I am awoken by a splash of water hitting my cheek. I jerk up, waking fully up by the time I am sitting upright. Sgt Tate is in my room completely naked. I look at the clock. It is 5:30 in the morning. The morning light is beginning to come into the room. It highlights him so nicely.
"What the fuck?"
"Faggot, I know you just woke up, but don't ever use that tone with me again. I need to take a piss."
For the first time I see his entire hairy body. It is magnificent. His pecs look like the work of a sculptor, as does his arms, and his neck, and his legs. Damn everything looks good on him. His cock is pointing down--not quite soft, but not quite hard either.
" . . . And my piss is going into your stomach."
I can't tell if this is a dream, but the splash of water that woke me up is running down my face. It isn't water. It's piss.
I blink twice to ensure that this is really happening.
"Get over here bitch!"
I crawl over to him and put my mouth around his cock. He pisses. When he is done, I begin to give him a blowjob, but he just pulls out.
"Thank me bitch."
"Thank you Sir." It was half a statement and half a question as to what he wanted.
He turns to leave my room. Damn, his ass is fucking amazing. It's hairy, but not too hairy, and very meaty. He scratches his ass and lets go a gigantic fart. He leaves without saying another word.
The fart's smell fills the room. I sniff it in deeply. I am truly in heaven. It takes me about a half an hour, but I fall back asleep.
I am shaken awake a second time. "Sgt Tate?"
"No boy; it's your dad."
I open my eyes to see my dad leaning over me.
"Son, I have to go. I'll be back in a few days."
I sit up. "What happened?"
"Oh nothing bad. Junior's wife is going into labor, two weeks early. He and his dad have to go."
"But why do you have to go?" Not being barely coherent, I fail to notice the gift horse situation I am being presented.
"We only have two trucks. Sgt Tate brought them up here in his truck, and he can't leave. That leaves our truck."
"Can't they borrow one of ours?"
My dad gives me a blank look. "Seriously?"
"So it's a seven hour drive one way."
"You coming back today?" Now I fully realize that I will be alone with Sgt Tate.
"Good God no. I wouldn't be back until midnight. No, I'll drive the extra few hours to go home. And I don't want to drive three days in a row. So tomorrow I'll probably get some rest. Besides Friday is a horrible traffic day. I'll be back on Saturday."
"But that's your birthday."
"I know. Don't worry. Get up. The guys are putting their stuff together. I need to do mine. Get out there and make us some breakfast."
I get dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. I walk out and see the guys buzzing about. Only Junior seems to have a hang over. Sgt Tate is nowhere in sight.
I begin scrambling a dozen and a half eggs. In another pan I fry up some ham. There doesn't seem to be enough time for me to do potatoes. My dad comes out.
"Smells good."
"Where's Sgt Tate?"
"He's downstairs in the gym."
"Food's ready. Get Senior and Junior. And I will get Sgt Tate." I want to see this man working out. I want to see him flexing. I want to see him sweating.
I go down stairs and walk into the gym. Sgt Tate is running on a treadmill. His massive body moves at a healthy clip. He is sweating. "Yeah faggot?"
"Breakfast is ready Sir."
He hits a few buttons and the treadmill slows down. "Did you touch yourself?"
"No Sir."
"Boy don't you lie to me."
"No Sir I didn't."
After a pause he adds, "OK. I'll be up in a few minutes. Send your dad down here."
I go up stairs and tell my dad. He is pissed that he has to leave his breakfast. I sit down with Junior who looks like hell. Senior joins us. Very little is said. With our plates half eaten, my dad and Sgt Tate come up from the gym. Sgt Tate has a pair of his jeans in his hands. He places them on the back of an empty chair.
"Something smells good." Sgt Tate smiles.
"That's Dan's cooking" my dad adds.
"She can cook too." Why does he have to use "she" to my dad? My dad doesn't seem to mind. Sarge must be joking again.
The men eat quickly and load up the truck in no time.
After hanging up the phone with his wife, Junior shouts, "We have to get going. She's going into the hospital."
Paul Sr. says goodbye to Sgt Tate and to me as they climb into the truck. My dad is the last one to bring his bag out. He too is in a rush.
"Sarge, thanks for everything."
"My pleasure. I hope you enjoy your birthday present." What is going on? It sounds like my dad's not returning for a while. It seems more serious than I think.
