Date: Sun, 24 Apr 2022 17:58:53 -0400 From: Michael Wisser Subject: Barracks Bitch Chapter 8 Readers: If you like this story, please send a donate to Nifty so that this site can continue to operate and bring you content you enjoy. using link https://donate.nifty.org/ ASSMUNCH *********************** The truth was, I wasn't jonesing to fuck Sleeper, even if he had the most perfect dumper I'd ever seen. Yeah, it was fun tongue raping him, he tasted great, and his pale skin heightened the allure. The turn on for me was how responsive and receptive he was when my face was buried in his shitcave. Hearing him moan. Seeing him grab his glutes to pull them apart to get me deeper. Watching him spread his legs like a party slut. He was such a tough, masculine, overly confident grunt that his willingness to have his private, secret tunnel invaded and filled with my saliva became erotic. He truly WANTED me up there, needed it so bad it made me hard and dripping. Getting him to beg for it flipped my dick switch. But before tonight I had no desire to bury my bone in his doghouse. Fucking dudes just wasn't a sexual goal. I mean, of course I COULD. But that wasn't anything I was after. But I was also not in the habit of fooling myself. It felt good, real good, to force my thick cock up his shitter, knowing no one else had opportunity or liberty to plunder him. So what if I tricked him? I knew my best friend intimately, knew that deep down he had accepted that his smooth pretty butthole became mine from the first moment he felt my mouth muscles manipulate his chute. I saw it in the way he took frequent opportunity to press his ass against me when he passed in a doorway. "Sorry bro, coming through". How instead of kneeling down to grab something off the floor, his rack, a chair, that when I was within ten feet of him he moved to point his rear towards me to bend over casually. No, he didn't do it like a stripper, it would have been out of character for Sleeper to make a display of it. Sleeper didn't display, he didn't preen or strut. But he did make the effort to perform a presentation, as if sharing a private joke with me. The daring was part of it. He thought he was driving me crazy with temptation. He wasn't. I thought it was amusing, him playing his little game thinking he had something I couldn't wait to get my hands on, when all I was thinking was how important my tongue must be to him to get him to try to seduce me. Every time he did his little tricks it was apparent that it was HIM thinking about ME. He yawned a lot, stretching his arms up, clenching the mounds of his ass. He already walked with his huge shoulders thrust back, which he knew forced his lower back in and had his glutes jutting out like a shelf. He laid in his rack naked, on top of his blanket, and I'd see his eye rotate to see if I was looking before giving his ass a wiggle. Yeah, my dude loved what I did to him and wanted to make sure I didn't lose interest. He used his muscle ass as a commodity. THAT was what turned me on. And maybe he was getting to me, too. I shouldn't be noticing that he did all that for my benefit. Still, recognizing what was going on didn't mean my leash was relaxed. I wasn't letting that happen again. For now, we were engaged in a straightforward transaction. I left Sleeper to clean himself up. I took a much needed piss before going back to my rack. I noticed Zeus and Wanker weren't back yet. I wasn't surprised. Sleeper had taken just 25 minutes to get sorted. Zeus was probably still fucking Wanker. Or at least I hoped he was. I fell asleep hoping Sleeper wasn't going to want me to fuck him every time we had our fun. That's not where I wanted this to go. Of course I should have known better. ************************ Fucking bloody rotten hell, we were back out for training with the rest of our company. Sarge blasted his air horn at oh four thirty, just five hours after most of us got to bed. I wouldn't put it past him to have known we'd stayed up to party, and he'd led us to believe we might not be going back out. At least the asshole could have waited until Monday. The only blessing was the rain had stopped, but it was far colder now. There was no time to ask Wanker or Zeus how it went, but I did notice Wanker had lost that defeated, morose attitude. Good, even if his rape-ravaged shitter wasn't quite back to normal at least his head was screwed on straight. Zeus was unreadable. His every look and move precise, focused and dedicated to the easy perfection that came naturally to him. He didn't even appear to take notice when Wanker shot frequent smiles his way as they put up the TEMPER we'd be bunking in. Our squad consisted of myself, Sleeper, Zeus, Puta, Troll, Demon, Wanker, and Bootlicker. Footlong, Cellblock, Dimples, Junior, Holler, C-Wrecker (Cuntwrecker when it was just us), Nuts, and Dumbo (his fuckin'ears, holy shit) made up the ambitiously named Big Dick squad, almost all of them with cocks that hung at least four inches soft. Assholes. The rest filled out the last two squads of our platoon. All good men. No slackers. No one complained that we'd just be tearing it down six days from now to pack camp back up. We were at a point we could set up our encampment with our eyes closed. Necessary training even though if it ever came to it we wouldn't actually be the ones doing this. All this shit would be set up for us ahead of time by Support because it was considered a semi-permanent encampment. Outside of permanent or semi-permanent all we'd have would be personal equipment we carried on our backs if we were lucky. That would be a luxury most of the time because if you were out on a mission it was easier to stay hidden by holing up in the natural terrain or surroundings. But we were grateful we wouldn't be sleeping out in the elements this week. We didn't have showers, if you wanted a wash up you dipped a bucket in a fifty gallon drum. So we mostly skipped that, not minding our own stink and filth. It was probably Sergeant Charlie's idea that our location was one that was formerly occupied by one of the other platoons, my guess was Charlie's because their current position seemed suspiciously dry and undisturbed. So the ground was torn up and still muddy where we were told to set up. Thanks