Subject: Chuck McGraw – Part 5 The continuing story of Chuck McGraw, a big-dicked, bad ass mother fucker. Soldier. Father. Fucker. Please support Nifty! For legal reasons all of this is fictional. Feedback welcome at: hoo 1996 – Blue Falcon -Fort Benning, GA “Drill Sergeant, can I speak to you for a moment?” The new recruit hovered in the doorway of the Drill Sergeants’ Office. He stood sharply at Parade Rest, his toes touching the yellow line painted on the threshold that delimitated the barrier between the Platoon Bay from the office. It was evening, an hour before light out and the Basic Trainees were all engaged in preparing for the next day; cleaning gear, squaring away lockers and beds, studying their Soldier’s guide. The office was small with bathroom in the corner, a couple of desks, and a squat rack and bench taking up most of the far wall. “Where is your Battle Buddy, Private?” barked McGraw, a routine phrase on the trail. In Basic Training the recruits weren’t allowed to be alone ever, and they were instructed to never approach an Active Duty Soldier, the Drill sergeants or Officers, without a Battle Buddy present. This was designed for their protection. The recruit, an athletic olive-skinned kid with hazel eyes named Jimenez, lowered his voice to a whisper, “He’s what I need to talk to you about.” Staff Sergeant Chuck McGraw, dressed only in his physical fitness uniform shorts, sat at his desk where he was making notes for the following day. He was 27 years old and a walking, talking rock solid muscle god, the envy of every man he encountered. Standing at six foot four inches and weighing in at a 210 pounds, with broad shoulders, a trim waist with visible abs, and with 19.5-inch arms, the senior instructor for his platoon frightened the recruits. But they also worshiped him. He wore his hair in an extreme horseshoe-style flat top, shaved down to the skin on the side all the way past the crown of his head, and he sported a dark-haired regulation mustache. As it was the end of the day his comically squared and deep-cleated chin was dusted with dark stubble. Shirtless, his chest like a dark-haired covered version of an anatomy drawing in a bodybuilder guy, huge slabs of pectoral muscles so heavy they left a dark cleft where they overhung his abs. His dog tags dangled from the cliff-edge of his chest. Thick veins roped down from his boulder shoulders, over his tattooed biceps to his Popeye-like forearms. His grey cotton PT shorts snuggled valiantly to contain both his sweeping quads and his soft but heavy ten-inch monster cock. His subordinate, Drill Sergeant/SGT Jason Sins was across the room still in his BDU trousers and brown t-shirt, his boots up on his desk as his leafed through Maxim magazine. Sins was dark-haired, 5’10” with a lean, wiry frame built for running and swimming, but bulked up with some well-defined muscles. Although the 24-year-old Texan ate nothing but garbage not an ounce of fat would cling to his muscular frame. He was all sharp angle, with prominent cheek bones, and a sharp jawline. Like McGraw, his body was a roadmap of tattoos, marking both his Chicago upbringing and his time in service. He was ignoring the recruit in the door as he packed his lower lip with dip. “Enter.” McGraw ordered. Jimenez moved into the office until he was standing just a foot or so away from the front of DS McGraw’s steel case desk. “Speak up, recruit. What’s the problem with your Battle Buddy?” Still whispering, as the platoon bay door was still open, PVT Jimenez said, “PVT Johnson is a faggot, Drill Sergeant.” “Did he tell you that?” McGraw asked, putting down his pen. Jimenez had gotten his full attention now. “No, Drill Sergeant, but he�” the Private started. “Did you ask him if he was gay?” McGraw interrupted. “No, Drill Sergeant, but.” “Private, you understand the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell program, do you not?” McGraw asked. