Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS13822.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-27 | 12.5 KB | 215 lines

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@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
MARINE TRAINING
by KAS@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


     It was almost 4pm and I was as nervous as hell. I had meet Dan at
Hula's the night before and it was only once we got talking that I found
out that he was a military man. I had confessed to my military fantasies
and a day later one was about to beco me reality.

     There was a knock on the hotel door and I almost leapt out of my
jockstrap. Nervously I opened the door and there he stood :  a knight in
shining armour with a twist; he was a staff sergeant, not a knight, and
instead of armour he was wearing dress uniform. What surprised me was that
even after working and travelling in the Hawaiian sun his uniform was
crisp and clean. Trying to keep my tongue from panting I waited for him to
speak. To my surprise he ignored me and greeted my travelling companion! "
What the fuck is going on here?", I thought to myself. Luckily before I
could ruin everything by demanding an explanation he turned to me and said
"You, private, get your kit and wait outside". Silently I walked past him
and reached for my bag, mistake nu mber one!  "Private, what the fuck do
you think your doing?" he thundered after having tripped me up and using
his boot on my neck to keep my face in the carpet, "getting my bag as
ordered" I gasped, adding "sir" after a seconds pause.  I was then was
given my first lesson on military manners; standing at attention (or as I
was told a pathetic attempt at it) I was informed that a private had to
remember three things:

1) All utterances from the private were to be prefixed and sufficed with
the word "Sir",

2) The private was only to speak when either given permission to do so, or
in response to the Sergeant's question.

3) At all times the private was to do what the Sergeant said, without
pause and without question.

     Having replied "Sir, Yes, Sir!" to the sergeant's question of had I
understood the rules, I was allowed to collect my bag and left the room.
Once outside I collected my thoughts and realised that I was both shaking
with fear and as horny as hell.  Dan stepped into the corridor. As ordered
I was standing "easy" unfortunately he was just in time to see me easing
my trapped hard on. Glaring at me he told me to follow him, once in the
car I wastold that having touched my dick without permission was go ing to
cost. "Cost?", I thought, "what kind of punishment had he in mind".

     I thought we were driving back to his flat which was opposite the
army base but I was wrong! As we pulled into the army base, he heard my
gasp of surprise and informed me that there was no way a private could be
allowed to have such long hair and th at I was about to have a military
haircut at the military barber!  My hair was not exactly long but my hard
on leapt to attention at the thought of having a haircut on base.
Nervously I got out of the car, the only male civilian in sight. We walked
over to the barber where I "took a number". "43"  was the number printed
on the ticket, and the room was crowded with men in army fatigues. The air
was full of tension, some of these guys had been waiting for over an hour
and most of the younger ones resented having to get their hair cut. The
air was full of the scent of masculine aggression, and I found myself
reacting to it; when one of the guys gave me the "what the fuck are you
doing here look" I looked back in a manner which said "Go fuck yourself".
It m ust have been the right thing to do as he smiled and looked away.
Realising that I had at least a sixty minute wait, I left the crowded room
to stand in the fresh air and look over the base.

     Dan was chatting with friends, but excused himself when he saw me
standing on my own.  Taking me out of the earshot of others he told me
that if anyone asked I wasto say that I was Australian army, as it was
common for Aussie soldiers to be stationed here, off and on. I was also
informed that the sergeant was not a "hard arse" and to prove it I could
have a choice as to which haircut I was to have. Some choice! Either the
marine "high and tight" or an army "flat top". Either way the sides would
be sh aved, the only difference being that the flat top would be done with
a #4 (leaving it about ½" long)while the "high and tight" would be done
with a #2 (about ¼" long). I opted for the "high and tight" thinking that
if I was going to go through with it I w as going to go the whole way.
The sixty minutes wait became ninety before it was my turn, a hell of a
long time to think about what was going to happed... "How would work cope
with the extreme haircut", I thought, " Hell, stuff work, how would my
lover c ope?".We had an open relationship and no secrets between us, but a
military haircut!

     Then it was my turn... I took the chair and asked for a "high and
tight" then added, as I had been instructed to, "very high and very
tight". The Chinese lady said "O.K"and got to work.

     Getting my haircut felt great, the buzz of the clippers vibrated
through my head as the hair fell about my shoulders, the only letdown was
that the person doing the haircut was not a soldier but that is the
difference between fantasy and reality ..  reality is full of small
disappointments.  Five minutes later I climbed out of the chair and paid
up the $4.50. Getting back to the car I took a long look in the side
mirror and looking back at me was a freshly shorn marine with a grin which
stretched fro m ear to ear. At that moment a gust of wind caressed my head
and an undescribable wash of pleasure rippled through my scalp - now I
knew at least one of the reasons for the "high and tight"; it felt good!

     It was only a short drive from the base to Dan's apartment and I
spend most of that time playing with my head, just the feel of the short
stubble made me horny!  The walk up to his apartment was the longest walk
of my life ... what had I let myself i n for?