Wanker. Still worth it though as I took every opportunity to throw a sneering grin at whatever shaved Charlie I saw. I also made sure to tell the brothers if they saw a Charlie to remove their cover and rub a hand through their hair. It's the little things in life that bring you joy. ******************** None of us were proud of the last week. The sergeants seemed to want to punish everyone. Spot drills, brutal full equipment marches during the day, redirects and backtracks, target locations (if we could even reach them) without the promised packages, returning to camp hours after dark to find our TEMPERs trashed, all of them. Cold MRE's, which weren't great when hot, and barely edible almost frozen. Some of us started putting ours in the waistband of our underwear to keep them thawed at body temperature. No heat, no fire. Mostly though we barely had the energy to taste the food, pretty much just swallowing it after a couple chews. Impossible missions, frustrating goalpost moving, forcing choices between saving a brother or completing the mission, do you leave them behind, equipment turning up missing or ruined, surprise attacks two hours after we'd collapse. You name a dirty trick, that's what we endured. No-win scenarios, impossible targets, unachievable objectives. All. Fucking. Week. We failed damn near every mission, and no matter how much we tried to figure out what we did wrong, the only conclusion we could reach was that we weren't SUPPOSED to succeed. Our morale flagged, everyone was pissy and whining like a bitch, except for Bootlicker and Wanker, who never gave up trying to make us smile or figure out a way we could beat the Sergeants at their own game. And of course not Zeus. Everyone except those three got into heated arguments, hurling insults and low blows, even Puta and Troll getting into a shoving match. Fat lot of good that did Puta, trying to push Troll around. I tried to stay out of it for the most part. I know my tone and attitude wasn't the best, and I should have soothed my brothers like I knew I could. But I chose to let them get it out of their system, they needed to release the frustration. If they couldn't do that with each other and then let it go, we weren't going to be a successful squad. I waited until both the physical and verbal bullshit faded into exhaustion. "I'm guessing no one thinks we got anything out of the last two weeks, right?" I threw out. I got a resounding `FUCK NO!' "Well I think we should. Here's the plan." And I started laying out the beginning of the diabolical fantasy I'd been putting together over the last three days of torture, more as a way to distract myself from our failures. But after seeing what had been done to us, how it had brought us down, I determined we needed something to get our mojo back. It had to happen tonight, before we broke camp tomorrow and headed back. The squad split up. Twenty minutes later, crowded into my TEMPER was every squad leader of the whole company. To unanimous agreement we all felt the complete suck of our training, and every one of them realized we'd been set up to fail. We weren't stupid, we knew it was supposed to teach us something, probably some bullshit about how to handle failure, build comradery, never let our guard down, missions weren't always easy or guaranteed to succeed, and about ten other stupid lessons. But enough was enough. They'd gone too far. I gave them their very simple orders - capture every Sergeant using whatever non-violent technique they could come up with. Use deceit, subterfuge, watch for a weak moment, capture and hold. They were to be stripped to their underwear, tied up and staked in the field beside the camp. They were to delegate two members of their squad to remove all of the Sergeants' gear and personal equipment from their quarters. I told them it was going to be a long night, that we could trade off sleep, but that camp would be broken by dawn. I was still fleshing out what exactly we were going to do with the sergeants which was going to take careful planning because I didn't want anyone to cross the line into disrespect or assaulting a superior. I made that point VERY clear. Immobilize without harm. This was simple, clean payback, not vengeance. I told them zero hour was the deadline, but that no one was to get their target to the field before 23:45, unless all targets had been neutralized before then. Everyone was to report to me by messenger when their targets were captured. I pulled Charlie's squad leaders aside, had Wanker apologize and apologized myself. I told them we'd serve a punishment of their choice. They seemed surprised. I gave them a few minutes to talk it over and they were far more gracious than I gave them credit for. Decent brothers, who weren't afraid to admit the humor in what Wanker had done. "Shave your heads, and keep them shaved for a month. Just your squad, not all the Bravos. Do that, and we'll call you Brother again." I didn't have to think about it. "Done." I said immediately. "Thanks for being a brother about it. We're wearing war paint tonight. I'd like it if the Charlies did too." They actually shook my hand. I asked them if they could handle Horvath, which they were uncertain about. I told them Zeus, Sleeper and Troll would make quick work of that beast. I'd already decided Zeus and Troll were going to take out Sarge. The other Sarges wouldn't be a problem. Not everyone was a muscle bound brute in a uniform. ******************** I had to say I was impressed. At 22:36, all targets were enjoying the chilly hospitality of my field of prisoners. I had a nice fire burning, didn't want our precious sergeants getting hypothermia. I noticed most had anger in their eyes. I sat comfortably on an equipment case facing the semicircle of my prisoners. My Sarge and Horvath seemed amused. "Mmmmmph, mmgh fuh muh dnnneh u" Sarge mumbled conversationally from behind his gag. I cocked my head. