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TEXAS 1956 Vol. 1 – Chapter 16
"Hey, Brick, wait up," Jake said. "I'll walk you out to your cycle. Clayton, you stay here and wash and the dishes in the sink. Then set up the kitchen table for dinner."
"Yes sir," he said.
Outside, the Men chatted as they walked to the motorcycle. The officers had one of each, a patrol car and a Harley-Davidson, with uniforms to match. Brick had pulled on his leather jacket as they strode across the large asphalted apron outside of Jake's house.
"So what ya got planned fer Clayton?" Brick asked.
"Hank's gonna be feedin' him a different version of Correctol," Jake replied. "Got a touch of Supervision in it. Still gonna be a submissive fella, but he'll have an edge that makes him more involved in it. That mix will give him hard-ons that won't quit, and he's gonna get caught with his hand on his dick and the guards are gonna work him over."
Brick smiled.
"Next time he's out here will be fer two days," Jake said. "First day, he's gonna get the full Supervision mix. Shane's gonna bring Kenny out and Clayton's gonna help him give that faggot a workout. Next day, he's gonna get the full Management, and Shane's brother Ty's gonna have at him."
"But Shane 'n Ty are brothers," Brock said. "How's that gonna work?"
"Ain't gonna tell Shane that Clayton's a faggot fer the time bein'," Jake replied. "He'll find out in due time, but I want Clayton to see what a full-time queer faggot is."
"Hmm, okay, so what's after that?" Brick asked.
"Then he goes back on that same formula," Jake said. "Then back to school, and he gets caught again."
Brick laughed.
"Brother, yer gonna run a number on poor ol' Clayton!"
"Just wait," Jake said, chuckling. "When he gets caught again, comes the grand finale of the fireworks. Gonna turn that Clayton into the best-behaving, best-controlled, limp-dick queer faggot around."
"How's that?" Brick asked.
"Ya know that thing the Germans put on faggot's dicks?" Jake said.
"No!" Brick said, laughing. "That?"
"Yep, I'm gonna show up at the school and help the guards put it on," Jake said, still chuckling. "He ain't gonna be gettin' any more hard-ons after that."
"Damn, Jake!" Brick said.
"Meantime, Clayton's gonna be keepin' a diary of everything he does for Hank and Dirk," Jake said. "And he's gonna write out his duties, and about behavin' and keepin' himself under control. When he gets caught out, that fella ain't gonna have nowhere to hide."
"Ya better make sure he don't kill himself over it," Brick said.
"Not to worry," Jake said. "All them formulas got somethin' in 'em to keep 'em happy. Clayton's gonna be thankin' everyone fer catchin' him and keepin' him under control 'cause he couldn't do it himself."
Brick laughed again.
"Ya gonna teach a class in this someday?" he asked.
"Maybe so!" Jake said, sharing the laugh. "I guess I'm slowly become an expert at this mess."
"Okay, Clayton, so yer gonna take care a-them boots and straps and bring 'em back next time yer here, and yer gonna swap out them underwear."
"Yes sir," the cadet replied.
"Somethin' else yer gonna start doin' too," the deputy said, handing him two notebooks. "In one a-these yer gonna write out yer place around regular Men. In the other one, yer gonna write out everything ya do fer Hank and Dirk. All the orders ya follow, and anything else ya do for 'em, and how yer carryin' out yer duties."
"Everything, sir?" Clayton asked, with a worried look on his face.
"Yep, and yer gonna bring 'em out here so I can read it," the deputy replied.
"Yes sir," the cadet replied. "But the Commandant won't see it?"
"Nope, he won't," Jake said. "If I wanted the Commandant to know about ya, he'd already know."
"Thank you, sir," he replied, relief in his voice.
"Speakin' a-the Commandant, I got to tell ya somethin'," the deputy said. "That Commandant is a Man, and yer a queer faggot. Ya got no place runnin' him down, or runnin' any Man down. I know Hank and Dirk don't like it, and I think it's part a-why Hank don't quite trust ya. I don't like it none myself."
"But sir, just about everyone there hates him," Clayton said.
"Yep, and just about everyone there is a Man and got the right," Jake replied. "It ain't a queer faggot's place to be runnin' down any Man. That's why I'm havin' ya write in them books. Understood?"
"Yes sir," Clayton said.
"Now, I go back 'n forth in my head about whether a queer faggot is a Man," the deputy said. "Some a-ya think a-yerselves as gals, and so do some Men. Next time yer out here, yer gonna be meetin' a queer who's pretty much a little boy. But I know one thing, and ya ain't the equal of any Man, and ya best well learn it."