     Dan was right behind me and had said nothing from the time we left
the base, he opened the door and gestured for me to enter. Not knowing
what was expected of me I stood "at ease" and waited. Ignoring me he sat
down and started going through his mail . Five minutes passed before I was
"noticed"; he pointed to the uniform laid out on the couch and asked me if
I thought I was worthy of it. I longingly looked at the kharki shirt and
the dark green trousers which with the kharki garrison cap, made up a ma
rine's Class A modified. "Too fucking right, I'm worthy"" I thought to me
myself, but to him I said " Sir, I believe so, Sir".. The response must
have been good enough for I was told to strip down to my jockstrap and was
then instructed on the correct way to wear the uniform.Dan sent me into
the bedroom to see what I looked like. Staring back from the mirror was a
marine rookie, eager and willing to do what ever the sergeant asked of
him. My daydream was broken by the sergeant's demand for a drink, which I
fetched for him then stood waiting for whatever was to follow. Again I was
ignored for a minute or so, then helooked me over, smiled at my obvious
hard on, then ordered me to remove his shoes and socks.

     As I sunk to my knees he added the restriction that at no time were
my trousers to touch the ground.  Luckily I was able to adjust me posture
so that I was able to do as ordered, narrowly avoiding my first
punishment. At this stage I had no idea what the punishment would be all I
knew was that every time I "fucked up" there would be a penalty attached.
I was sent off to clean his shoes, when I returned to present them for his
approval I stumbled and dropped one of them, he was not impressed! "Assume
the position", he barked. "What position?" I thought and then had to
confess "Sir,the private is unsure of what to do", Shit! I fucked up
again! All utterances by myself had to start and finish with sir, I hoped
that he had not noticed but the evil grin w hich spread across his face
told me that he certainly had noticed!.

     "Assuming the position", I soon found out, meant bending over the
couch with legs splayed, head up and arse exposed, very exposed. The
punishment was ten lashes with the marine's belt a 3" wide white webbing
belt with brass fittings. I had to count t he strokes and on the eighth
stroke the brass end piece bit into my arse causing me to forgot to prefix
the count with "Sir".

 By the time I got to "Sir, ten,Sir", his arm must have been aching, for
even through the heavy cotton trousers I could feel the welts rising. My
arse was not virgin territory when it came to being hit, but 18 full
swings of a marine's belt when swun g by an enthusiastic D.I. was not easy
to take. "Sir, Thank you, Sir" I managed to gasp when told to stand up.

     In disciplining me, the sergeant had raised a sweat so I had to get
him out of his dress uniform before it stained. I carefully removed and
folded his clothes. After checking that his uniform had been neatly stored
away Dan lounged back on the couch turned on the T.V and started to watch
a grid iron match. For a moment I though that the scene was over and the
disappointment must have shown on my face as Dan looked up grinned at me
and said "O.K.  Private get out of that uniform and show me what your good
for".

     Now getting out of my clothes in a hurry is something I'm well
practiced at, making sure that my trouser do not touch the floor is not
something I usually worry about.  Dan coughed then sighed when I let the
trousers just fall to the ground. I froze and a strange sight I must have
been ; standing in a jockstrap with a look of total panic on my face.
Twenty lashes later I stood at attention shaking with the pain. "Fuck you
cunt" I thought to myself "there is no way you are going to make me
quit!".  My thoughts must have been transparent to Dan as he walked up
eyeball to eyeball with me and said quietly "Try it, if you think you can
win". This caused me to shake even more not in anger but in worry. I knew
that he knew that I had over 5 years of Karate training under my belt yet
he still felt confident that if I made a move he could take me out!

     He asked me what I had been thinking so I told him, exactly as I had
thought it but with a "Sir before and afterwards. My reward was a
lightening fast stomach punch, to his surprise I took the punch with only
a small grunt. It hurt alright but I was too damn proud to let him know
it.

     For my efforts I was made to perform 20 "8 count"pushups then had to
crawl on my belly over to him. My head was at his feet and I tentatively
licked his toes. In a flash I found his foot on the back of my neck
driving my face into the carpet and ma king breathing very difficult.
Pinned in this position I received 10 well placed slaps across my arse
which by now must have been a red welt covered mess. The pain was
different from the belt it stung more and I could not cope with it as
well, but I was in no position to protest, hell I could hardly breath.

     Grabbing my head Dan forced it into his sweaty crotch, I was tempted
to lick his sweat soaked jockstrap but my aching arse was telling me that
to do so would be dumb, painfully dumb! But god the temptation, I was
gasping for breath and my nostrils w ere full of what the jerk-off books
refer to as "his musky man scent", until now I had never understood what
they were on about and the smell, and the closeness of his cock to my more
than eager mouth, the burning of my arse and his firm hand on the back of
my shaved head was sending me close to trigger point. If did not do
something soon I was going to attack his crotch and to hell with the
consequences. My body was writhing with intent, and I could tell he was
enjoying it;his cock was slowly rising, pus hing against the fabric and
only millimetres away from my mouth. I was still panting for breath but
made damn sure my tongue did not stray.

     He pulled my head out of his crotch and held me tightly by the throat
as he released his cock. As it sprung into view he laughed at me and asked
if the private was eager for a taste. " Sir, Yes,Sir" I gurgled".

     Well from there on in it got pretty hot and sweaty and the sex was
great but the fantasy was the lead up to the actual fuck so this is where
the story stops.

     Since meeting Dan in '91, I have been back to see him this year and
although we had a lot of non-sexual fun we never managed to recreate that
magic bond between sargent and private BUT I did meet an ex-marine medic
in Chicago...