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do with you yet, but there's no rush. We have all night." I was trying to heat up my `beef stew' MRE entree over the fire without cooking it to death. Entree. Yeah right. Fancy name for dogshit. "Nrr gnng u eh eeoreh". He pointed out with a shrug. "Maybe." I shrugged back. I didn't think this would go as far as an official report. "I was kinda hoping maybe you'd be impressed. I planned all this just four hours ago." I explained, gesturing vaguely to them and the air with my survival weapon. "Seems the entire company was fed up with being losers. Something we all figured out you Sergeants deliberately organized." "Uh or ee id! Ah aheh ee oheree, oher." I gauged his eyes, which held a challenge. I flicked to Horvath. He was calm and unruffled. He was curious to see how this would play out. I returned to Sarge with a lazy grin. "You are my prisoner Sarge. While I retain my deep respect for you, and everyone here, that we speak at all is on my terms. You have allowed yourselves to be captured by Army Privates. Honestly, whether I address you properly doesn't seem to be something you should have at the top of your list. You really should be focused on one thing - escape. I bet each of you is going over the skills list of the soldiers that secured your hands and feet. I see Sergeant Alpha over there has a soldier who loves his knots. Don't count on Alpha there getting loose first." I laughed. I started eating my stew with my knife, never letting my eyes off of my prisoners. In between bites, I told them about their soldiers. I explained how we figured out the potential lessons we thought we were supposed to learn. "Yeah, the training sucked. Me and a few others figured out pretty quick we weren't intended to succeed at our missions, and if it looked like we just might in spite of the dirty tricks you fuckers threw at us, you then crippled us somehow or moved the goal posts. If we gave up trying because we weren't going to succeed, you punished us." I took another bite, chewed slowly. "I gave them until zero hour to get all of you tied up. They accomplished the mission way earlier. Guess they were really pissed." "You know this shit doesn't taste anything like beef stew, right? Do you think it's even real beef in there?" I looked up, and signaled with my knife. "You wanted to see how we dealt with failure as a unit? Behold the fruits of your labor." The other squad leaders came over, each bringing an equipment case to sit on. It was deliberate that the Sarges were sitting on the ground while we sat above them on crates. They all filed past me, giving me a fist bump. I handed Charlie's squad leader my knife. He pulled out some shaving cream. "Always count on your Sarge to be prepared, Bravo." He said. "Call me Assmunch, Brother. Yeah, Sarge likes to stay pretty for the Army. I like that about him, he sets an example for us to live up to." I replied. "Assmunch? You're going to have tell me about how that happened." I laughed. "You're going to love it." Horvath and Sarge were watching us closely. "You ready, Assmunch?" "Do it." And cold, frigid water was poured on my head. My grease paint stayed of course. I felt the shaving cream rubbing into my scalp. I never took my eyes off Sarge and Horvath. The Charlie began shaving my head with my knife. He was pretty good, being careful. It took a while, and probably looked horrible, but this was about a message. Then all the squad leaders came and rubbed my newly bald head, saying `thanks, Brother' even though we hadn't talked about that. Maybe that was Charlie's doing, I don't know. It felt good. Then they all left, except the Charlie. "Mind if I sit watch with you, Assmunch?" "I'd be honored, Charlie." He pulled his crate up beside mine. "Lamont." I glanced at him. Of course I knew that, it was on his uniform. "How about Bald Tire?" "And here I was just starting to like you, Assmunch." That made me laugh. "Yeah, besides, it doesn't suit you. It's better when your own men give you your nickname, anyway. It's not my privilege." We sat there, my Brother Lamont and I, talking quietly with each other, until we saw the eastern sky begin to glow. We'd taken turns getting more deadwood for the fire, making sure the Sergeants stayed warm. I told him the story of my nickname, which made him laugh so hard he fell off his crate. I left out the part about how much Sleeper enjoyed it. Bootlicker brought water for the Sergeants, and Lamont and I escorted away the three that needed to relieve themselves, none of them put up a fight. Thinking about it afterwards, I think none of them wanted to push things to a point where this turned from a prank into something actionable. They didn't want to put us in a position where an unforgivable mistake was made. Our Sergeants were amazing. Part of me wondered how much they had allowed this to happen to see where we'd take it. When the sun first peeked over the horizon, I cut the Sergeants loose, starting with my Sarge and Horvath. Bootlicker wanted to involve peanut butter somehow, but I told him mistreatment of the prisoners wasn't going to happen. We all walked back to camp, or what remained of it. The company had done an excellent job of breaking down, making sure not to touch the Sergeants tents. The guys had also rigged up a camp shower, complete with heated water for the Sarges, if they wanted to have the luxury and relax their stiff muscles after the long cold night being tied up immobile. I was pleased most of them accepted the kind apologetic gesture. Each squad leader then played valet for their Sarge, drying them off, then holding their uniform for them to get dressed. When I saw someone had taken it upon themselves to ball up Sarge's uniform so it was a wrinkled mess, I nearly lost it on my squad. Looking at it, then the brothers, Demon had the decency to step forward. "Sorry Sarge. Sorry Assmunch. I got carried away." I put Sarge's uniform in Demon's hands. "Fix it." Was all I said. I turned to everyone else. "When the Sergeants are finished in their quarters, break em down and load em up. If you aren't involved in that, you have camp cleanup duty. I want this entire area looking like we were never here. No one has set foot here for a year, you got me?" I shouted. "YES PRIVATE BRAVO!" The entire company yelled back. What had they gotten out of this, besides extra work? Simple. They accomplished a mission, finally. And after the two weeks of hell we'd just been through, they got a night to relax without fear of what the Sergeants were going to do to them on their last, most exhausted night. The squad leaders should have rotated duty and sleep for everyone, as I instructed. And I know without my plan those asshole had something planned to spring on us last night. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and working together, even with a different platoon. In fact, there didn't seem to be the usual behavior of sticking to your squad or platoon. Everyone was helping out wherever they could lend a hand. I suspected they were eager to get back early to relax, finally, so the faster they got us packed up the sooner we could leave and get back to civilization. It was a relief that we were able to throw a wrench in the Sergeants' potentially cruel hazing. Sarge and Sergeant Charlie confirmed exactly that when I followed them to their tent. I was going to wait just outside, but they waved me in. "Think that was clever, Private?" Sarge asked. I didn't regret it, I did it for the Company. "The guys needed something, Sarge. We were at each other's throats. Maybe it wasn't the smartest plan, but I knew we couldn't come out of this without a victory of some kind. This was all I could come up with to get everyone back to thinking like we were all on the same team. And feeling like we were soldiers. Besides, Sergeants, you were going to kick us when we were down. I don't know what you had planned for last night, but we were done with the bullshit." "He's got a point, Walters." Horvath interjected. Sarge glared at me, but something told me his heart wasn't in it. "Too clever for your own good... Assmunch." And I knew the official part of the debrief was over. There might be further repercussions, but I could trust Sarge to be fair. And of course, an ass raping by Horvath wasn't anything I was worried about or fearing. If it happened, it happened. I could take the pain. I didn't think it would though. "Gonna have to report it to El Tee, you know that." "I know, Sarge. If it's not too much to ask, I'll take the hit. Leave my brothers out of it. It really was my plan." Horvath crossed his arms. "Oh, we got the message loud and clear they all were following you into this game. You want to know why we didn't give you a fight, after we were tied up in the field?" I scowled. "I'm getting the impression I missed something. I don't like it." Sarge smiled. Cocky fuck. "Relax, you couldn't know. But you'll know now. Hand signs. We ONLY decided to ride this out because you were the one in charge. You weren't going to do anything stupid or extreme, and you wouldn't be talked into crossing the line. Good move having your team take on Horvath. Those three were probably the only ones who Horvath respected enough not to break their legs, solid, steady men those three. Me, I could have resisted and gotten away any time I wanted. Half of us could have. Don't be so proud that you got us earlier than your deadline. It happened because we let it happen." I missed them communicating with each other, never saw a thing. Suddenly I realized how all of this could have gone so wrong. The whole company could have paid the price. I must have turned white as a sheet. "Too clever by half, I'd say. He just unraveled it." Sarge said to Horvath. Who grinned. Wait... wait one fucking minute. Oh hell no. I was being played, I was almost certain of it. Horvath's grin was too relieved. Like he WANTED me to buy it, hook line and sinker. And once I went where they lead me, far too self congratulatory. The nervous twitchy glance. There were no hand signs at the fire in the field, I never took my eyes off them. I didn't miss anything. The other Sergeants were really pissed, they didn't want to sit there in the dirt all night in front of this cocky Private. They were spread out, facing forward, it was dark, no head could turn to watch intricate signs being made behind anyone's back, especially with fire blindness. Okay, you fuckers, how do I play this? I kept my face schooled, not letting on I had figured out their game. Do I let them save face? Do I call them on their bullshit? I decided. I stepped back to the doorway and called out. "ZEUS!" And stepped back inside. "Just between us, Sergeants." I said. Zeus darted in seconds later. "Sergeant. Sergeant. Assmunch." He addressed us. "Zeus, did Sergeant Horvath put up a fight when you, Sleeper, and Troll captured him?" I asked, watching Sarge and Horvath closely. They both stared straight ahead, giving away nothing. Zeus grinned. "Oh yes he did. It was amazing." "And how did you incapacitate him?" I asked, smirking. "That will be all Private Gunnerson" Sarge interrupted. "Dismissed" "Yes Sergeant!" Zeus shot out the door behind us. "Fucker." Horvath grunted. "Just between us. Good try though, Sarge. I'm actually happy you tried. I feel even better now." I beamed. "Get out of my sight, Private." He growled. "Yes, Sergeant!" I bellowed. I turned on my heel and toe, proper as you please to leave. "Not a word, Assmunch." I whipped back around, attention. "Understood, Sergeant." I looked at Horvath who looked to be holding back a laugh. "Sergeant." I executed my about face once again, and left with a smile they couldn't see, even though they had to know I was grinning like a fool. I remembered where I was and immediately wiped it off my face. It wouldn't do if the brothers saw me leaving with a smile. That would send the wrong message. I almost ran into Demon coming the other way. Sarge's uniform looking neat, and even somewhat pressed. "Help him like you were his personal slave, Demon. You know Sarge likes to look pretty. And he's OUR Sarge. We want our Sarge to be the best, always. Apologize again." I felt a presence behind me. I looked to find Sarge and Horvath. "Pretty?" Sarge argued. "Yes Sergeant, the prettiest." I returned. "Why aren't YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT PRIVATE?" I double timed it out of there before I got myself in more trouble. ************************* SLEEPER AND ZEUS ************************* We were all taking it easy in the barracks, enjoying our Saturday after the long sleepless night before. Most of us had slept in the transport on the hour long drive back to post. Showered and naked, or in our underwear, we cleaned our area and bartered for someone to do our laundry tomorrow. Some of the guys were talking about tonight's party and picking