"Next time I'm out here, sir?" Clayton asked.
"Yep, couple weeks from now, yer gonna come out here on both days a-the weekend," Jake replied. "On Saturday yer gonna meet a queer faggot who knows his place real good, and the Man who's been runnin' him. Next day yer gonna meet the Man from up in Oklahoma who'll be watchin' over ya up there.
"I want ya to think back to the first time ya was out here. Remember the cowboy faggot whose dick ya sucked at Three-Finger Buck's? He was here to take care a-this place while I was on duty. Ran into him just as I was takin' ya back to yer school."
"Yes sir, I remember," Clayton replied
"He did what I told him to do, and when I got back that night there was a bunch a-stuff done that I didn't tell him to do," the deputy said. "Always thinkin' a-what I might want. That's how ya got to be with them roommates a-yers. Them Men always got to come first in yer mind when ya get up, and last in yer mind when ya go to sleep."
"Yes sir," the cadet replied.
"Back at that school with yer roommates, ya been behavin' fine," Jake said. "A few more things about yer place and you'll be set. Ya look fer things to do for 'em without bein' told. Ya don't argue or run down any Man back there. If they say somethin' ya don't like, ya keep it to yerself. And ya keep yerself and yer dick under control. Ya forget about yerself and think a-them. Hear?"
"Yes sir. I'll keep doing all of that, sir," Clayton lied.
The deputy smiled and rose from his chair.
"Good to know it," he said. "Let's get some dinner goin' then."
Clayton fetched the deputy a glass full of ice and a bottle of bourbon. Then he cleared the table, did the dishes and returned to the living room, as he'd been directed. The sun was going down outside, and Jake was sprawled on a chair, one leg on a coffee table, half-watching Gunsmoke, a Western show, on the black-and-white TV.
"Ya gettin' enough time fer yer schoolwork?" the deputy asked.
"Yes sir," the cadet answered. "The courses aren't all that hard. The things I do for Captain White and Lieutenant Mayfield don't take a lot of time, sir. I've always done a lot of reading, and now I do a little less, but not a lot less."
"Good to know," Jake said. "On Friday afternoon, I want ya to show Hank yer one notebook about yer duties. Then listen to what he tells ya, and maybe ya will need to make changes. One other thing. Don't go makin' a point a what ya do extra for him 'n Dirk. Just do it. Askin' fer atta-boys makes it be fer you. Ain't yer place. Hear?"
"Yes sir," Clayton answered.
"When ya write in that one book, I want ya to be thinkin' about everything ya been told and shown since ya first came out here," the deputy said. "Them notes will be a good way to make it all stick in yer head, and ya will be showin' Hank 'n Dirk that yer not just suckin' dicks and doin' chores but yer learnin' yer place."
"Yes sir," the cadet replied.
Jake was well into the bourbon, and was getting tight. He rose from his chair with the glass in his hand, and fetched a cigar. He put on his cowboy hat, and walked toward the patio, waving Clayton to come along. When they were outside, he lit his cigar and took another sip of bourbon, and chuckled.
"So we got us a sword-swallowin', piss drinkin', fuck-takin', boot-shinin', Man-obeyin' queer Oklahoma faggot," Jake said. "Only thing we ain't yet had is a Oklahoma ass-kissin' queer faggot, and I bet ya wanna be one a-them too."
Clayton thought fast. He had wanted to kiss a whole lot of the asses in the academy from almost the day he got there, and the same for the deputies. But he knew not to be too forward about it, even now.
"Whatever you'd like me to do, sir," he replied.
The deputy stood tall, spread his legs, and puffed on his cigar.
"Get on yer knees behind me 'n grab hold a-my belt 'n kiss my ass, faggot," he said.
Clayton's dick was throbbing before his knees hit the floor. He had often stolen glances at Jake's ass, and at Brick's, hard in their tight uniforms.
"That's right, queer faggot, kiss my Texas ass," Jake said. "Don't think yer doin' me any favors, 'cause there ain't a sheriff or a prosecutor or a jury that will punish a Man fer killin' yer faggot ass on the spot."
As the cadet carried out his order and kissed the deputy's hard ass through his stiffly starched, tight tan cotton uniform slacks, Jake grabbed one of his hands and moved it to the hard-on that stretched out to the side in front. He guided Clayton's hand to feel the full length, and then spoke.
"Grab hold a-the handle good 'n tight," he deputy said, "and keep on doin' what yer doin' back there."