"Dan. This trip so far has been a blast. We haven't talked like this in a long time." What is he talking about? Yeah, we seem to be closer. Actually, I feel like I will miss him. "We'll do another trip one day just the two of us I promise."
Junior honks the horn. "Got to go son. See you next week."
"What are you talking about?" I am not following.
Sgt Tate puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'll explain it to him. Get Paul to the hospital."
My dad runs to the truck and gets in. He waves good-bye.
Both Sgt Tate and I raise our hands and wave. "Your father is going to be spending his birthday week at home."
"What? He was looking forward to this birthday trip for months."
"Yeah, I told him that the whore I lined up for him to fuck is a lot cheaper as a weekly whore than one bussed in to this lodge." The van is nearly out of sight. "He told me he'd do the weekly whore on the condition that I take this time to make a man out of you." There is a long pause. Both of us still have our hands waving, like some bad family picture. "And we both know that there is not one thing on this planet that could make man out of a piss drinking faggot like you. And the truth is--I would pay what ever it took for him not to return. I want you all to myself."
"Sir?"
The truck now goes over a hill, completely gone from both our sights.
"You are mine!"
He turns and within two split seconds he knocks me to the ground. "Bitch we are now plying by my rules. You don't do what I say; there will be unbelievable hell to pay. You follow my rules; the hell you will suffer will be a lot less."
He grabs my t-shirt and rips it from my body. Two seconds later, my shorts are gone.
"No bitch of mine wears clothes unless I say so."
He grabs my hair and pulls my head to his crotch. He takes out his soft cock and in my mouth it goes. It tastes sweaty. But sweat is replaced with bitter piss. And he is pissing at a full stream. I can't drink it fast enough. Some comes out of my mouth.
"Stupid faggot, you will suffer for wasting my piss."
While he is still pissing, he drops his shorts, kicking them off. He pushes my forehead back, while keeping his dick in my mouth.
"Look at me faggot."
I look up. I am scared. Really scared. Yesterday, I was turned on, now I am scared. I am going to be together with this man alone for twelve days. How am I going to manage?
He finishes pissing in me. Grabbing my hair he drags me behind him towards the porch railing. He leans over the railing. I see his ass in the daylight. Oh man is it beautiful. I want to eat it.
All my fear leaves me as he guides my face to his meaty ass. He firmly plants my face into his crack. I cannot move, nor do I want to move. He speaks. "I hope . . ." before he can continue I start licking his sweaty ass crack as if I had been thirsty for days. His voice slows down, probably due to the surprise of my eagerness to eat his ass. "Boy, I should have guessed that a piss drinking faggot would want to lick my crack. You better get around to sticking that tongue deep into my shitter."
For about ten minutes I lick his hole; I tongue fuck his hole. He relaxes to enjoy my rimming, even spreading his legs so that I can get better access. I rub his massive tree trunk legs. I even have the balls reach between his legs and jack him off.
He farts. Into my mouth it goes. I am shocked. I pull off his ass to say something to him like `What the Fuck?'
But before I say anything, Sgt Tate is quick to respond, "The next words out of your mouth need to be, `Thank you Sir'."
"Thank you Sir!" I mean it. I go back to eating his soft asshole. The sweat is all gone. After another ten minutes he stands. I do not dislodge from his ass. He turns around. His cock is hard.
"Now it is time to pay for wasting my piss. Go into the dining room and get the pants draped over the desk chair. Take out the belt and bring it to me."
I look at him in disbelief. He lovingly holds my chin in his hand.
"Look the last thing I want to do to you is hurt you. . . ." With his free hand, he rubs my cheek. With the most tender voice I have heard him use, he says, " . . . But it is still on the list. Now go get me the belt." He smiles sadistically.
I run into the lodge. Fuck. He's going to beat me. That's not what I was thinking we would do. I would gladly keep eating his ass or drinking his piss. I know that some guys on the Internet are into getting whipped. I am not one of them.
I see his pants. There's the belt. I pull it from the loops.
He yells from the porch. "Are you fucking blind? It's right there on the table."
I know that if I do anything but bring him this belt, that the next 11 days I will be miserable. I decide to bring it to him.
"It's about fucking time. You must be a retard--a retard that's going to be in a lot of pain pretty soon. Bend over that railing." He points to the same spot where I rimmed him.
I slowly walk over to the railing.
"Do you know what's about to happen to you?"
"You are about to whip me." After a moment I add, "Sir."