a bitch to make the beer run to the PX. I stayed out of it. I was worrying about Andrew and if he was catching hell for our stunt yesterday. I was laying on my rack going through my training manual for the current section. Maps, plotting and navigation. "Sleeper, can I talk to you?" I heard Zeus' amazing deep voice behind me. "Sure Zeus." I froze for a moment when I looked at him. He looked good shaved clean like that. Very dangerous. Even more dangerous than with hair. I looked like a clown compared to him, and I was very easy on the eyes, I knew. "Uh, what's up?" Zeus sat down next to me. He was wearing Army sweatpants and a Tee shirt that barely fit his bulky chest and shoulders. I saw his eyes glance down at my naked white ass. Then they traveled up my defined muscular back. He took his time. I waited. Zeus could check me out all he wanted. It didn't feel dirty or gay the way he did it. It felt good that he was appreciative of the hard work I put into training my body. When a physical specimen at the peak of masculinity checks you out, it's definitely a compliment. I felt the same way when the jacked up guys at the gym gave me a once over. I don't think he even thought about being self conscious about staring at me, it was more like he had the right to inspect my nakedness at his discretion. It was hard to argue with that. "Do you think Andrew is in trouble?" he asked, when he was finished with his inspection. "Who knows, Zeus? It's hard to figure out the Sarge. He always seems mad. But I hope not." "Me too, Sleeper." Suddenly, Zeus' hand was on my back. I froze again. It wasn't a hesitant, tentative touch. It assumed ownership, no permission necessary. He began moving it over my muscles, massaging, examining. "Uh, Zeus..." I stuttered. If anyone else tried that I would knock them to the ground. "Your skin is so pale." Zeus observed. "It's nice." Holy fuck - was this happening? "Uh....thanks?" He stopped moving his hand, right above my ass. I felt my face flush, but I still didn't move. His hand felt good, but I was also weirded out. "Is this bothering you?" He asked casually, no different than the way someone would ask what kind of juice I liked with breakfast. Like he didn't see this as anything strange. "Uh, a little, yeah." I managed to get out. I hated myself for liking his attention, and hated that I couldn't let him touch me like this at the same time. "Zeus, you can't do this. Especially not here." Out in the open where everyone could see. Fuck, Zeus finally comes out of his shell and this is what he does? I was afraid to move, I felt cornered. The worst part of it was that I knew if he went further I wouldn't or couldn't stop him, and I hated the feeling of being powerless. I was a man, but a real man wouldn't let this happen. I closed my eyes. My mind was scattered, racing in five different directions. Why wasn't Andrew here, he'd know how to handle this. Was Zeus really coming onto me or was this just innocent misguided male appreciation? Were any of the brothers watching? I should have worn underwear or shorts, something as a barrier to being felt up. I liked Zeus, worshipped him actually, how could he make me feel this way? I felt like crying. But the absolute worst part was feeling my dick getting hard, the way my body liked his touch while my brain screamed no. I felt myself begin to panic. "Yeah, hold him down Zeus, I got next!" I heard Troll say from the other side. Then the cot moved and Troll threw his weight on top of me. I felt Troll's fully clothed body smother me. Zeus' hand was gone, and I was instantly relieved. Troll started dry humping my ass, grunting in fake ecstasy. "Oh yeah, so tight bro!" "You think that shit's free, Troll?" I found my voice. "You can't afford my fine ass. You got five seconds to get off me!" I growled. Troll pinned my shoulders, thrusting harder. "I only need three. I'm gonna nut, bro! Ahhhhh, here it comes!" And he had a WAY over-acted fake orgasm, bouncing me violently against the mattress. He climbed off and smacked my ass. "Best piece of ass I've ever had. Hope you're on the pill, I'm too young to be a dad." Seeing my out, I leapt up and started chasing him. Zeus was watching, still sitting on my rack. "Get him, Zeus!" I yelled. "Hold him down for me!" Zeus was fast. Troll was scooped up and thrown over Zeus' shoulder in no time. Troll was beating his fists against Zeus' back, but it looked like he was trying to punch an oak tree. It was funny how Troll had no defense against Zeus. Zeus just picked him up like a bag of dog food. "Where do you want him, Sleeper?" "Throw him on that bunk. Pin him, and hold his arms. It's payback time." "No! Sleeper! C'mon bro." Troll pleaded. Zeus was sitting on top of his hips, holding his wrists to the bed. "Not so tough anymore, huh?" I teased. I was taking my time walking over. I exaggerated the swing of my hips, making my cock and balls sway left and right as my thick muscular thighs punched them outward with every step. I loved the way my dick flopped like that. "You gonna take your punishment like a man, or like a little bitch?" Zeus was fixated on me. Ah well, even though encouraging him wasn't smart, I had to show him that playful contact was the way we did things. "You wanna fuck around? Zeus here is my protector, right Zeus?" Zeus nodded. "Right Sleeper!" I stood on the bunk over Troll's head. "Sleeper! I take it back! Don't do it!" Troll begged. I looked at Zeus, who couldn't take his eyes off my junk just a foot away from his face. Yeah, Assmunch and I would have to have a talk about Zeus. "What do you think, Zeus?" I asked. "Should I forgive him?" "Tell him to forgive me!" Troll commanded. He may as well have been talking to a wall. Zeus surprised me. "He should have treated you like a gentleman, Sleeper. He needs to pay for what he did." With the most absolute sincerity that I think I've ever heard. A warm feeling coursed through me with the words. And relief. Zeus would never force himself on me. It was obvious he didn't have a lot of experience interacting with people in general, or us. And I realized then Zeus had stopped and asked if he was bothering me because he cared about how I felt. And with that thought, the feeling of being dirty, the fear of being cornered, the