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” “Then what is it about PVT Johnson that makes you think he’s queer?” “Drill Sergeant, its the way he talks. He never talks about chicks, or fucking women. He said he’s never had a girlfriend or any of that shit.” “And that’s what makes you think he’s queer?” “Yeah, Drill Sergeant. He keeps to himself a lot and doesn’t say much either. He just totally reads as a faggot to me, and that shit makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want a faggot for a battle buddy. Ya gotta kick him out or something.” McGraw sat there for a minute. DS Sins was now looking over at him as well, his istanbul travesti elbows resting on his knees invested in the conversation. McGraw let the silence linger just enough to make the recruit uncomfortable. Finally, the SSG looked across the desk to Jimenez. The recruit was 18, about six feet tall, and athletic, McGraw guessed baseball based on the kid’s build. He was Hispanic but his accent read as pure country Southern Alabama. Clearly this kid had assimilated into southern redneck culture. “Check it out, Private,” McGraw started, “I got you. I’ll handle this. What I need YOU to do is square your shit away for tomorrow and hit the rack. Don’t say shit to anyone, not a fucking soul, but tonight is the last night you’ll have to worry whether or not you have a faggot for a battle buddy. Clear?” “Crystal, Drill Sergeant.” Jimenez replied with a relieved smile. “Good. Get the fuck out of here.” McGraw ordered. Jimenez brought his heels together as he snapped to attention, made and about face and quickly exited the Drill’s office. DS Sins let out a snickering laugh as soon as the recruit was out the door. “Shut up, dude. You’ll give it away.” “Man, that kid ain’t got a clue what coming for him tonight.” Sins laughed, holding his sides. “You gonna stick around for the show?” “Fuck yeah, I’m not gonna miss you breaking in another bitch. Besides Allison is almost seven months pregnant and ain’t sucked my dick in fuckin’ forever.” Sins emphasized his statement by grabbing his crotch through his trousers. “Do you think Johnson is queer?” “Yeah, he is.” McGraw said. “No doubt about it. He’s been eye-fucking me for three weeks.” “I’m surprised you haven’t taken advantage him yet.” “I’ve got more cocksuckers than I can handle at the moment. Plus, Susan and I are fucking almost every day, trying to get pregnant again. I’m pretty sure she already is, but gotta make sure, ya know.” “Well fuck dude, send them my way? Wish I had your problems.” “I can’t help if they flock to me. But you can always take on my sloppy seconds.” “Right on, I’ll take what I can get.” DS Sins called his wife to tell him he’d be home late, and the two of them bedded town the platoon for the night. McGraw let an hour or so pass when all the recruits were asleep except for the fire guard. He spent the time the time knocking out a light weight/high rep leg workout, and some shoulders for good measure. When he was done, and his blood was pumping, he stepped out to bay and whispered an order to the private on guard and told him to wake up Jimenez and Johnson and have them report to him in the office. Using his red-capped flashlight the guard found the two young-men who made their way barefoot, dressed in grey PT shorts and shirts, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. Chuck was leaning against the front of his steel desk, with his ankles crossed and massive, muscular, tattooed arms crossed over his hairy chest. His chest hair was matted with sweat, as the office had no A/C. His grey PT shorts were now dark with sweat, highlighting the fact that he wasn’t wearing underwear. His cock looked like a cucumber was taped the inside of his thigh, the head nearly coming out of the leg opening. Other than the shorts he had on his trainers, socks, a watch, wedding band and dogtags. The two young men took up the position of Parade Rest side by side a few feet in front of their Drill Sergeant, after McGraw granted them permission to enter and had them close the door behind them. Johnson was built like a linebacker, 5’11” and built thick and strong. Despite his size he was one of the fastest Soldiers in the platoon. He had very light blond hair, almost white, and prominent freckles on his pale skin. He had a wide-eyed innocence to his face so that many people assumed that he wasn’t very bright. Beside him Jimenez was already grinning, anticipating what he thought was coming. McGraw was preparing to disabuse him of several notions tonight, and, likely, initiate the youngster into some new ideas. DS Sins, also shirtless, sat on the end of the weight bench, facing the scene in the darkened room. “Private Johnson, your Battle Buddy Private Jimenez came to me earlier today and accused you of being a homosexual,” began McGraw. Johnson’s eyes bulged as he heard the Drill Sergeant, but he remained silent as McGraw paused for effect. “Now for several years the US Military has been operating under the policy of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. You would have read about it and kadıköy travesti signed off on it in a red folder back at MEPS before you got here, you both