Date: Thu, 11 Aug 2005 10:34:28 EDT
From: Jarrod749@aol.com
Subject: Raw Recruits  (New Story)

Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read
materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story
contains descriptions of sexual activity between young adults.  Please
write: jarrod749@yahoo.com. I would love to hear if you like my story.

Raw Recruits (New Story)


Preface

Army....fond memories I tell you, in spite of awful trials of strain,
pressure, heat and the pain of growing up. Ahh those full back packs and 5 ton rifles
on 10 mile marches. Rousted out of a dead sleep induced by extreme exhaustion
to the melodic tones of the raging platoon sergeant's "DROP YER COCKS, AND
GRAB YER SOCKS!" What a fuckin' joy! Barely awake, and in 5 minutes you had to
be in your white tee, fatigue pants, and boots, ready to run the trek around
the complement of at least 10 barracks shouting all kinds of Rah! Rah! stuff.
The sweat beading on your skin in the early morning dampness, just after waking
up, was one of the most uncomfortable feelings. It just wasn't right to be
running and sweating 8 minutes out the sack. After that, we'd shower, eat, get
dressed again, but this time it was for the formal combat training....all of it
too hot....and equally dirty. A respite was to sit through a training
instruction, say for the rifle range, and then get down in the foxhole and do what
they just taught you. It seems like basic training is ONLY administered to the
young and unsuspecting in places where the sun never goes down and the temps are
pegged at 95 degrees in the shade all day. I fell asleep on the steps of the
chow hall my morning of KP, and ended up with the shittiest job. One last
thing....the single best thing that ever happened to me was the Army. I learned
more about life, responsibility, myself and people in those 2 years than I could
have ever learned anywhere else in a decade, if ever. Tough as it was, it was
rewarding, I still look fondly back.

I tell you this so you don't miss my play in the following story. There is no
intent to degrade the Army, my memories of which I revere. It's my fantasy. I
bet there were some funs like what I'm about to tell that did happen in
outfits across the world, but, unfortunately, I never got to see them. Hey, but
when I was in that foxhole with Troy, mannnnn, he was the darling of the outfit.
Barely tall enough to make the ranks, but cute as a bug and totally
edible....but nothing ever happened...even when he and I with 2 other buds rented a
house for a weekend when we were finally allowed off the base. Nothin'. I wouldn't
have known how to start or what to do anyways. Maybe I still don't, but I
dream a lot. My bunk was three from the bathroom (head) and showers. Troy's bunk
was way down the front of the barracks which held our whole platoon....44
guys, two floors, a squad of 11 along each wall. Troy would make his way to the
showers each morning 'just for me' I would make believe. I'd lay there and watch
from when he grabbed his towel till when his bubble ass passed the wall of
the head. Somehow, that toy butt looked hotter with the wrapped towel wiggin'
and waggin' around it. Only thing...he wore those flip flops. You should know,
for fungus protection and all, but they make a guy's feet and toes look so ugly.


Raw Recruits

Sergeant Carter was fair it seemed, but tough. We would sure learn about
ourselves from this dude. Maybe more than most of us wanted. We weren't treated
like shit per se, but I was absolutely certain for those 8 weeks I would have
rather been a dog. If you actually did have the energy to be playing with
yourself before reveille, you couldn't get shocked into 'dropping your cock' fast
enough when that dude came screaming through the barracks. He lived right there
with us, but he had an office and sleeping quarters behind, right by the
entrance to the barracks. Nothing elaborate, but compared to what we didn't have,
it was on mansion level.

He knew that his voice stopped the hearts of those closest to it, so
alternately at wakeup time, he would sneak up on the second floor, so the 3d and 4th
squads could get the full benefit of his dulcet tones up close and personal. I
tell you, the man was fair. And you know, you didn't have to toe the line just
to not make it worse for yourself, that man is part of your grade. You fail
in basic, and look like you have a brain, you get 'recycled' for another 8
weeks of fun, with a whole new sergeant with his own fucked up hangups. It's not
like the dumbass schools today, where they just promote the unlearneds to the
next level till they graduate without being able to read their diplomas. The
Army wouldn't think of being so kind. YOU GET ANOTHER CHANCE! Oh joy! Fuck-in'
joy!

It had been a typical brutal, fucking, balls dragging day for 1st Platoon
that day. The Lieutenant seemed in good spirits, last I saw him, he was chinning
on the bar outside the barracks after saluting with the sergeant and wishing
him a 'good day.' The Louie was a
stout Puerto Rican, smart as a whip, and solid muscle from cap to boots. When
I said he was doing chin-ups, the thing about it was...I could not do ONE.
...count 'em...not ONE chin up on that bar. He could do them endlessly,
ONE-handed, and switch hands in the air. The bad of that for me was, if you could jump
up to the bar outside the mess hall, and do 3 chin-ups, you could go in and
eat. Again, I can't do any. Guys that couldn't do 3, had the pleasure of having
to do 10 push-ups to make up for it....or yuh don't fuckin' eat! I hope at
least I added a teensy bit more muscle for the fucking pushups I had to do.

Back to us dragging our dirty, sweaty asses up the steps to flop dead away on
our bunks. It would sound like thunder far away and building as our 22 bodies
bounced those old metal bunks up and down on the linoleum floors....it
continued for several minutes when the other two squads got upstairs and the same
'fullump-bah-bump' could be heard on the ceiling.