"That's right. Do you know why?"
"Because I fucked up Sir."
"And how did you do that?"
"By not swallowing all your piss Sir."
"That's right"
WHACK! WHACK! The belt lands twice, once on each cheek. I scream. My ass is on fire.
"That's it faggot. Scream all you want. Your daddy is long gone. No one can hear your screams. I made sure of that."
WHACK! WHACK! "I'm sorry Sir."
"Yes you are sorry."
WHACK! WHACK!
"You should be thanking me for being such a nice guy to correct your obvious deficiency."
WHACK! WHACK!
"Thank you Sir! Oh thank you Sir!"
WHACK! WHACK!
I get a total of twenty swats. "Get up faggot." I stand up, barely. My legs want to give out.
"You know, there's only one reason why I wear a wife beater."
I wait for the reason, but after a few minutes I realize that the statement is his reason.
"I'm going to be merciful on you, because I want you to learn what it is like if you fuck up again."
"Oh yes Sir."
"Do you know why you got these lashes?"
"Because I didn't swallow all your piss Sir?
"Yes, and are you going to fix that?"
"Oh yes Sir." I begin to cry.
"Take it like a man and knock it off. Wait, whom am I talking to. You will never be a man." He smiles. "I want you to go into the bathroom, take a shit then a shower. Go."
I slowly walk by Sgt Tate. His cock is standing hard and proud. It is leaking pre-cum. The man liked beating me.
I go into the bathroom, close the door, and sit on the toilet. I take a dump. He comes in to the bathroom.
"What the fuck? You don't ever close any door in my house. Closing the door gives you privacy, a luxury that only men enjoy--not piss drinking ass eating shitheads like you. You understand?"
"Yes Sir."
He reaches into the shower to turn it on.
"Get in the shower."
"I didn't wipe."
"So? You got your bare hands. Into the shower."
I go in. The water is nice and warm. Sgt Tate grabs the soap. He lathers up his giant hand. I have no idea as to what he is going to do.
He reaches down with his soapy hand to my cock and balls. He rubs them clean, but he is not at all gentle. My balls get squeezed a few times.
This is so humiliating. I feel like a little kid having his dad come in and wash him.
"Rinse off. Finish cleaning yourself up. And don't touch yourself."
He flushes the toilet, causing me to jump from the instant cold water splashing down on me. He laughs and leaves the bathroom. I pull the shower curtain closed.
What have I gotten myself into? My dad worships this man. Does he even know this man is a controlling demanding son of a bitch?
Well, that's a dumb thought. Of course he knows. Sgt Tate was his Drill Instructor. Mom used to say that he was a controlling prick all the time.
But, I wonder if dad knows that Sgt Tate likes to have sex with men.
All I know about Sgt Tate's sex life is that he doesn't have a girlfriend. He has a hard time keeping them. I can see why.
But I wonder what my dad would say if he knew that Sgt Tate whipped me, had me eat his shit hole, and drank his piss.
He would probably go crazy mad. That thought almost makes everything worthwhile. Damn, he is not 30 minutes gone, and I have gone though so much.
The shower curtain flings open. Sgt Tate looks at me. Again he is only wearing the white T-shirt. His cock is soft. What a sight!
"What's your password?"
"I'm sorry Sir?" The "Sir's" are coming more naturally.
"What's the password to your computer?"
"If you bring it to me, I'll type it in."
"Now that's not what the fuck I asked you shithead."
"But Sir, I don't give out my passwords."
He lunges towards me, coming into the shower. His hand grabs my neck pinning me against the wall. He slowly brings his face within an inch from mine. His ice-cold stare scares the fuck out of me. The shower is pouring over one side of his face, but his expression is completely immune to it.
"I don't care."
I struggle to breathe. I might as well give it to him. "It's `lennox5'."
He smiles--probably from the irony from the choice of our name. "Was that so hard?"
Before I can answer I feel a powerful sucker punch to my gut. I lose all my bearings. I slide down the shower wall, as Sgt Tate leaves.
It is so hard to breathe. I just lay there staring at the water going down the drain. I start to cry. My tears, unnoticeable due to the shower, join the water making its way down the drain. I don't know how much I can continue to take this.
He is a hot man, but he is also close to being psycho. How the hell do I get out of this mess? I can't run away, I am in the middle of nowhere. I can't run to the neighbors'; I don't even know where they are.