The deputy could feel the cadet's passion as he squeezed and felt his hard-on, and kissed his ass.
"That's right, ya queer faggot," he said. "Get on it for all it's worth."
Jake unzipped his pants and withdrew his hard-on, and ordered Clayton around front, sitting him down on a stool between his feet.
"Look up here and open yer mouth," Jake said. "Stick yer tongue all the way out like yer tryin' to touch yer chin with it."
The cadet followed the order, as Jake grinned and rubbed his dick across his tongue. He was leaking precum.
"Remember, every single regular Manjack out there stands above ya," the deputy said, smiling downward. "The ones who know yer story are yer boss, and yer their ass-kissin' servant. Ya do whatever yer told, and ya make good 'n god damn sure to show 'em that ya know yer place."
The deputy put his dick in the cadet's mouth and told him to tighten up and suck.
"Make sure I can feel yer queer tongue workin' me," he ordered. "Pretty soon yer gonna relax yer throat and swallow the sword."
Clayton followed the order, and soon the deputy had grabbed hold of his head and was pushing his full length into his throat. He felt the spasms start, and the liquid deep in his throat. When it was over, the cadet sat and gasped for air. Jake had pulled out early and squirted into his hand.
"Lick that on off a-there," the deputy said, holding his hand out. "Squirt's good for ya."
The deputy's dick was softening as Clayton complied, and then Jake rubbed the cadet's head with his cum and spit-slicked hand.
"Man marks his territory," the lawman said, his half-soft dick hanging out of his uniform. "Now put it back in yer mouth. Got somethin' more for ya."
As the deputy began to piss in the cadet's mouth, he spoke to the cadet.
"That a-boy," he said, smiling wide. "Drink it down."
Then he was done, and Jake withdrew his dick, put it back inside, and zipped up.
"Thank you, sir!" the cadet said. "Is there anything more I can do, sir?"
"Nope," the lawman said, looking at his watch. "Time ya got back to yer school."
As they walked back toward Clayton's car, the deputy ran his hand over the cadet's ass and spoke gently.
"Yer comin' along, but there's lots to learn," he said. "The Men are doin' ya favors. They's protectin' ya from the Commandant, and keepin' yer family and future wife from learnin' about ya. They's givin' the stiff dicks too. Yer gettin' yerself a damn good deal, as long as ya know yer place and stay there.
"Yer to respect all regular Men, and obey the ones who know yer story. Yer to behave yerself and control yerself. Ya might come to worship one or two of them Men who keep a watch over ya. Some a-the Men like that from a queer, and will wind up givin' some latitude. But it's the Man's call, and it'll take time. Ain't no queer faggot's place to rush it."
At dinner, the deputy had fed him the version of Correctol with a bit of the Supervision formula added, and Clayton felt an urgency to his submission.
"Now I ain't gonna be the Man I'm talkin' about," Jake said. "I'm a trainer, and my job is to help ya get in line. But maybe the rest will happen. From the way ya look at Deputy Brick, and from what Hank has told me, maybe ya will be worshippin' them and maybe they'll want it. Their call, not yers. For now, just behave yerself and control yerself."
"Yes sir!" the cadet replied.
"Next time yer out here, yer gonna see a queer faggot who worships the Man who runs him," Jake said. "Next day, yer gonna meet the Man who'll be in charge a-ya up in Oklahoma. Ya will see what I'm talkin' about."
They had reached the car.
"I wrote down some things in one a-them notebooks to get ya started," Jake said. "Copy that in yer own handwritin' and start on it. I recommend ya do it in a list. In the diary book, ya start on Tuesday and write what ya did the day before. Don't be leavin' them books outside yer room. And ya remember the other things: the boots, the straps, the new undershorts, cleanin' yerself every day, and keepin' the water up inside as long as ya can."
"Yes sir!" Clayton replied. "Thank you for everything, sir!"
He reached the guardhouse gate at 8 p.m., and handed his pass signed by Hank to Tom Strayley, the handsome blond who who had walked out to meet his car.
"Hiya Corporal Clay!" he said, grinning and handing him a piece of paper. "Colonel announced this at dinner, effective right away. So ya better read it right now before I open up."
The announcement was brief.
"Clinton Military & Police Academy shares much in common with civilian colleges, yet we are not a civilian institution. In addition to coursework, we teach the discipline, structure, and hierarchy necessary for the effective functioning of military and police organizations. It is integral to our mission.