would have. Now, for his sake I hope to fucking god that Jimenez hasn’t asked you outright, because that’s a lot of fucking paperwork and probably the end of his shitty career as a Soldier before its properly begun.” Now Jimenez’ eyes were bulging. “And I’m going to assume that he hasn’t asked, and you haven’t told. Would I be correct in that assumption, Privates?” “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” They both responded in unison, quietly. “Good.” McGraw nodded. Then, pointing at Jimenez with a flat open hand so that all five fingers were aimed on Jimenez like a knife blade, “what you Battle Buddy here doesn’t understand yet is that having a cocksucker in the platoon is a blessing, not a problem. Ain’t that right Drill Sergeant Sins?” “Fuck yeah, Drill Sergeant.” Sins said from the other side of the room. “You see, what I think the issue is here is that Jimenez is a bit homophobic. He’s been indoctrinated in his back woods, hillbilly town of inbreds that being gay is wrong or a choice. But he’ll learn eventually that in the Army sucking dick and other gay shit is a long and cherished tradition going back to the fucking Spartans. Ya see, Privates, those famous warriors y’all fucking worship were sucking each other’s cocks and taking it up the ass every chance they got, because that’s what men, and warriors, did. Fuck, there were entire military units made up of gay warriors and they were nearly undefeatable. I’m thinking Jimenez here doesn’t think a fag can be manly. And yet here he is accusing you, Private Johnson of just that. Now, looking at you two side by side, and evaluating how you’ve been performing the past few weeks, Private Johnson is by far the superior Soldier in every fucking way. He’s both faster and stronger than you, Private Jimenez. He shoots better. He’s smarter. He’s more disciplined too. I’ve seen him helping you to the point that you’re dragging him down when it comes to performance. I’d trade three of you for one of him any day. Maybe if you were less concerned about your Battle Buddy’s private life and what he may or may not be saying, Private Jimenez, you could focus more on the tasks at hand.” McGraw paused here to let his words sink in. With each accusation Jimenez went from confused to crestfallen, while Johnson’s chest visibly swelled with Pride. McGraw knew the Daddy vibes he brought out in other men, especially those whom he had direct authority over. They all wanted to impress him and none of them wanted to disappoint him. “Now, Private Johnson. Being in the Army requires a lot of close, personal contact and very little privacy. If someone has something to hide, they need to learn to do a good fucking job of it. If you are a homosexual and you are trying to hide it, and a dipshit like Private Jimenez here has figured it out, well I’d say you need to get better at it rickity-fucking-tick. Do I make myself clear?” “Crystal, Drill Sergeant” Private Johnson said, his face flushing dark crimson with embarrassment. “Private Jimenez, you need to learn that no one else’s life matter’s more than you Battle Buddy. To you his life is more important than your wife’s, girlfriend’s, or first fucking born child. Its more important than your own. For you to come behind his back is some half-assed, pussified attempt to get him in trouble of some kind, or likely kicked out of the Army, shows me what a giant piece of steaming shit you really are. You should be placing his needs above your own, as he has already done for you. If Private Johnson is a queer, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It means he has one more skill that you don’t. Its a skill that, if you weren’t some fucktard, you could take advantage of.” The two were both blushing. Now was when McGraw decided to drop the hammer. “Private Johnson, I have a confession to make. I love fags. They suck my dick like no bitch has ever been able to.” Their embarrassment turned to open mouthed shock at this confession. ” I’ve been choking cocksucker’s on my meat since before either of you were born. My dick is so big that most women can’t handle it. Besides I love a good blowjob and most cunts won’t suck dick because they can’t love it like a faggot can. My wife is a good cocksucker, but she is far from the best at it. Now, I’m not going to ask if you’re gay because then I’d be violating policy. But,” grasping his waistband, bakırköy travesti McGraw shoved his shorts past his massive thighs until they fell to his ankles, where he kicked them off and to the side, “I want you to do what feels natural.” McGraw