A Privates Life

"A Private is a soldier of the lowest military rank"

I'm a private in the US Army. That means I'm doing the lowest tasks, basically every corporal, sergeant, and petty officer's bitch boy. Hell, even the Private First Class end up using me. And I've ended up being the lowest one on the totem pole, so even the other PV1s use me for their needs and desires.

I have a bed right by the entrance to the barracks. As guys come off duty, or come home from a fruitless night at the bar, I'm right there, there to be used as a ready and willing cum receptacle. They usually unzip, jerk long enough to get hard, then fuck me until they shot their wad. It is never about me -- I am just a tool for them to get off, and their actions usually reflect it. They are rough, masculine fucks, occasionally angry and violent. Most of the guys will just shoot in me, but occasionally there is one who wants to paint my face with his jizz. My role as the company bottom means that I don't get much sleep each night. Only after the last man has shot his wad and gotten his relief do I get to sleep, their loads drying on my body and marinating in my ass. Needless to say, I tend to sleep way later than morning reveille.

The sergeant always wakes me up, screaming at me about what a lazy slug I was. I'm usually still be wearing the same dirty jock I had on the previous night. I get up, a bit bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, a little sore from the intense fucks delivered by the horny PFCs and PV1s working out their aggression and repression on me. The sergeant immediately recognizes what's happened, and I know it turns him on. He's never gotten above being a sergeant even after twenty odd years in the service. Nervertheless, he's married to the army, and the men he trains. The army has kept him in shape, and he's a hot, slightly cocky older man who knows what he wants. "Inspection time faggot." I groan inwardly. I know what that means. I pull myself up, stand straight, and try to keep as much dignity as possible with dried cum matting my chest hair and a dirty jock on.

The sergeant walks around me, slapping my ass, pinching a nipple, flicking my balls. We do this almost every morning, so I know not to respond, or it would get worse. Still, I can't help how I am wired, and my cock begins to stiffen. Of course the sergeant notices this. He always does. "Faggot turned on?" he barks.

"No Sir." There is only one answer to this question. I tried yes once and the sergeant turned me over to a special forces squad for the entire day.

"Cock says you are."

"Morning wood Sir."This is the acceptable answer. He tells me to spread my legs and bend over. It's time for the hole inspection. The past few days, the sergeant has been especially creative in his ass inspection, and I wonder what he has in mind today.

"Spread your cheeks, private." I reach back and pull apart my ass cheeks, giving him a clear view of my abused hole. I am feeling particularly vulnerable this time; I can't see him, or tell what he's doing. He's been making sure my days are filled with squats; so my ass is now particularly muscular and fuckable. "How many guns you take up there last night, Private?"

"12 Sir." I've learned to answer correctly here. If I say I don't know, I'm a stupid private who can't count. If I go under, I'm an embarrassment to the service who is ashamed of my fellow soldiers. If I go over, I'm boasting faggot.

"You sure private? That hole looks well used to me"

"Yes Sir. Darren got back from leave last night."

"That's Corporal Thompson to you, private." I hear the sergeant unsnapping something. A few metallic clinks later, I can tell he's either loading or unloading his pistol. "He's got a big gun, huh?"

"Yes Sir, he does."

I'm still bent over, holding my ass open for him. At least I am not upright; I'd be dripping cum out of it. Twelve is more than normal, but not my worst night. I can see the sergeant standing behind me, his boots right in front of my face. I knew them well; I have spent a few mornings licking them clean. I feel a bit of cold metal against my hole, and I immediately know what's going down. The sergeant had gotten out his pistol, and the barrel is now right against my ass.

"Spread them further, private." I do as he tells me. It has the effect of slightly opening my hole, and he takes the opportunity to push the pistol barrel deeper into me. He knows I hate being pistol-fucked. Aside from a total fear that he's not unloaded the gun, and he's going to kill me with it, there's something about the sight at the end of the barrel that just hurts.I grunt slightly as he pushes it into me. "Shut up private. Your cock is............

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