The cadre was pretty good about letting us get to rest after 10 hours in the
field. Little by little, with only 45 minutes till meal time, we would peel
those soaked and smelly fatigues off, and get ourselves to the showers.

After dinner was free generally, and your work for tomorrow began. Polishing
those boots so they shined, any brass you had worn....buckles usually....and
of course a complete takedown, cleaning and reassembly of your rifle. Thennnnn
you could think about recreation or resting or getting to bed early. This was,
of course, if you didn't have a 'night problem'....this was where you finish
dinner, form up, and head out to woods of fields in the dark to 'invade'
something of other.

 Some guys were good at all this stuff, and their grades showed it. They were
always done and relaxing by 8. Not me. I was still going when it was 'lights
out' and had to shine boots out on the steps outside under the fire light. The
sergeants always knew this, so your grades would be hurt.

After we were pretty much, 'in the Army', you know, like after the second
week, you were an old hand as a recruit and knew pretty much what to expect and
started to more easily roll with any surprises.

I didn't mention...this 44 man platoon....well, except for 8 of us white
kids, who were just out of high school and more than 'green', was all black kids.
Oh, and Sergeant Carter.... you right...he be black too.

Anyways, it's our first Monday of the third week, and I had really been doing
better now, but I was having to be called in to answer to the sergeant time
and again about my fuck ups. It was nothing new to me as a result, when he
called for me around 7 PM that Monday.

My name is 'Carter' too, but that's my first name. Last name's Osborne.
Mannn, if you looked up 'rube' in the dictionary, you'd see my pitcher. I was 5'
10", 160, strawberry blond, freckles everywhere, the fairest of fair skin. I'd
be smothered in that sunscreen before we headed out each morning. My chest was
defined, wiry muscles tight right down to my toes.

I knocked and entered the Sergeant's quarters, snapped to and reported, "Pvt.
Osborne, reporting as ordered sergeant!" As we were off duty, we could meet
with him in our shorts and tees....socks or no. This day I was only in my green
boxers, with my dogtags blinking in the overhead light. The room was very
stark. By design probably, to make you feel it was an interrogation every time
you went in there.

As usual the Sergeant was very informal...he was sitting behind his desk in
his army green socks and boxers.

He told me, "Carter, you made marked improvement since early last week...and
I expect it to continue."

"It will sergeant," I played up.

"How it feel out there, boy? You know, being  one of only eight white dudes
in the whole unit?"

Still at attention, I all of a sudden broke sweat. "Ummm, nothin' sir-uhm
sergeant. Guys is guys."

Sarge came out from behind the desk and was rubbing the front of his boxers.
"That right?" he said. "Ain'tchu fum Al'bama?"

I said 'Yes', and he said something like, 'And you think the niggahs in
Al'bama is....JUST GUYS?' "

I was shaking now. Sweat was dripping from under my pits already. By now he
would have told me to be 'at ease' or even sit down....I was still at full
attention...and scared I was gonna break down in front of him. It's true....the
blacks where I was from, weren't just 'guys'. We didn't have anything to do with
them. They went their way, we went ours. He knew that.

"Y-y-yesirsargeant!!" I stammered.

'SMACK!' he smacked me so hard across my face I saw stars! "You lyin', boy! I
knows you uppity white trash treat the bruthahs like they still fuckin'
slaves back dere in A-L-A-B-A-M-A!" He funned at his pronunciation of Alabama.

"Where you live there, boy...Birm'a'ham? The big city? Looking down your
faggot noses at the bruthahs?"

"No, sergeant...w-w-we-we live on a small farm south Al'bama sergeant.
Really. No. We--my pa ..we ain't got nuthin'" and that was the truth.

He said, "Yeh, right," disbelieving, then said, "down 'at yo' farm....you and
yer faggot buddies fum school, you getcher overalls down and chow cock I
bet....all you fuckin' whities is queers. AIN'TCHU???"

God, he'd never been mean, let alone this mean.

He said, "Fum here on, when I calls you in tuh see me, BOYYYYY, you reports
at attention, and then strips whutever you wearing till you completely
white-ass nekked, kneel at attention, and wait for orders."

I'm glistening my entire body from the sweat beading all over, and I said,
"Yes, sergeant."

"WELLLLLLLLL!!!" he screamed. Oh man. he meant right then!

I shucked my boxers and kneeled at attention. I think it was straightest I'd
held myself in my 18 years. Chest out, gut in, chin tucked, hands straight
down, fingers together, palms in....I was trembling so, I was afraid I'd pass out.

Sarge wasn't that bulky. He was a wiry dude, too. About 6 foot...175 maybe.
He had those slender long type muscles of a runner or swimmer, and very toned
and smoothe. Oh man, so was his giant cock!

I had caught sight of his prick pushing out his shorts but was so worried for
myself that I didn't have time to think about it. Well, there was no more
thinking...there it was! That dude had easily 9 fucking inches of the blackest
cock I had ever seen. I mean that thing was black as coal. Shiney, and slick. He
spit in his hand, wiped it all over and around his cock with particular
attentiveness to the big knob at the end.