I get up and continue washing myself, clean the shit out of the crack of my ass.
I don't know what the hell to do. Should I call my dad to come get me? He will want to know what's going on. How do I tell him?
But he asked Sgt Tate to make a man out of me. He will think that I am not "being part of the program." I can hear him echoing in my head.
I step out of the shower. I use the towel to clean the steam off of the mirror. I look at my reflection. I see panic in my own eyes. I can't look. I sit on the closed toilet seat.
My stomach is still throbbing. I slowly count to twenty. I decide to avoid Sgt Tate for a bit, while I try to weigh my options. I will make my way to my bedroom and crawl into bed.
I walk down the hall to my door. I try to open my door, but it is locked.
"It's locked" echoes from the living room. "Join me in here."
I slowly turn and walk into the living room. I see Sgt Tate sitting naked on the couch looking at my computer on the side table. I can see on my screen he has one of my sites that I frequent. Oh shit. It's a porn site with daddies / boys. The web designer has a fetish for daddies getting rimmed, usually by squatting on the faces of boys.
"Sit here." He points between his legs. "Face me." I do. "Play with my cock." I take his cock in my hand and start to slowly jack it.
Looking at me, he speaks in a very calm tone "You can learn a lot about someone by looking at his bookmarks." He looks at me to gage my reaction. "But you learn a lot more by looking at the browser's history. It tells so much about what makes the computer's owner tick." After a long pause, he continues, "Well I see that you are a fag. But, we both knew that. You look at porn pretty much 90% of the time. A lot of people would have an issue with that, but I don't. You have urges all the time, which is a good thing. I too have urges. How many times a day do you masturbate?"
I feel so violated; I can't even look at him. I don't even protest. "Three to four times Sir."
"Well that's good for your age. That's about the same number of times I can cum. And I'm fifty-six. I see here you like older men."
"Yes Sir."
"This site shows them getting their asses eaten. I know you like to do that."
"Yes Sir."
"And here's a site with pics of a faggot with a tube going into his mouth from a urinal. You ever do that?"
"No Sir."
"You want that done to you?"
"Yes Sir." I knew that if I said no, that he would twist it around. I feel his cock get fatter.
"And here's one with a young pup much like you blowing one, two, three, four, . . . seven guys. What's the most number of men you have blown?"
"Two."
"Two? Who were they?"
"Two guys at the mall."
"Where in the mall?"
"In the bathroom. There is a glory hole there." I don't even resist his questions. What's the point?
"How often do you go there?"
"About every other day."
"Slut. And how many men do you blow?"
"About one a day, on average."
"Do you find cock anywhere else?"
"No Sir."
"How many men have you rimmed?"
"Three, including you Sir."
"And piss drinking? You demanded mine last night. So, I know you are a piss whore."
"Three again, including you Sir."
"Just three, you drank mine like a pro."
"I have been pissing on myself and drinking mine since puberty Sir." His cock is nearly hard.
"Really? Impressive. How many men have you gone home with?"
"None Sir." I am feeling comfortable again. This is the first time I have been able to be honest with my sexuality with another. He doesn't seem to judge me. I like that.
"Really? So when you want to get fucked, you get fucked in the mall's bathroom?"
"I have never been fucked Sir."
The Sarge looks at me in complete disbelief.
"That's hard to believe. You have never had a man put his cock in your cunt?"
"No Sir."
"Why not?"
"Well Sir. I have thought that getting fucked was something I would save for a lover. It seems, from what I read about it, that it is an incredible connection between men. I can see why. I love blowing the men in the bathroom. But when they are done, they zip up and go. I want to have a man who loves me to be connected to me. I want my lover to know that I need his cock in me, and he needs to place it in me. We hold each other tight as he fucks me, or rather makes love to me. It just seems to be right. And when the time is right, I will offer my lover--the man I choose to spend my life with--my virginity. I want it to be special."
I look at Sgt Tate. His face is scrunched up in a confused look. He relaxes his face, causing his bushy eyebrows to bounce up. He exhales in disbelief, slightly shaking his head. Sgt Tate gets up.
"Well, I will have none of that." His cock is rock hard and dripping pre-cum. "Get up. Bend over the arm of the sofa."
He cannot mean that he is going to fuck me. "Sir, I'm planning on saving myself."
"Don't be so fucking silly."
He pulls me by my arm and then spins me around. With great force he pushes me forward.
