Date: Wed, 24 May 2023 03:33:22 +0000 (UTC) From: Hunter Green Subject: Chuck McGraw Chapter 30 The continuing tale of Chuck McGraw, a big-dicked, bad ass mother fucker. Father. Soldier. Bodybuilder. Pervert. Please support Nifty Financially. Where would we be without all this spank bank material? I really appreciate all the messages and feedback guys. Seriously if my stories get your dick hard drop me a note at huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com Chapter 30 2012 Misconduct Fort Bragg, NC "What the FUCK do you want?" SGM hollered through his office door. He wasn't usually one to lose his temper. His style of leadership relied more on intimidation and admiration from his troops. Most of them were either scared of his very presence or worshiped him like a god. But he was just a few days away from competing in a Masters bodybuilding competition and the cutting of food and dehydration was making him cranky and quick to anger. "Sergeant Major McGraw," called the timid voice of the SSG Reynolds through the frosted glass door, "I just wanted to remind you about the meeting with the First Sergeants and Company Commanders in 15 minutes." "I fucking know! I'll be there!" He yelled back. "Roger, Sergeant Major!" Reynolds acknowledged and retreated. "Well, you fuckin' heard him. Hurry the fuck up and get me off!" He lowered his volume so Reynolds wouldn't hear him. Kneeling on the floor of his office was SFC Litchfield. The other man was reluctantly sucking the superior NCO's cock. McGraw had caught Litchfield the week before fucking the Colonel's underage daughter behind the post bowling alley. The sixteen old girl was drunk and wasn't in any state to consent. Chuck had gone out back with a young PFC so he could get his own cock sucked, but he knew an opportunity when he saw it. Litchfield was too involved in fucking the girl and trying to keep her quiet to notice the other men. So, McGraw pulled out his phone, took a few pictures and then a short video, before taking the PFC back to his truck to tend to his own business. He'd never like Litchfield. He was an outright asshole and a bad leader. He also like to pull attitude with McGraw. He knew the guy liked the younger girls who didn't know better and had bragged about fucking teenagers the all the time. And he knew that Litchfield didn't like him. The man lied about other soldiers and looked for reasons to get them in trouble, and his corrective actions with junior soldiers and NCOs usually went beyond what was necessary and into cruel. McGraw saw this as a chance to knock him down a few pegs. So that morning he'd had Litchfield meet him in his office and he confronted him with the evidence. Litchfield tried to deny it but couldn't when he saw the video of the clearly drunk teenager. McGraw had even caught a bit where she was trying to push him off, saying "no" over and over again. Then he gave the man a few options: to confess everything to Colonel and his own wife, or to submit to whatever McGraw wanted. Clearly the man submitted rather than face rape charges, prison and divorce, and from here on out would be McGraw's personal bitch boy. This was just his first lesson. "You better learn real-fucking-quick how to suck my cock, because you're doing a shitty fucking job of it so far." McGraw growled. Litchfield choked and gagged on the thick ten-inch prick filling his mouth. "You haven't even taken half of it yet. Fuckin' take it like a goddamn man!" Litchfield, his eyes watering, tried again. "I'm getting off in one hole or the other. Today you get to choose which." Litchfield, terrified of being fucked in the ass, attacked his task with more gusto, stroking the slick cock with his hand. "That's it, Sarge. Jerk me off. You're gonna taste my cum today and you'd better not spill a single fucking drop. Stroke me. Harder. Faster, you little fucking bitch. Pound it! Hurry up!" On the wall by the door was mounted a large mirror. Most military offices had one so that Soldiers could check that their uniforms were correct before leaving their office. But McGraw had put in one larger than normal. He'd been using it for posing practice before his competition. He was also a narcissist. He loved his body and how he'd built it up over that last 25 years. He was shirtless, tanned, and more muscular than most men would ever see in real life. At 43-years-old and six-foot-four inches tall, he was hovering right around 245 lbs of rock-solid muscle. He'd cut most of the soft tissue from his body with his diet. His arms were 22.5 inches flexed; his skin so thin you could see individual muscle fibers in their definition. His chest was 58 inches, hanging over his six pack like a shelf. Where usually he had a thick pelt of chest and body hair, he had started shaving it in preparation for his show a few weeks ago. His waist was trimmed down to 33 inches. His uniform trousers were failing to hide his sweeping 31-inch quads. Most of his body was covered in black and grey tattoo work, but it did nothing to detract from his muscularity. Veins had sprouted on his skin, looking like a road map. He admired his reflection, flexing his chest and arms in the mirror, letting his hands run over his own hard torso. He was hot as fuck, and nothing turned him on more than himself. McGraw looked down past his abs at his ten-inch uncut cock. One singular fat vein ran down his lower abs and down the length of his prick, disappearing into the mouth of the straight, pathetic soldier sucking on the end of it. He let the man work another minute or so before he allowed his orgasm to surface. He was enjoying the man's humiliation, but his technique left a lot to be desired. And his time was running short. "Drop your fucking hands to Parade Rest, dipshit!" He ordered. Litchfield did, and McGraw placed one hand on the man's shaved head, holding him in place, and used his other to finish himself off. "Open your goddamn mouth!" McGraw ground his teeth as he exploded. Most of his jizz made it into Litchfield's mouth, but not all of it. McGraw came buckets of cum, powerful bursts, and with one he painted a line right across Litchfield's face, getting it on his ear, nose and even some in his eye. That made McGraw laugh. "Swallow." McGraw ordered, smugly, and SFC Litchfield obeyed. He belonged to SGM McGraw now. There was no doubt. When he'd opened his mouth to show the SGM that he'd swallowed his load, McGraw used his slimy cock to scoop up the cum on the man's face and feed it to him. Then he had him clean the cum off his hands, licking carefully, sucking on each finger and lapping at the load on his knuckles. McGraw took one step back. "Position of AttentionÉMOVE!" He ordered. By instinct the other man jumped to his feet. Back straight, shoulders back, feet at a 45-degree angle, fists at his side. He still squinted as the cum stung one of his eyes, and tears stained his face. McGraw stepped forward and leaned over the shorter man until their noses were practically touching. Then he abruptly reached out and grabbed Litchfield by his cock and balls through his uniform. The man almost yelp, but struggled to hold his composure. "Look at that. As hard as any faggot that I've let suck my cock. I think you liked it." Litchfield was too scared to disagree. He only whimpered. McGraw let him go. "Now get the fuck out of my office. Dismissed." Litchfield turned and practically bolted for the door, wiping his face with the sleeve of his uniform. "But this isn't over, Sergeant. Not by a long shot. Your ass belongs to me now." McGraw left him with those parting words as he stuffed his still-hard cock back into his uniform trousers. He put on his t-shirt and uniform blouse, refilled his coffee mug and headed out to his meeting. SSG Reynolds was waiting out in the hallway for the SGM. He had a folder in his hand. "What's this?" SGM McGraw asked him. "It's for the meeting today. The first thing the commanders wants to discuss the uptick in sexual misconduct among the troops in the brigade. I've of the list of allegations and troublemakers here for you." "Sounds good." McGraw said, and the two soldiers headed into the conference room. More to cum. Feedback welcomed at huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com