nausea over being touched intimately by another dude... it all faded away. "Did you hear that, Troll? I'm a gentleman. You buy me dinner first." And I smiled at Zeus, who smiled back with every fiber of his happy heart. And then I crushed my junk and ass into Troll's ugly face, swirling my hips around, while I counted to ten. This fucker was going to get dickwiped. When I was done, I stepped off. "Thanks for your help, Zeus. You can let him up." "Ugh, disgusting pervert!" Troll spat. I busted out laughing when Zeus gave Troll a playful slap, saying "That's Sir Pervert, to you, Troll. I think it's your turn to be party grunt tonight." I'd never seen this side of Zeus. He actually did know how to have fun. He caught on fast and including him was the right way to go. And `party grunt' was his attempt to avoid saying `bitch' because Zeus did not cuss but he obviously saw the value in the term, or at least our intent in using it. Today was full of surprises. "What? That's not fair!" Troll scowled as he got up. "You think anyone is going to argue with Zeus?" I grinned back at him. I was back in a great mood. "Fuck you!" Troll snarled. Then he remembered who he was talking to. "Not you, Zeus. I meant Sleeper." Zeus reached out to grab Troll's neck, an angry look on his face. Before he could get Troll's thick neck in his giant paw, I put my hand on Zeus' arm. "Relax, Zeus, he's playing." Zeus backed down, but his eyes were VERY displeased. "He shouldn't say bad words at you Sleeper." Oh God, what I have I done? "Troll is our brother. Brothers fight. It doesn't mean we don't love each other. Right Troll?" "Right, Sleeper. I love you, brother. Even though my face smells like your dick now." And Troll gave me a hug. "Still sucks I gotta be Bitch though." Zeus appeared to calm down. But he crossed his huge arms and looked down at us. "Well he better not say bad words at me. I don't like them." He looked like fuckin' Mr. Clean in that pose, with that glare. "We'll make sure everyone knows, Zeus. But I'm okay if they say them to me, alright." I explained. How come it felt like I was talking to my kid brother in middle school, instead of a 19 year old giant God? I was so confused... put Zeus in any training module and you couldn't touch him, he seemed like he was ten years older than the rest of us in confidence, bravado, ability, and expression. But outside of training, he seemed like a kid. A dangerous giant jacked up bull of a kid, but still a kid. Zeus shrugged. "If that's what you want, Sleeper." I felt lucky the guy had a thing for me. I wouldn't want to be in Troll's shoes. Then we spread the word that Zeus decreed that Troll was our Bitch tonight, and Troll headed out to the PX for tonight's snacks and alcohol, grumbling the whole time. He shut up though, every time Zeus gave him a look. Being overseas in a foreign country, on a relatively small training base like ours meant no vehicle transportation, and limited to non-existent opportunities to go off post. Those of us here for AIT were kept pretty locked down, which sucked. It was smart, though, from the Army's point of view. 19 year old American military boys who were pent up and frustrated would be hell on the closest towns and city, even if we had a way to get there. We envied the Specialists, Sergeants and Senior NCO's for their freedom. Newly minted PFC's like us were still kept virtual prisoners. That was the deception of the military. In basic, as a green recruit, or Cherry as we'd been called, we lived for the day we'd be out of Basic and become real soldiers. Only to find out we were limited in freedom and movement as Private Second Class E-2s which didn't happen fast enough after Basic. Ironic, wasn't it, that we were told we were fighting for freedom while giving up our own? You went nowhere without time in grade or time in service. So we all looked forward to Specialist which meant we were through with training and bullshit and could call ourselves true soldiers. I couldn't wait to never be called Private again. (Hah! Through with training... not in the Army) You starting to get the gist of it? Every promotion felt like you'd be better off, right up until you reached it and realized it was not much better than lower rank in any meaningful way, and wanted the next rank which seemed so much more free and worthy. That was deliberate. The Army knew how to keep the mule plodding forward. Hell, we didn't even rate dorm style housing quarters with our own room with a door on this crappy post, like other bases had. Gotta love the Infantry. But I thought it was cool that we were a NATO training base, which meant we did get some interaction with allied forces. Not much, but guest instructors and the occasional junior soldier appeared for some sections of our training. For some of us, it was a wake up call that the world was bigger than we thought, and other countries had proud, dedicated soldiers just like we did. I needed Assmunch to get back. We needed to talk about a couple things. Where the fuck was he? The longer he was gone, the more I worried we had fucked up. ASSMUNCH ****************** "Why is it always you Bravos?" The Lt. complained. I started to answer, opening my mouth. "That was rhetorical, Private." Sarge growled from behind me. I didn't think it was. Private Lamont was standing at attention next to me. By his very presence, `always' was incorrect. But okay. If the Lt didn't know Lamont was a Charlie it wasn't my place to point that out. Lt. FUHA, paced behind his desk. I was relieved that my first act when I got back was to shave my head properly. It wouldn't do to be called in front of the Lt out of grooming discipline. We all took turns shaving each other's skulls, all of us naked except for Zeus. Demon complained, but did it anyway. It was the terms of our surrender. They understood. Impossibly, Zeus looked even more deadly and serious, like some villain from a comic book. "Were operations disrupted?" El Tee asked. "No sir. Maneuvers and training were concluded. Camp function did not deteriorate. Order was maintained surprisingly well considering it was run by a group of barely adult idiots, sir." Sergeant Horvath reported. Kiss my ass, Sergeant Charlie. Kiss my tight white ass. "We're any regulations