Then he wiped that spitty, cock-wiped hand across and around my face before
sticking four fingers into my mouth. I looked up into his face. It was a stern,
determined look. I looked own again at that bobbing dick. It was fascinating
me somehow. It was long, but really not that big around. It didn't taper like
my 6 inches did...narrow at the end and fat at the root. His dick was the same
around from head to root. The slender look of it made it look even longer it
seemed. I remember thinking, 'My god, it's a foot long!'

I actually started thinking things that I knew were certain sizes to bracket
in the actual size. My mind settled on 9 inches...what little of my mind I
could get to function in the most harrowing moment of my life.

'What would my 'Bama buds think of me, on my knees to a fuckin' nih.......'

"Fum now on, you faggot joker, at 7, you have your nekked ass in here,
serving yo' sergeant right nicely with yo' white tongue, yo' pinky lips, and yo'
freckly pinkywhite asssss!" he seemed to sigh saying that.

"Ggwulluluchhh!" I was sucking black dick for the first time in my life. I
kept thinking how fucking hard that thing was. Man he pumped my face and tested
my gagger, telling me it would be a good idea by the next night, if I had
learned to get my finger down my throat without upchuckin'. I couldn't believe it
was happening. My life...everything was going so well. I was really feeling
the part of being a man....and being in the Army....and now...now I knew I'd be
nothing but a fuckin' cocksucker for at least the next 6 weeks.

Goddddd....who else might find out? I could get drummed out for this and the
shame of it...oh my god....even back home I'd be ruined. It would spread all
over!!! As his hand cupped the back of brush cut red-blond hair to pull me onto
him, I bobbed like a madman on it. All I kept thinking was my buds home and
being ruined. I wanted to make than man like me, to serve him, so he wouldn't
destroy me.

"I see you been doin'iss before....that right faggot?"

"Oh godddd...I nodded while I ate him down further."

He laughed...."I knew you was a faggot...all you whities'll drop for cock at
the sound of a zipper!"

He pulled out and yanked up on my chin..."That's right, ain't it boy?"

I shook my head, "Oh no sergeant...it's not, truly sergeant...I don't...we
don't...cock...an'all. It's yuh know sometimes we gets horny out by the barn,
and yuh know, we help each other out...it's no big thing back home
sergeant....for true."

He squeezed my cheeks and said, "Heah's whut I know boyyyyy. YOU suck cock.
"Dat is IT! Get on it!"

"Ssqwulllccch!" I was face-riding that slim jim one more time. He humped my
mouth and ran that fucker in and out so fast again and again and again and the
spit and prefuck slop was drooling down the length of his cock, down his balls
and to the floor. There was drool off my bottom lip dripping to the floor,
too.

He was a reaming machine. He pumped and pumped and pumped and blowed a
scorching load to the back of my mouth. He pulled to rest the head on my tongue
pushing down on my lower jaw so he could watch the last of his spooge puddle and
build up on my tongue. "Hold that cum on yur tongue boy," he said as he rubbed
the entire length of his 9 inches all over my face and in my hair. He even
sticked the cum-drooly knob in my ears and up into each nostril. He rubbed it
over my eyelids.

He had me keep my tongue out and mouth open wide and bent my head back so the
cum puddle slop would ooze back down my whole tongue. THAT....my young
cocksucking private white boi, is sheer bee-uuuu-teee! Swallow now pussy."

Oh god....pussy....I hope he wasn't...oh shit...he did say asssss....before.
My butt just sphinctered all up in response to my new fear.

"Okay, toolfool, lick off my rod and balls....goooo-ooood! You fine boi!
Yessss! Now lick up the slop you made on the floor, get out, and report back 7 PM
tomorrow. If you do good on your performance this week boy, I might be coming
to get you for a morning round, too.

My shock was obvious as I snapped up and stared into his face. He smiled, and
said, "Yes. Yes, boi. Mornin' wood, boi....put's hair on your chest." He told
me to crawl to the door before standing and get out.

"Hey, Pvt. CockSUCK!" he called me.

"Yes, sergeant," I answered cringing.

"Thet Pvt. Conway...."
"Yesargeant?"
"He be fum NEEEEbraska, right?
"Yesargeant."
"Tell him Sergeant Carter wants him to report right now."
"Yesargeant."

I closed the door behind me and was shaking more, now. Conway...man...he was
white, too. He couldn't be....nawwww....he wouldn't....Sarge had sat down
again behind his desk and had not put his boxers back on.

'Damn! What am I gonna tell Conway? I can't tell him anything without telling
him what I just had to do.' "Hey Conway, I called to him....Sarge wants you
to report to him."

'Knock! Knock!' I saw Conway enter, and looked away. I felt so bad for him. I
shoulda said...but I couldn't...I just couldn't. I shook my head, reached for
my mouthwash and toothbrush. God I hated the taste....even the thought of the
taste....shit whut am I doin'. Sarge said no mouthwash or toothbrush till
next morning. He wanted me to 'savor' him.

Conway saluted the sitting sergeant, and said, "Pvt. Conway, reporting as
ordered sergeant."

"How it feel out there, boy? You know, being  one of only eight white dudes
in the whole unit?"

Still at attention, Conway all of a sudden broke sweat. "Ummm, nothin'
sir-uhm sergeant. Jus'umm, uh, nuthin'."

