Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2005 18:26:26 -0800 From: Donald Gollihue Subject: A Sailor's Fantasy (Part 1) James Crawford had two months left on his enlistment in the US Navy. He was a Hospital Corpsman stationed with the marines on Camp Pendleton in California. He had served his time with distinction and had numerous awards to show his competence and dedication to the military. To his marines, he was simply known as "Doc." He took care of them, and in turn, they took care of him -- which sometimes included getting him wasted at the bars. His replacement was green as hell, but he was eager to learn. So James drilled knowledge into the young man carefully and thoroughly. He wanted his guys to be taken care of after he was gone. What no one in the entire battalion knew was that their Doc was gay. James was careful to avoid staring at the men in his care, and he could ignore the attraction simmering under the surface. This is, until three weeks ago. A new 2nd Lt. named Kline was transferred into the battalion to serve under Captain Hanson in the supply department. Neither man was impossible for James to resist. It was only when he saw the two officers together that he would get an uncontrolled erection. They seemed to have an interesting and brotherly chemistry together. James had no illusions. The men were decidedly straight, but that didn't stop him from beating off every night to the thought of them screwing each other senseless. James had deliberately left some important information off of the last supply requisition he had turned into the warehouse, and he had been summoned to answer for his errors. He walked briskly through the warehouse toward the back offices. He knew that Captain Hanson liked to have Lt. Kline in the room when he was chewing someone's ass, and he grinned nervously as he thought about what he was about to face. James rounded the corner and rapped twice on the Captain's office door. "Enter." James did so and crisply shut the door behind him. He then turned and stood before the Captain's desk at attention. "HM2 Crawford, reporting as ordered sir!" Just has he'd hoped, both men were in the room. The 2nd Lt. stood off to the side and behind the Capt. His cammies were pressed and nearly perfect. His broad shoulders flexed as he examined James critically, and looked for some exploitable flaw in his uniform or grooming. He had blue eyes and light brown hair, cut into a severe high-and-tight. His skin was tanned from constant exposure in the California deserts, and his legs were as thick as young trees. He found no obvious discrepancy in James' appearance and so remained silent. "Petty officer Crawford." Capt. Hanson said and leaned back in his chair. His green eyes settled on the sailor before him. Hanson was nearly the opposite of Lt. Kline. He was slim, with a physique that would do justice to an Olympic swimmer. He swam and bicycled, in addition to running the various courses around the base. He was only 5'9" as opposed to the Lt. towering 6'3". But even with the difference in physical presence, there was no doubt as to who was in charge. "Tell me," he continued, and pushed the requisition toward James, "what the fuck is this piece of shit on my desk?" James saw Lt Kline's face twitch in a half-smile. These guys got off on power, and its displays. The sailor kept himself from grinning only with effort. He took on a nervous appearance, playing the frightened underling for the men. "Sir! It's a requisition I sent in two days ago. It's missing the requisition number, prices for two items and I initialed instead of signing it." He didn't even look down at the form. The two men stared at him. "You, you knew what was wrong with the form?" No malice was in Lt. Kline's voice; only wonder and curiosity. "Yes sir." Now James allowed himself to smile. "I wanted an audience with you both. And I knew this was the way to get it." The Capt. stood. "Crawford, you had better explain RIGHT NOW." Shock had worn away and was replaced by anger as he stared at James. James came out of attention and turned to the door. He closed the blinds on the window there and turned back to the men. An absolutely predatory look rested in his gaze. Captain Hanson dealt with power every day, and felt an uneasy premonition wash over him. This sailor didn't look like he was about to be cowed by his rank. Quite the opposite seemed to be the case. "Crawford, what are you ..." "Gentlemen." James cut off the man in mid-sentence. "We all know you are both lifers. You revel in the rank, the brotherhood, and the challenge of the corps." "I'm writing you up for disrespect, Crawford." Lt. Kline's face was red with anger. "No. No I don't think so." James said, somewhat evilly. Both the officers opened their mouths in surprise. "If you don't do EXACTLY as I tell you to do, you both will never advance in the corps again." James looked at each man in turn and waited for them to speak. "You don't have any power here, Crawford. And now you're walking yourself closer to an ass beating and a court-martial." Capt. Hanson said, but he felt like he was sitting at a poker game with a card shark. The grin stayed on James' face. "All I have to do is walk out of this office to the medical clinic, and tell the gossip hounds at the front desk that I caught you two having sex." The color drained from both officers. "It doesn't matter at all if it's true or not. You both know what that will do to your careers." "But ..." Lt. Kline stammered. "Why would you ..." "Because I want something." James said. "Something simple and painless, I assure you." Capt. Hanson's mind whirled. He knew James was right. If the sailor were a shit-bag that nobody liked then it might not hurt them too bad. But he was an incredible asset to the battalion and the marines he took care of. His word was gospel. "What do you want?" Hanson choked out, and glared at James. "Finally, the million dollar question." James' face went expressionless. "All I want is to see you and Lt. Kline, kiss." Kline hadn't been shocked so many times in one day ever since he could remember. "Kiss?" He looked incredulously at his Captain then back to James. "Why?" "I'm queer. I like that kind of thing." James eyed the men, waiting to see if they were going to fight him on this, or comply. Captain Hanson was steadying himself with the back of his chair. "No." Hanson shook his head. "I can't do that." "Oh, you can." James leaned back against the door. "I'll make sure no one comes in, and the blinds are closed." Kline recovered some cognitive function. "That's all? Nothing more? Just a kiss and you'll leave us alone?" "Yes sir." Hanson looked back at Kline with a pained expression. Kline shrugged. "He's gone in two months, sir. We can find a way out of this in the meantime if he tries to get us to do anything more." Hanson looked back at James and grimaced in ill humor. "Fuck you Crawford." James grinned. "No thank you sir. All I asked for was a kiss." Hanson bridled and turned to his Lt. "You want to do this?" "No." Kline glanced at James. "We don't really have much choice, do we?" Hanson could see no way out. He also didn't see a reason for James to stick to his promise either. `I'll find a way to expose him as a fag to the battalion, and that'll discredit him.' He thought. `In the meantime guess I'm kissing Kline.' Bitterly unhappy, Hanson motioned Kline to come to him. The apprehensive expression on the big man's face as he approached would have been comical if the same hadn't been etched on his own. "Put your arm around his waist." Jason's eyes were wide open and his dick was so hard it hurt. "Pull him in close to you, shut your eyes and kiss him. REALLY kiss him." "All right, damn it!" Hanson growled. He put his hand on the small of Kline's back and slowly pulled his unwilling Lt. to him until their hips and chests touched. "Just do it and get it done." The Lt. breathed. Hanson had never seen the man so pale before. "Here we go." Hanson reached up and pulled Kline's head down to his own. He closed his eyes and gently touched his lips to Kline's. A sharp click snapped across the room, and a bright light flashed. They pulled apart to see the sailor stuffing a digital camera into his pocket. "Both of you will be at my apartment this weekend, Saturday at 1000, sharp." He opened the door as the stunned men looked on. "If either of you isn't there, this picture gets emailed to the general himself." He exited the room, shut the door quickly and strode away through the warehouse. Hanson glared at the door, picked up the bogus requisition, and flung it at the garbage. "FUCK!"