"Sir, please."
"Quit complaining. I'm taking your cherry. The decision has been made."
He kicks my legs apart. I hear him spit and then feel moisture on my hole. With my face buried in the couch pillow, I cannot see what he is doing. I do feel something invading my asshole. It isn't his cock; it's too small. It must be his finger. I clamp down.
"Let me tell you how getting fucked works. If you tighten up, you will be in excruciating pain. If you relax and accept your role as bitch, it will be more pleasurable. All you have to do is push out like you were taking a massive dump. The choice is yours."
A second finger joins the first. He twists the two fingers. I yelp. I try to relax.
"Good you are relaxing. Push out."
I push like I'm going to take a dump. "Atta boy. Are you sure you're a virgin?"
After a minute he pulls out. Then I feel a thump on my ass. This time there is no mistaking that it is his cock. There is no way I will survive getting fucked by him. He rubs his cock up and down my crack. It is very moist.
"I haven't had this much pre-cum in years. Hell I haven't had a virgin in years. On the count of three: One." He shoves his cock in me.
"Jesus FUCK! Get it out! Get it out!"
"Oh YES! You are a virgin!"
I struggle to get upright, but his hands move to my shoulders firmly holding me in place. His cock is deep in me.
"I don't want it in me. Get it out."
"Just relax."
He starts to pump. Each thrust feels like my asshole is being pulled inside me. I try to shit him out.
"There you go. Keep pushing."
I do. The pain is excruciating. "Sir! Please?"
"Shut the fuck up. You are starting to bother the fuck out of me." He pulls my shoulders to impale my hole on his cock. I keep pushing out. Slowly the pain starts to subside.
He lets go of my shoulders only to fall, full weight on my back. I feel his sweaty chest hair on every square inch of my back. He bites my ear, but not to hard.
It is starting to feel good.
He stands up and picks up speed. Pulling me onto his cock, my innards are being assaulted. The change in position brings a new pain. I know any protests will be ignored.
I cannot believe that my virginity, something I thought so deeply about, is so casually tossed aside. Tears begin all over. What is it, four times today that this man has made me cry?
Crying helps. He doesn't care. He just wants to fuck me.
"Bitch, get ready."
I give up mentally. I don't care. Cum inside of me. I don't give a shit anymore. I just want this over.
He tenses up, shoving his cock in deeper than it had been so far.
I scream. He shouts an enormous growl. He is cumming in my ass; I feel every spasm in my asshole.
"Squeeze tight."
I do, and he pulls out slowly.
"Hoo-Wee! Man that was incredible. Aren't you glad it was good ol' Sergeant Tate who took your cherry? You are one lucky bitch."
He walks in front of me. I see his cock covered in ass slime. There are small pieces of shit. There is even a spot of red.
"See that! That's what's left of your cherry. Now, when you get fucked by the Sarge, you need to clean up after yourself. Open up."
No way. I cannot do that too. I just can't take anymore.
"O.K., I'll do it my way." He reached down with one hand and placed my jaw between his thumb and index finger. With pressure, he's able to separate my jaw. His slimy, shitty, and bloody cock invades my mouth.
"I want a good spit shine!" I haven't stopped crying.
I don't know what to do. I start to suck. I can barely taste his cum. After a minute, he pulls out.
"You did a good job."
I start to rise. "I can't do this anymore." I didn't care anymore.
He grabs me by my head and plants his tongue deep in my mouth. Wrapping his big monster arms around me, I reluctantly do the same to him.
He leans awkwardly, and in one fluid move, he picks me up in his arms. We stop kissing.
He carries me to his bedroom. Like him and the rest of the lodge, it is quite large and quite masculine. He places me in his bed.
Sgt Tate climbs in with me, reconnecting the kiss. This kiss lasts for a few minutes. But, in my mind, it lasts like an eternity.
Pulling the comforter over us, I am wrapped in his arms. Wow, in ten minutes, my whole reality changes. Ten minutes ago, I was impaled on his telephone pole cock. Now, I am lying happily in his arms.
"Let's lay here for a while, maybe even take a nap."
My asshole tingles from the savage fucking. My ass cheeks are sore from the beating. My throat is raw from yesterday's throat fuck. My tongue aches from tongue fucking his asshole. But, with a simple kiss to the forehead, none of that matters.
I begin to fall asleep in his arms.
He barely whispers "Remember don't play with yourself."