Sarge was rubbing his cock behind and under the desk. "That right?" he said.
"Ain'tchu fum Neeebraska, boyyyyy?"

"Y-y-yeser-geant...yess."

"Seems to me dat state got lotsa corn. I bet there be lotsa cornhuskin'...and
lots more cornHOLIN'. DAT RIGHT! BOYYYYYYYYY!"

Conway was breaking down. He was a good ol' boy from the midwest and didn't
know from why the sarge was coming at him. He also knew he and his j,o, buds
from school used to have cock-shoot contests down at the creek after school and
in summer. And there was always more than their share of pants wrasslin' in
the lofts too. He was afraid.....afraid the sarge was gonna make him blurt it
all out and make him the fuckin' platoon queer. He was shaking so bad, the
sergeant couldn't get over it. He hadn't even started on the fucker and he 'owned'
him already.

Then, to Conway's great relief, the sarge went gentle and soothing, and said,
"Hey, boy....I don't want you getting yo'seff all in a twist. Here, c'mon
over here. It's gonna be all right boy. We just have to have these things squared
away about where you all boys stand, see."

Gratefully, Conway nodded real anxious like and then started to move toward
the sergeant around the desk. He was also shirtless, in boxers and nothing but
his dogtags. His flat-to-his head golden hair glowed under the light. His new,
yet apprehensive smile made for one beautiful 18 year old. Fair skin, but
able to tan, a cute sticky out ears, and straight nose with the tiniest little
pug to the end, made him look about 12. His cobalt blue eyes were entrancing.
His fingers and toes were average length and thickness. He was trying to really
avoid a face-to-face with the sarge so he sort of looked over the dude's shiny
shaved head. It's not clear if he would have realized ol' sarge was butt
naked anyway. It sure would have helped him be more prepared if he did.

The sarge moved with snake-like smoothes and quicks as soon as Conway stood
along side the chair arm. He pulled the boxers hem and Conway was bareass.
Sarge whistled in surprise, and pleasure that Conway also had a fine 7 inch cut
prick. It was smoothe and milky white....and Sarge said, " Looks like it just
came outta the box, son," gently fondling it.

Conway buckled as his prick twitched in the sergeant's hand. If he hadn't
been used be handled by other's....girls and boys, he mighta blown his wad at
that first touch!
Somehow he held himself together through this awful shame. Even the party at
the creek with his girlfriend, and the other guys and their dates...when they
stripped him naked and hid his clothes....not even that was as shaming as what
was happening to his entire being right that moment.

Oh man was that ever only the beginning!

Sarge rolled his chair back from under the desk, and fed those four fingers
into the wide-eyed Conway's mouth like he did me. Removing them he swabbed that
9 inch meat of his with Conway's spittle, shocking Conway at just the sight
of that black monster. It's blackness seemed to make it even more menacing.

The cockswabbed fingers rose once again to Conway's face and he didn't shove
them in this time....he said, "Suck yo' Sarge's fingers boyyyyyy!"

After about two pregnant seconds of immobility, Conway's face lurched ahead
to take the fingers in, opening wide as he could.

Then with Conway still right next to the arm of the chair, he took the spit
slopped fingers and slid them through Conway's buttcrease.

The kid's big blue eyes nearly shot across the room out of their sockets! His
butt fucked forward and up like it was trying to get away.

Sarge wasn't just 'oiling' pussy....when he got to Conway's rosebud, his
finger dug through and went all the way to the third knuckle. Conway's sobs were
sobs of shame. His whine spoke to the pain he felt.

"I want you to squat wide legged at the knees boy, and open that pussy for
ol' sarge. S'no big deal fo' yo' cornHOLER's boyyyy. Ever'buddy knows y'all pop
yur cherries 'round about when you 'leven year old, right?"

Conway couldn't believe his becoming a 'man' in the Army, and how good he
felt after a great first two weeks had descended to him being made a cuntboy here
in the Sarge's office.

Conway crouched and to his total disbelief as he relaxed his butt to
concentrate on his knees bending out wide, Sarge's first and third fingers joined his
middle one up inside Conway.

Now to what Conway thought was the ultimate debasement (did this kid have
lots to learn) Sarge said, "Now bob yo'seff up and down on those three friggers,
babeeee. Up and down, and DON'T you lose any of 'em outcher hole, boy."

Crying now, well just tearing, no sounds, the tears poured down his cheeks
and he rose that first time with the Sarge holding his chin up so he could look
right into Sarge's face while he boffed his own hole.

Down he went, then up, down, up, and Sarge started to count cadence, Hut, 2,
3, 4, Hut, 2, 3, 4...faster and faster. Conway frigged his hole in deeper and
deeper squats as the Sarge kept lowering his arm for 5 full minutes non-stop.

Then he motioned for Conway to stop, removed his fingers while making the kid
stay in the lowest squat yet. His tail was 8 inches off the floor. The
shit-funky fingers then found their way into Conway's mouth. He almost puked, got
real dizzy, but Sarge held him up. In spite of the lack of respect Conway had
for Sarge now, the fact that he kept him from falling down Conway took as nice
gesture.

Sarge again held his chin up, and looked right into his foggy eyes and said,
"Now I want you to show your Sarge how much you really appreciate what he
doing for you here."