leaned back on the desk edge, hands braced on either side, his legs spread. His cock was growing harder, and a drop of precum already glisten on the end of his hooded head. Fear and lust fought for prominence on Johnson’s face, but he only let the silence linger for a few brief moments before he dove to his knees in front of his drill sergeant and used both hands to guide the ten-inch cock into his cock holster. His eyes rolled back into his head as the first sweaty, musky taste hit his tongue. He was a man starving, and McGraw was offering a feast. “What the fu�” Jimenez started, shocked and a little horrified. But before his could finish, DS Sins was beside him and place a long muscular arm over his shoulder. “Check it out, Private.” He said. “What Drill Sergeant McGraw and I are about to show you is that a cocksucker in your platoon is best shit ever. You’ve basically got someone to suck your cock whenever you want, day or night. You don’t have to buy them fucking dinner or pretend you like their fruity little dog. You can just whip out your dick and enjoy it. Afterward you can just get a beer or whatever because it doesn’t matter.” Sins paused to spit his tobacco into a soda bottle stuffed with a napkin, already half-filled with spit. “So what you need to do now, Private, is take some fucking mental notes. Because what happens now is Private Johnson is gonna suck DS McGraw’s dick, then mine, and yours if you aren’t too much of a pussy. But either way, not a fucking word about what happens here tonight is gonna leave this room. Understood?” Jimenez nodded. “I can’t fucking hear you, Private.” “Understood, Drill Sergeant.” Jimenez said. His eyes were still locking on his Battle Buddy’s bobbing head as the former footballer swallowed an impressive about of DS McGraw’s monster meat. “That’s fucking right, Private. And we will fucking know if you talk. If you want to stay in my fucking Army, you’ll keep your mouth shut and enjoy the ride.” Threatened DS Sins. The two of them stood there for a bit while Johnson slobbered, stroked, and swallowed DS McGraw’s cock. The young man was skilled, and the most certainly wasn’t his first blowjob. McGraw for his part sat back and enjoyed the Private’s administrations. He’d occasionally offer moans or encouragements, speaking softly. Eventually Sins led Jimenez over to the desk and had him strip down. PVT Jimenez was rock had, precum leaking from his piss slit. Despite his earlier homophobia, he was immensely aroused at the prospect of getting his own cock sucked by his Battle Buddy, PVT Johnson. DS Sins pulled his cock out of his own shorts and the three men rested against the edge of the desk. Johnson needed no instruction and reached out with both hands stroking the men’s three hard cocks. He then took turns, alternating between the different men. “You see, Private,” McGraw said, his massive arm around Jimenez’ shoulders while Johnson was taking a turn on the recruit’s dick, “If you weren’t such a close-minded moron, you could have been getting this kind of action all along. There is nothing better than a cocksucker in the squad. What do you think, now?” “Fuck, Drill Sergeant,” Jimenez managed to get out between moans, “Ain’t no one sucked me off like this before. Its fuckin’ amazin’!” “Private, treat your battle buddy right, watch each other’s backs in all things, and life is gonna be a lot easier for you.” Johnson sucked down three loads that night. The following night he and Jimenez would be assigned Fire Guard duty for the midnight shift. While Jimenez watched the platoon bay, DS McGraw explored PVT Johnson’s ass, bent over his desk. The kid was no virgin, but McGraw had to gag him with balled up PT shorts to muffle his screams as he took a pounding with all ten inches of the Drill Sergeant’s dick. The rest of that cycle Johnson was McGraw’s personal cum dump and he took the Drill Sergeant’s loads almost every day; in the office, in the field, even in the foxhole once during target practice under the excuse that McGraw wanted to help him with his marksmanship. Johnson would become a favorite of the Drill Sergeants, and he and Jimenez became inseparable. Jimenez would improve quickly under Johnson’s guidance when it came to fitness and marksmanship, and Jimenez would step up his came to keep up with his battle buddy. They would often slip away together for extra training sessions away from the rest of the platoon. Neither of them forgot the valuable lessons learned from DS McGraw. More to cum.

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