broken?" "Several, sir." "Any that can't be overlooked?" "None, sir." "Did anyone disobey orders?" "No orders were given, Sir" El Tee looked at me and Lamont. "Do you know what it's called when soldiers revolt?" I swallowed. Lamont answered. "Mutiny, sir." I didn't think this truly classified as a revolt. But technically, I guess it did. "And what's the punishment for mutiny, Private?" He looked at Lamont. "Court Martial, sir. Dishonorable discharge. Or worse, Imprisonment or Death." I was starting to sweat. Lamont , from the corner of my eye, appeared relaxed and unworried. The Lieutenant came around his desk to look me in the eye. He didn't miss my freshly shaved head. A momentary grin appeared, and was squashed. What did Wanker call it? The return of Officer Tired of My Bullshit? That probably wasn't fair. Just by the questions he was asking I sensed Lt. Jones was a decent guy. He could easily have hung us by a rope. "Been a while since death was sentenced, did you know that?" The Lieutenant mused. "Rhetorical " I heard Sarge whisper. Lamont and I didn't move a muscle. "You held U.S. Army Sergeants prisoner? Restrained? All night? Were you ordered to release them?" The Lieutenant asked. "The Sergeants were gagged, Sir. They could not give an order." I offered. He rubbed his eyes. "And gagged. I'm getting a headache. I'm just going to start calling my headaches `Bravo' from now on." The El Tee went back around his desk to sit down. He put both hands palm down on his desk. "Sergeant Horvath, you and your soldier are dismissed." "Yes, Sir. With me, Private." Horvath barked. After they left, the Lieutenant stared at me for a few minutes. I kept my eyes on the wall ahead of me, perfect still. "Are you going career, Private?" He asked out of the blue. I stiffened up, putting Attention to my attention. "If the Army will have me, Sir. My Father is career. I've always wanted to be Army, like him, Sir." "The Army doesn't hand out step increases or rank like candy, Private. You have to stay on top, constantly test in the highest percentile, move up before time runs out on your enlistment. Have you thought about going for a commission? Being an officer?" I shook my head. "Sir, NCO is good enough for me Sir. Wanted to go for Ranger School, Sir." "You can still be a Ranger as an officer." "Yes, sir." "Your ASVAB scores tell me you're a good candidate, your AIT evaluations so far are exemplary. Except for this little adventure, Sergeant Walters tells me you are an exceptional soldier, and I'm still trying to figure out if the way you ran this mutinous operation outweighs the stupidity of it. You gained the trust of your men, even the Charlies which I wouldn't have bet money on, and they followed you in spite of Private Lamont knowing full well what doing so meant." He explained. Ahhhhhh, so that was why Sergeant Horvath and Lamont were here. The Lieutenant continued. "Alpha, Charlie and Delta Sergeants reported they were treated very well, and you and Lamont had your soldiers operating like a fine tuned, efficient machine. The Army knows it's difficult to teach that kind of leadership. I'm ordering you to keep your nose clean while finishing AIT, no more stunts like this. And keep your squad in line, as well as the Bravos. Am I clear?" "Sir, yes Sir!" I knew he was talking about reining in Wanker and Bootlicker, the pranksters. Wanker wouldn't be a problem, Horvath had put the fear of horsecock in him. Bootlicker was going to be a little work, but he wasn't an actor so much as an instigator. Bootlicker let others do his dirty work. "Dismissed." "Yes Sir! Private, fall out." Sarge answered. I saluted the Lieutenant. Turned and left through the door, Sarge following. I decided right then I would stop thinking of or referring to the Lieutenant as Lt. FUHA. He wasn't the kind of officer my father hated. "Eyes forward, Private. My office." We reached the Sergeants area at the end of the hall, and I turned right. We passed by each office, but I didn't dare look anywhere but in front. "You want to do this in mine?" I heard Sarge say to someone behind me. I continued to Sarge's doorway, went in. I stood in front of his desk at attention. If this was an ass raping, I truly deserved it. He was probably talking to Sergeant Horvath. Sarge's office was just like him - neat, organized, without a lot of decoration or unnecessary clutter. Files were stacked corner to corner in a precise pile, the papers inside them also perfectly lined up. Sure enough Horvath walked in with Sarge. "Close the door, Private." I turned to see Lamont, which was a surprise. Lamont closed the door. I turned back around and came to attention again. Lamont stood at attention beside me. Sarge sighed. "At ease, grunts." Now he started rubbing his eyes. Horvath just stood there, a bemused look graced his swarthy face. "Alright, I'm almost certain Assmunch here could read what just happened. So Private Lamont, why don't you amaze us with your staggering intellect." Sarge said. I hadn't read shit, just the fact I almost lead my entire Company who trusted me into committing the second worst crime you could commit in the military. Treason was, of course, first. "Yes Sergeant. The Lieutenant is not in my chain of command, nor Sergeant Horvath's. My Lieutenant was not present. The other squad leaders were not present, nor were any of the other sergeants or Lieutenants." "So that tells you what?" Horvath spoke up. "This wasn't going to be a general disciplinary action. Nor was it going to be official." Lamont replied. Sarge had given me too much credit. I figured out none of that. And who the fuck was Lamont, throwing out `nor' into sentences like he was reading a fancy book? Who does that? "And how do you know there won't be official disciplinary action in the future?" Lamont shrugged. "I guess there could be Sergeant, but Harris and I were brought in together, with our Sergeants. That's not usually how general disciplinary action goes." Horvath chuckled. "Yeah you'd know about that, wouldn't you?" Lamont blushed. Oh, we got a bad boy. I took a second look at Lamont. "Harris, care to chime in?" How far did I dare to take this? I decided this wasn't the time for verbal games. "I got lucky, Sarge. We all got lucky, but I doubt that if this all went south you