"After reflection and much discussion with instructors, trainers, and cadets, we will increase our recognition of rank. Effective immediately, all cadet enlisted personnel will refer to all cadet officers by their rank, and as 'Sir' in conversation.
"Salutes are required between all enlisted cadets and cadet officers, except in hallways between classes, or in latrines, locker rooms, and athletic facilities. While these changes grant no new authority to cadet officers, it is hoped that they will increase awareness and respect for rank hierarchy.
"Additionally, officers who choose to wear alternate uniforms will do so from Wednesdays through Fridays. They will wear the same uniform on all three days, and will include visible rank insignia appropriate to the uniform. Enlisted cadets who wear alternate uniforms will do so on Fridays, with appropriate visible rank insignia.
"Finally, there was concern raised in discussions that the new rule would interfere with comraderie between cadet officers and enlisteds. In light of that objection, cadet officers are permitted to waive the rule within private quarters. This must be done within a week, and there will transfers to accommodate objections."
Clayton thought fast. Not only did the order thrill him, but he saw it as his opportunity to show that he knew his place.
"So what do ya think of it?" Strayley asked.
"I don't think the corporals and sergeants will like it much, but I think it's the right thing, sir," Clayton replied. "I was raised to call all Men 'sir' and it threw me that we didn't have to do it after the first year, sir. I think the corporals who were raised in the country will have no trouble. As far as I am concerned, it will simplify life, sir."
After an exchange of salutes, Strayley lifted the gate and Clayton drove through.
Clayton arrived back in the room at 8:15, and only Hank was there. He saluted the captain, and handed him his academy underwear.
"Deputy Jake told me to give you these and wear other ones, sir," he said.
"Ya got school work to do?" Hank asked.
"Yes sir," he replied. "A couple assignments plus some work that Deputy Jake gave me."
"Yeah, he told me," Hank said. "Ya got a couple hours 'til lights out, so get to it."
Clayton expected to service Dirk after he returned, but his roommate ignored him. The next day both of them managed to find fault with his performance of the chores. Hank complained that his boots weren't adequately shined, and Dirk made him scrub the underside of the toilet rim with a toothbrush. He apologized and redoubled his efforts, and added some unrequested extras. The captain and the lieutenant found their clothing neatly arranged in their drawers, something they'd never requested, and Clayton asked if they'd like him to take note of what the corporals and sergeants were saying about the new policy.
They approved of the idea, but pointed out that other enlisteds knew that he roomed with two officers so he'd have to assure them that he wasn't going to be naming any names if he passed along any feedback.
"This new thing is really full of bullshit," said one corporal, at a lunch table full of corporals in the mess hall, including a sergeant and a corporal who roomed with lieutenant guards. "We've got a cadet officer in our room. Good guy, but how can you be buddies with someone that you have to call 'Sir,' anyway?"
"It's not like there isn't enough ass-kissin' around here to begin with," another one said. "So now we get another set a-asses to kiss, I guess."
Another corporal spoke up.
"So, Clay, you've never been too shy about calling the Commandant an asshole, so what do you think of this bullshit of his anyway?" he asked.
"My opinion, then?" the cadet asked.
"Yep, yer opinion."
"I guess I'm going to surprise you," Clayton said. "I got to thinking last weekend before that came out, and realized that I've been forgetting my place around here. The Commandant has a superior rank, and I am in a military academy. At minimum, I owe the Man my compliance with his orders, and my respect. Even before I saw the rule, I decided I'd cut it out."
A couple of corporals smiled with pretended looks of shock, figuring that Clayton was joking.
"As far his order goes, I can see why a lot of enlisteds don't like it, but it's no problem for me," he continued. "I was raised to call Men above me 'sir,' so I was surprised that I didn't have to do it after the first year here. You guys know I room with a lieutenant and a captain. I was already calling them 'sir' half the time anyway."
"You've gotta be kiddin'!" the corporal who asked his opinion said. "Everybody hates the Commandant."
"I wouldn't try to tell any Man here what to think," Clayton said. "You asked for my opinion so I gave it, but that's all it is. There are ranks here, and I think I owe respect to the ranks above mine."
The other corporal made a kissing sound with his lips.
"I do believe we have a a newly-minted kiss-ass corporal here," he said, laughing. "Did your roommates waive it in their quarters, or are you kissin' Hank White and Dirk Mayfield's asses now?"
It was Clayton's turn to laugh.
"Nope, they haven't told me to kiss their asses," he said, wishing to himself that they would. "They haven't waived the new rule, and I'd be surprised if they did. I think they'll handle everything as they should."