Conway looked confused....but not for long. Sarge patted his thigh and said,
"Hop yo' l'il white pussy ass up here wit' yo' sarge and tell him all about
how good it is being one of only 8 whiteboys in the platoon."

Conway was fooled again. As he readily got up out of his squat, he thought
the Sarge was just funning and would make like he was gonna tell him a kiddie
story on his lap and then it would be over.

Nahhhh! Conway forget what else was already in Sarge's lap waiting on
Conway's pussyass....hot, slicked, black and reddd-deeeee!

NINE FUCKIN' INCHES OF EBONY BOY PLEASER! That's whut!

Conway anxiously lifted his right leg over Sarge's legs and then Sarge just
picked him up and after four down-tries, his cock found Conway's slot on the
fifth. As he sat the boy Sarge's cock sought entry as it drove the trough.
"Ahhhh, thar she blows!!!!" Sarge bellowed as his cockhead found the browneye.
Without a hand to his prick, Sarge just worked Conway around and around till the
head found entry room and broke through the kid's previously frigged bunger.
Now he administered the worst of all pains....the self inflicted. He said, "Now
my pussy....let's get your Sarge all the up there. Conway was tremoring. When
I say 15 boy, you better be sittin' fine and glossy in my pubie
hairs.....1-2-3.....and on he went. Conway was a blubbering, dying inside, pained beyond
belief, manfucked tool by the 6th inch at number "9". He squatted wide out and he
felt his hole giving some...number "11" and 7 inches in.

He burst out into terrible body wracking sobs, convulsively and voila!!! He
was in by number "13"!

"Aaaacccchhh! Sirsergeantohpleeez! I hurt ohgodddohmyhole! Hurts! Sooooo
muchhhh. I hurt so badinmyholesergeant my hole!" he screamed into the Sarge's
caressing shoulder and neck where he kept him till the yowling ended.

"I think ahm giving y'all cunt too much time to get fucked, you know boy?"
'SMACKSMACK!' he waled Conway's cheeks one after the other, using both hands.
"'Member how good you friggered my fingers before boy?

Conway nodded real quick.

"Now frig yo'seff on Sarge's ol' cornholer! Must feel nice and smooth to you
ol' boys who been so used to corn cobs till you found out whatchu could do
wit' each other's dicks I bet."

"Tuhmorrow mornin' boycunt...you skip the run...I'll tell yur squad leader.
You be in here and 'tween now and then you better learn how to get nine big
black boyfuckin' inches down yur throat....CUNTboy!"

Conway bounded on that ebony truncheon like a pinky-tanned piston. He was
hummin' on that cock-muscle like a choo-choo train. He was in a
frenzy...wild....he started to cry out for all he was worth. Sarge short-circuited that and
yanked his face into his own shoulder.

Sarge smiled as he felt the kid's open-mouthed slobber drooling down his
sides. The fuckin' kid really got into it. He was a keeper!

In a whiney grunting kinda whimper Sarge let go with his second load of
whitewash up inside the walls of the whiteboi private.

He pulled the kid by a flexed upper arm muscle around his forehead, and
dragged him to first, the spittle stream down his side to have him lick....then as
the twisted kid body slipped from Sarge's cock, his face was pulled onto it
for swabbing. Once his soldier pleaser was dutifully slicked and squeaky clean,
Conway found himself held by the waist upside down with his face in the
Sarge's spooge that dripped from Conway's asshole. Sarge made the kid finger the
remainder out of his bung and suck it off his fingers. 'Smack! he waled the kid's
face so hard he snapped his head around, and pointed into his eyes, "DON'T
FERGET, FAGGOT. On yur knees, nekked, right'chere, tuhmorrah mawnin'....7 AM
sharp...and PRACTICE whut I tol' yuh tuhnight!"

Sarge's foot was in the small of Conway's back as the kid crawled on his
belly in a contorted breast stroke, pleading for release and getting no quarter.

When he got to the door, Sarge turned back toward the desk and said, "Send
Pvt. Denny in here."

In a few moments, there was a gentle knock at the door, and Pvt. Denny, a
dark hair-haired, olive skinned specimen stepped through, closed the door and
reported to the Sergeant.

"OAK-la-HOMO!!!! 'Dat right, Private?" he barked at Denny.

"Uh, sir-uh sergeant....for," he corrected.

"Whadju say, troop?"

"Uh...sergeant...it's Oakla-homUH!" Pvt. Denny said.

"Zat so. You got big balls correckin' the dude whut sets the work and drill
schedules? You sho' got some big pair on you, BOYYYYYYYY!!"

"You fum Flah-rida boy?"

"Yes sergeant, Boynton Beach," Denny said.

Sarge said, "Boycunt Beach....I'd say they pegged you right fer that town."

"Um, no uh, Sergeant...it's BOYN-TONNNN Beach," the kid repeated.

Under his breath from the other room, Sarge was saying to himself, "This
fuckin' kid is OH-VUH!!!"

"Really, private. Have a seat at my desk there. Sit in my chair and write
that spelling down. I wanna see how it looks in writing when a town gets named
after a young dude's pussy ass," Sarge called from the bedroom.