would have hung everyone up. I admitted I planned it all, convinced the entire company through the squad leaders to follow me. I should have seen the bigger picture." Horvath and Sarge shared a look. "Where's that cocky Private eating his MRE with a knife who lectured me about being a prisoner? I liked that guy." "Standing here ashamed, Sarge. The Lieutenant was right, what we did was technically mutiny." Horvath stepped forward. "It was also technically NOT mutiny. At any other time this week it would have been. At any other time in your career, it would have been. Think about why the Lieutenant asked the questions he did." Orders, regulations, operations. "Intent rarely matters in the Army, Private, but in this case it did. This wasn't about overthrow of command or revolt, or disobeying orders. We could clearly see that. Except for still being out on training maneuvers in the field, you were all technically off duty and training was done. For you, and them, it was about working as a unit, protecting the Company, turning failure into success. This is training, this is when you learn those things. Failing is important, but so is creating success. The Sergeants were impressed, even as pissed as they were, that you could guide this group of grunts through this operation so cleanly. You improved morale. And you were right, we were hitting you boys really hard. So you see, it's not too hard for us and the Lieutenants to see this for what it was - a misguided prank. Horvath and I actually had a good time relaxing by the fire, watching you and Lamont here do some bonding. And you got the camp packed up, without your troops grumbling. You anticipated your superiors. You fit your plan and objectives to the situation. You made many decisions that demonstrated quality, respect, focused on unit performance, never taking your eye off your objective, covering every angle. And you stepped up and put yourself out front to protect your men. Frankly, you did our job for us while we got to sit around and be lazy." I thought about it, how it all happened. So many things could have gone wrong. "I got lucky nothing went wrong, no one acted up and did anything stupid." Sarge shook his head. "I don't think you get it, Harris. Things didn't go wrong and no one did anything stupid, because YOU were leading them. Private Lamont , do you think you could have pulled this off?" "Honestly, not in the timeframe he did it, Sergeant. Maybe eventually, but I would have had problems with a few of the squad leaders." Lamont answered. "And why did YOU go along with this?" Sarge asked him. "Him. His confidence. His plan was exactly what we needed to get refocused, without being juvenile or poorly hatched. He spread out command, didn't show favoritism, or give his squad special treatment. And he apologized straight to my face for what Private Sendahl had done, without being a jackass, or being a weasel. That took a lot. Earned our respect. I got the feeling Private Harris was a straightforward standup soldier, Sergeant." I was floored. Is that the vibe I gave off? That's not what I was trying to do. "Would you have followed anyone else, Lamont?" Horvath asked. "Maybe the big guy, Gunnerson. Something about him. Never spoken to the guy, but the way he carries himself reminds me a lot of you, Sergeant." I had no problem agreeing with that assessment. I'd have followed Zeus too. He was capable, serious, determined, and seemed far older than 19 years old. "Like the Lt said, keep your nose clean, both of you. Look, we know you're just kids, we're trying to turn you into soldiers and you're not as close to that as you think you are. Letting off a little steam is expected, but there'll be no more bullshit tolerated." Sarge told us. "Understood, Sergeant." I agreed. "Yes Sergeant." Lamont followed. I had no idea what was happening with the Charlies, but I got the sense the Bravos weren't the only headache in the Company. "Dismissed." ************************************** SLEEPER AND ASSMUNCH ************************************** "I gotta talk to you, Assmunch." Sleeper pulled me aside the minute I got back. He told me about what happened with Zeus. "I think Zeus is gay, dude." He finished with a whisper. I sighed. I suddenly got a glimpse of maybe how Sarge and the Lieutenant felt when they had to deal with our fuck-ups. I didn't have the mental energy for this. "I'm fine, thanks for asking, buddy." I replied with sarcasm. "Just got chewed out for mutiny, nothing serious." "Shit! Bro, are they gonna court martial you?" He shot back. I held a hand up. "Relax, no one's getting court martialed. And keep your voice down. I'd be sitting in a cell if that happened, not talking with you. But getting talked through it almost had me shitting in my pants." I didn't want to tell my best friend about the Lieutenant's talk of Officer. There wasn't anything certain there. I know he was just putting the idea in my head, and that a lot of things had to happen before the possibility even appeared on the horizon. But why did it feel like Lt was offering me the opportunity? We had five more weeks of AIT to go, and nothing was going to happen before then anyway. You didn't just get promoted to Lieutenant like in the movies. It meant a college degree first, something I didn't have the money for. Not to mention I wasn't even sure I WANTED to be an officer. My dad always called them useless. Of course, my dad wasn't Infantry. I don't know, it was all flying around in my head. Too much to siphon through. And now Big Gay Zeus on the verge of blowing a Big Gay Hole in our barracks brotherhood, which absolutely could not happen. Not only did I want to keep Zeus from getting booted, I didn't want Sarge and the Lieutenant, or the brothers for that matter, to go through any kind of investigation which would uncover way too many things happening in Bravo Platoon. And while I trusted most of my squad, Bootlicker was a weak link. And Puta worried me too if it came to supporting a gay brother. I knew I had to get Zeus to rein it in. I was not going to lose our Gay God if I could help it. "Get some clothes on, bro. And go get Zeus, wherever he's at. Let's go get chow and sit down to talk." I told Sleeper. "Yeah, fuck I'm hungry." Sleeper never got UNhungry.