you retain consciousness during the initial ditch. I was knocked so hard I cracked my helmet but I was conscious enough to take a deep breath and try to move towards the front pilot in command a copilot seats as the sea rushed in but the flooding and the increasing darkness fuzzed my awareness. Then I was being pulled out backwards by my flight vest and broached the surface sputtering with the other surviving crew member Joe Richwalski who said “at least I don’t have to do Mouth to Mouth” as he inflated my flotation bladder in the vest took another deep breath and dove down, his vest remaining uninflated. I dipped my aching head and tried to peer though the murk. I was panicked but mechanically preparing to deflate my vest and dive when Joe again broached the surface. We can’t reach them and turned his face away but dove again in case he was wrong. The Rescue was pretty quick during combat or training – if a tracked flight goes off grid, the response is ASAP. My debrief and report got Joe cited with a Meritorious Service Medal and my head and orthopedic injuries got me transferred from flight status to medical holding.

Segregation of serious Combat Wounded Marines and those who suffer an injury as a line of duty incident is routine. If a Marine just back from deployment wraps their Motorcycle around a telephone pole while drunk, that is not usually a Line Of Duty injury. The fact that it was a mech failure of equipment with loss of life during operations training meant I was re slotted into a billet until I could be medically stabilized, evaluated and potentially medically discharged. My new Duty Station assignment was published, I was attached to Marine Barracks Annex, Washington DC. Because I had done band and music in High School, and Sound/Theater during the same period, by oddball chance I was slotted into a ‘Roadie’ billet supporting the Marine Orchestra. The in-brief/Welcome Aboard was typical but some of the specifics were non-standard. The extra decorum expected of Marines in the Nations Capitol, and the Rocks and Shoals that would get us into instant trouble. A whole list of historical infractions such as drunk Marines trying (and sometimes succeeding in the old days) of climbing the Whitehouse Fence; right down to Drunk and Disorderly; or the catchall ‘Conduct Unbecoming A Marine”. I had been low, now I was very low.

Then I learned my Uncle had died. While I had affection for my parents, somehow, I loved my Uncle more. The whispers not from my parents but from the cousins was that it involved complications from AIDS or HIV. Knowing my attraction towards men, and knowing the risks, the last time I spoke to my Uncle I had asked him to take my virginity. His response after a pause, Oh Mike, I love you like you were my own son. I could not possibly, and I heard something unintelligible, and he hung up. When I came back from the funeral, I still had some leave and I went on a bender. The Gayborhood on East Capitol Street that my Uncle had once described was gone. Remington’s, Mr. Henry’s, all gone. However, there were still plenty of bars and about 01:30 in the morning, I realized as they prepped for last call that I was too broke for a hotel, and too drunk to successfully bluff my way back through the security gate.

   This may be redundant for Vets who know it already, but perhaps for a few it will bring into focus just how much of a burden Marines can carry. The Marine Corps was born in a Bar so a drunk marine is nothing new. I had tied one on trying to anesthetize my mind from the pain of compounded loss. To add to my woes, it started raining, then pouring rain. I huddled under one of the overpasses in despair. I was as wary as I could be but even if I got rolled/robbed they would not get much. The ever-present homeless population noticed the high and tight haircut and most kept to their selected spots but one said to scoot up the underpass slope – the chilly wind is not so bad there. He said his name was Leo and I told him my name was Mike. Leo said Marine Right? I replied yes. Leo said thank you for your service. I hung my head. What’s wrong? I assure you are not the first Marine to pause under this shelter and you won’t be the last.

In my drunken state, I started recounting my story providing what a sober mike would realize was too much information. I fell asleep and became wakeful with some wonderful feelings. The rain was still pounding, my dick was out. Had Leo been blowing me? My erection had never been this hard even when jacking off and watching porn. I had no other experience to compare it to. I started buttoning up and Leo said no worries, just helping out a shipmate. I looked a silent question in his direction. ’82 he said after a bit, just before the Marine Barracks was attacked. Friends of mine went ashore from the LHAs for a card game. He leaned back over and unbuttoned my fly while keeping a wary eye on my reactions. I was silent except for a gasp as he took me into his mouth. My erection reappeared and within a short few seconds I blew a huge load down his throat and he swallowed and swallowed, suckling for a while. He must have kept a little because he pulled out a skoal can and hawked a gob into it setting it aside. He said roll over and I hesitantly complied. He pulled my jeans and shorts down and started licking my hole. I was paralyzed with fear and lust Fight or Flight did not even occur to me. My gasps were followed by groans as his tongue entered my anus. With the chill air, I felt warm and Rosy. My anus was relaxed from beer and Leo’s tongue. He stopped and moved up inserting a finger, then two, then three. He spat on my hole and I heard the skol can lid drop as he added my cum to my ass. I shuddered. He entered and not with a finger this time. The initial entry was sharp, but I was calm, and still drunk but aware. As my hole relaxed he went deeper, he was rubbing my love nut and every time my ass would clench he would sigh. Eventually he picked up the pace and his dick expanded further blowing a definite series of cum spirts up my ass. As he deflated and withdrew, he continued his soothing talk. Mike, I’m sure your Uncle would have eventually come around. Here is the gift he did not have the opportunity to give you. I’m sure he would have helped out a shipmate eventually. After all, we are all family now. Share it in good faith, you will join tour Uncle and Brothers in Arms soon enough….

…not the end….

[bbasslover79]

Really like Your writing style! Eager to read what’s to come.