Denny thought he was really gettin' a treat sittin' in the Sarge's chair and
writing the 'correct' spelling of his town. This boy was totally unarmed from
the neck up. [mb]

Next thing he knew, he almost couldn't breathe. A big black arm had wrapped
'round his forehead and had dragged him out of the seat and up over the back of
the chair. His neck was up and out with the top of his head almost parallel
to the ground. His eyes were wide as saucers staring at the Sarge's
nipples....that is, if he was able to see.

"Huccch! Uccch! Sucucckkkhh!" Denny choked.

"You right, boyyy. You gonna suck some, that IS right! Annnnd here we
go!!!!!" Sarge bellowed.

The never-ending surge of Sarge's cock send Pvt. Denny to new heights of
rockets and red glare! Sparks went off behind his eyes as the 9 inch poker stunned
him and numbed his throat muscle as it drove through and down and down and
fuck-innnnnn' D-O-W-N!!!!

For only the slightest moment, ol' Sarge got a stab of fear when he thought
the young suckboy private stopped breathing. Then, ahhhhhh, Sarge relaxed and
flexed his meat in it's choker sheath.....young Denny's chest bucked and he
snorted airs through his nose, way down there under Sarge's balls.

Soon Pvt. Denny was getting into a nose breathing rhythm. Sergeant Carter
smiled at the sight of that boy's slim belly ducking under his ribs so deep,
trying to attach itself to his backbone. The smuckin' and smorkin' out the boy's
nose gave Sarge all he needed to drive on and give young Pvt. Denny all the
pleasure he never knew he dreamed of his whole life. Sarge drew back, unreeled
his ebony power line and then drove back down. The boy bucked and heaved, tears
streamed down into his hairline. He was soooo fuckin' tight and Sarge was so
fuckin' readdddeeeeee, that a fresh load of Army cockjam shot straight into
Denny's belly. Sarge was joltin' and hoppin' to his toes up and down as he pulsed
that fuckload down into that fresh young dude!

He was finally able to slip back out of the recruit, and Pvt. Denny
fallumpphed down into the seat of the chair gripping his throat, sniffling and gawking
for air. "I knew it! I knew it fer damn sure you fuckin' faggot!!!" Sarge
yelled in glee pointing as the goo slop oozing into kid's boxers where he sat.
"You fuckin' nutted from that deep throat, whiteboi!"

The kid's hands came up palms out, in his denial as he tried to speak through
his overstrained throat. Shaking his head wildly side to side, he pointed to
his throat that he couldn't speak, but he meant he wasn't no faggot....ending
in a whisper that sounded a lot like, "I'm not..I'm not...really."

Sarge smiled and petted the side of the kid's head and as the kid tried to
smile back, Sarge said in a calming tone...."But you don't hafta worry, pussy,
nobody else needs to know how much you love face-riding this big black fuckrod,
boi. You be getting a ride ever' day, whitebread....yayassss....ever' fuckin'
day."

Tears filled Pvt. Denny's eyes again as he was ordered to crawl to the door
before leaving, and wagging his half hard cock at Denny, he said, "Dis here joy
stick be waiting fer you to getcher nut on it ag'in, tomorrah night, right
about this time. Knock twice, come in, strip nekked, bend your neck back over
the chair, and wait."

As the door shut behind Denny, he gripped his throat, tears streaking his
face, and he staggered out with a 5 inch dark stain oozing on the front of his
boxers, amongst the rest of the two bottom floor squads.

Some of the black dudes watching at first showed some concern....then they
would see the stain, and snickers broke out all the way down the center aisle as
he worked his way to the head. He stopped at Pvt. Barry's bunk and tried to
tell him Sarge wanted to see him....but nothin' came out. He went over to him,
tapped him on the shoulder...the kid had been polishing his boots and didn't
see him there. In as loud a rasping whisper he could muster, he said, "Sergeant
Carter wants you now."

"Oh, 'kay, Denny...say...whut the fuck's happened to you? You been in a
fight?"

Denny just turned and stumbled off into the head.

Putting up his boots, Pvt. Barry made his way up the aisle. Everybody he
passed, all the black recruits, were up and in groups 3 -5 guys, pointing, and
talking in hushed voices, and now gawked and shut down as Barry passed, with a
quick smile as he went by.

What they had been pointing at was me, Pvt. Osborne, and Pvt Conway, passed
out dead away on our bellies in their bunks, and the mess that Denny looked
like when he came out of the Sarge's quarters.

Now they fucking knew! The absolutely fuckin' knew! The only four white
recruits in the two squads had been called to Sergeant Carter's office. The first
three came out like they'd been through a grinder, and here goes blond and
brushcut, fair-skinned, blue-eyed Pvt. Barry. Not one...not ONE, black recruit was
called in there. And none of them had been ever called in there the whole of
these first two weeks!

Knowing smiles started to break out. One dude, they called him Magic, pointed
to the ceiling, and then he poked at one of the others and pointed to the
stairs. Pvt. Brown took off on the dead run and bounded up the stairs. Minutes
later, the leaders and asst leaders from the upstairs squads, soon were clomping
down the back stairs and out to the front of the barracks where now every
black kid on the first floor was circled up with all the others.

Magic said, "We think Sarge is puttin' it to white bois." He pointed at me
and Conway, out like lights. Then, Pvt Denny was just coming out of the head,
naked carrying his damp boxers which he had just rinsed clean in the shower.
They all watched as he got to his bunk and fell on it....he didn't move after he
hit it.

The others gave out with long low breathy whistles...."Holy sheeeeitttt! Can
it really be?
Can it really fuckin' be? An' we gonna get to see it all be played out? Oh
man oh man oh mannnn!!!" was some of what they all was saying in raised whispers.

Magic grabbed Brown, and sent him on the eavesdropping mission to the Sarge's
door. They were in barefeet so they made no sounds, except for an occasional
skin squeak on the polished floor. Brown slithered to the door and kneeled to
see if there was anything to see, but there wasn't. He eased his ear to the
door, and then they all jumped when Brown's head shot back away from the door.
Calm settled in when Brown went back against it with his ear again.

He soon was rushing back to the mob, bent over like a little hunchback, as if
he was ducking something. He was breathless. "Don't know if'n I kin member it
all, but, Sarge yelled a couple times...I don't know what about. But I did
hear him say, "...chest against the front of the desk....hands behind yur
back....chew dem big black heels....YAHHHHHH....now da soles, right up to where is
the balls o' yo' Sarge's big black feets!"

Then he said something about sticking out his butt away fum da desk...den I
heard him say, "Beat'cher meat against the fronna the desk. I wanna hear that
needle dick'a yo's makin' dem nice steady splat sounds till you cums from
getting off suckin' ol' Sarge's toes..."

The black kids were at first shocked, then they were nodding, smiling and
finally high fivin' and ruff-housin' with each other. They was gonna get to watch
six full weeks whiteboi whup ass!!!!

Magic's devious mind was whirling and pulled the other squad leaders aside
and plans was being made. They agreed they wanted to wait out tonight and the
next night to see if they knew the whole pattern, timings and generally,
anything they should know before they "did anything."

Magic said, " I wanna watch yur four white dudes make the trip down here
tonight. We'll take turns listenin' at the door to collect all the needs to
knows." They all slapped hands and made their way to either their bunks, or smaller
groups for cards, earphones and cds, or a magazine.

Pvt. Barry looked generally the best of the four when he came out of Sarge's
room, but he was hanging his head, rubbing his crimson red face and gently
touching his butt through his boxers. The upper part of his thighs were beet red,
too. The others expected him to go into the head like the previous three
guys, but instead, he went upstairs and soon was coming down behind Pvt. Carey.
Pvt Barry went on into the head, as whiteboi # 5 made his way with a wave or a
nod here and a smile there to the black guys he passed, before stopping at
Sarge's door to knock, then enter.

Davis, another of the black guys rushed to the door to hear what he could. As
things remained quiet, they figured if the routine held, Pvt. Carey would be
in with Sarge at least 15 minutes, so they found themselves all inching closer
to the door wanting to get a personal earful.

Inside, Sarge called out from his bedroom in back for Carey to come in. The
kids outside all heard loud and clear, "Yes Sergeant!" and then all was quiet
again.

Sarge was sitting on the edge of his bed back in just his green boxers...same
as Carey was dressed. The one good thing about after hours meets with the
training sergeants was that it was come as you are....no formality. There sure
wasn't gonna be any formality with Carey this night!

"Frisco, eh boy?" Sarge blurted out as he grabbed the kid's wrist and pulled
him right between his knees.

"Uhnnff, uh yes, Sergeant," answered Carey caught off guard and stumbling
into the big man.

"Guess all you fags out dere gets to blow yur share 'o cock, huh?" Sarge
teased.

"I'm no....uccchhhh...nooooooooo!" Carey squealed like a stuffed pig. And he
WAS! Sarge's right middle finger sunk three knuckles up the kid's shitter and
he fell over the black sergeant's shoulder. Sarge could swear the kid rutted
back onto his digit and he smiled.

Sarge was biting Carey's left titnip, and then all the ways through the other
room and the door, the 12 guys hovering by the door heard the blood curdling
scream as Sarge drew blood gettin' him some white boy tit. The eavesdroppers
all jumped back and got shivers from the screams.

"Yo' gonna give ol' Sarge whutchu been givin' 'em white dudes out in 'Frisco
ain'tchu? AIN'TCHU!"

"Yassssssssssssssss!" Carey cried out after first shaking his head 'No'. But
then he said, "Sergeant, please, PLEEEZE, I don't....didn't....never...."

"You don't gotta beg, sweetbread....just spread that boipussy out wide for
all the world to admire, and you'll have all the cock you could ever need
right'chere in ol' Sarge's shorts, eh, boy!"

Carey almost passed out when Sarge pulled his head back so he could see what
was sticking from those sergeant underwears. Sarge's plum-sized cockhead was
already blooming out of its foreskin and the deepest, angriest purple color
Carey was ever gonna see.

'Swuppfff!' Carey's boxers fell to the tops of his bare feet, and were now
hanging from his heels as Sarge went about beating Carey's fine white buns to a
bright crimson. Carey jumped and jerked as he lay across Sarge's lap with the
man's monster prick rubbing against his lower belly. Sarge's big hands were
torture to Carey's tender milky cheeks.

"Ol' Sarge gonna put some callouses out back o' you boy. You gonna thank me
fer makin' yur butt tough and strong to handle all dem johns you snags wit' it
back home, boy!"

Carey still tried to correct Sarge about his never having done stuff like
that, but no matter, he'd be doing it in the Army, and lovin' it, wouldn't he?

Without even shucking his own drawers, Sarge flipped young Carey up and
around like a baton to be feet down straddling Sarge on the bed, and crouched above
the steeled black masher that was about to make a new man of him.

Tears and screams, and Carey sank to Sarge's purple knob, was twisted and
wiggled this way and that till another seering scream told of the entry of
Sarge's cockknob through some crackahboi tailpussy. As Carey edged into
speechlessness, Sarge heated his ear and said, "Yo' doin' fine boy. You the tightest fuck
ol' Sarge ever had....it's gonna break my heart to stretch you out son....but
leastwise, I kin have yo' as yo' is right now....hot, and moist and tight for
yo' new daddy Sarge...unhhhh!" Sarge grunted through another few inches that
he drove up into Carey.

The spit fingering he did earlier with Carey when he had the boy lube that
big black finger time after time, made for a still difficult, but smoother ride,
than had it been totally dry. Sarge after all, didn't want his new young tool
on sick call with a bleeding pussy in the morning.

Soon, after the several screams, and the subsequent quiet, the huddle out
front of Sarge's door was breaking away assuming Carey would be coming out soon.
Then they could swear there was some kind of chant from inside.

"Tell ol' Sarge, just like he taught'chu, cockboi."

"I love tuh fuck! Love big dick! Love tuh fuck! Love big dick! Love BLACK
dick! Big BLACK cock!" on and on and on. They could hear smacking sounds and
mumbling as well, when Sarge had to remind young Carey of the words to his new
chant....he just seemed to keep forgetting. Now whut the fuck else could be on
his mind just then that he couldn't remember his love cry....'specially with
that conductor's wand pounding a steady rutfuck up into his very soul!?

Picking the whole white private up and slamming him into the mattress, his
feet over Sarge's shoulders, he was pummeled over them squeaky springs till he
was a babbling fool, mumbling, "Uhh cock...fuckin' uh
black..nnghhhfuckin'....dick....ohhh..ahyeh...cock...!"

As Sarge shot his load up into Carey fine, and deep, he jacked the boy's
tool, caught his load in his left hand as he still reamed boy asshole and fed the
boy's own cum to him.

Carey had the biggest cum of his few years, but his screams of joy were
unheard. Nothing came out though he mouthed the words.

Sarge wiped the cum dregs and smell all over Carey's flushed and sweaty face.

He picked up the new cuntboy and carried him to his shower, sat him on the
floor and turned the water on.

Twelve black faces should have turned white when Sarge ripped that door open
and found them all there bent to it. They scurried off to their bunks like
rats, except Sarge grabbed a piece of Pvt. Brown.

"Bring me Pvt. Hinds from upstairs, boy!"

Brown was a vapor trail down the aisle and up the stairs two and three at a
time. Brown had the biggest black feet for a smallish dude.

Hinds was a 6 foot rube from Kansas. Black crewcut... deep black eyes, olive
skin, muscular but not overly so. Clearly he was used to heavy lifting, either
in the gym, on a farm, or both.

On a larger scale, Sarge's body build was about the same.

"So you fuck sheep....that true, boy?"

Hinds said, smiling, "Nawww, Sarge...sergeant! I never did nuthin' like'at."

Sarge barked, "Don'tchu lie to me boy...I kin make it tough for you here."

"Honest Sarge, if ahm lying....ahm dyin'," the big kid raised up his swearing
hand.

"Okay, I guess I b'lieve yuh, but how bout beatin' off wit'cher buds and
lippin' some cock for 'em down by the creek?"

Hinds was such a doof. He started to say 'No', then blushed and sorta hung
his head. "Hey Sarge, twaren't nuthin'. Just da guys. Coolin' heels after baling
and stuff, we all horny....you know hepp a guy out, is all."

"No mattah, boi....cuz you gonna be DEEP intuh heppin' out 'round here fer
the next six weeks...."

'WHAP! WHAP! WHAPPP!' Hinds took three shots to his suddenly crotch high face
as Sarge slammed him to his knees and beat him around the face with 9 inches
of Pvt. Carey-warmed fucktool.

With Carey buttslime still gracing his masher, Sarge shoved it into the back
of Hinds' mouth, "Gwallkkk!"

He was wretching, trying to throw up, starting to double over, and Sarge
pinched the dude's nose and slipped his vomit plug right into Hinds' throat. He
didn't move. He fondled the big kid's neck and the side of his face till he felt
the convulsing vomit torment ease.

Then, sliding back out onto the gagging Private's tongue his told him to swab
his tongue all around that big, black, asshole-dirtied meat. Then he pulled
out and pushed the pisshole slot right into Hinds' lips and said, "Kiss that
big black cock boy, like you nevah kissed anythin' in yur whole wuthless fuckin'
life! DO IT!!!!" Sarge screamed.

Hinds' couldn't kiss enough, or kiss enough of it! He sloppy-smacked kisses
on that monster hog like there was nuthin' else more joyful in the whole
world....hmmm...there isn't is there?


Please write and tell me if you like my story. Send comments to
jarrod749@yahoo.com
Positive and negative comments welcome.
For other stories, see JARROD on the Authors Page.