Having the Duty Ch. 03

Brandon

By William Monroe

When Roger met Charlie and Bill at a Washington, D. C. bar late on a rainy Saturday afternoon, he knew at a glance that the two guys whom he estimated to be about 20 or 21 years old and were roughly six feet tall with no facial hair and who both had "high and tight" haircuts were Marines. As it turned out, Charlie and Bill were stationed at the Marine Corps' historic original barracks at 8th and I Streets, only a few blocks from Roger's house. He and the young grunts became friendly that day, and it didn't take long for the gay man's home to become a home away from home for several young Marines stationed at 8th & I, as the barracks was commonly known in the Corps and in D. C.

Men have been sucking off horny young Marines for as long as there's been a Marine Corps. After all, all guys, including young Marines, know that having their dicks sucked doesn't make them queer. To keep that impersonal and as unromantic as possible -- translate that into keeping them and their buddies having gay sex on a regular basis as non-gay as they could make it -- Bill and Charlie created the "Duty Roster." The roster would decide which horny young Marine grunt had "the Duty" -- reporting to Roger's bedroom -- on an arbitrary rotation that began with a coin toss. It went unsaid but was understood by all the boys that what happened in Roger's room, which was that they would at least have their cocks sucked stayed in Roger's room.

Charlie won, or lost, the toss and was first to knock on Roger's door. Bill was next. Brandon, the third addition to what the boys dubbed "Roger Squad," was as tall, nearly perfectly built, and had the same "Poster Marine" face as Charlie and Bill. If possible, Brandon was even more eager to follow directions and please. Brandon didn't wait for his turn to get "the Duty."

On Tuesday and Friday evenings during the Summer, the Silent Drill Team and other ceremonial units perform at the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington, and at their barracks at 8th and I. The events are a big deal for tourists and for the Marines. Roger attended several of these events, even being paid the honor, arranged by his boys, of being seated in the highly coveted "Family and VIP" seating area at the Marine Barracks Sunset Parade. Afterward, the guys usually hit the bars to blow off steam. On those nights, he was used to few, if any, of the Marines showing up at Casa Grunt.

The first time Roger heard that the Marines had nicknamed his home Casa Grunt, he swallowed a laugh. Although at that point, only Charlie had grunted out into a pillow the pain of losing his cherry, Roger knew the rest of them would soon be doing so, and indeed, Bill followed not too long after.

Late on a Friday night, as Roger considered calling it a day, he heard the familiar knock Roger Squad members used to announce their presence. When he made his way down to the front door and swung it open, the curious look on his face shifted to pleased surprise. The open door revealed a handsome, sweaty, bare-chested young man clad only in red Marine Corps jogging shorts, sneakers, and white socks. He looked up, stopped wiping the sweat off his closely cropped head with a gold USMC t-shirt, and smiled.

"Hello, Brandon," Roger said as his eyes boldly and blatantly traveled slowly over the young Marine's nearly naked, perspiration-glistening body.

"Hello, Sir."

"Been for a run, huh?" As Roger acknowledged the obvious, his eyes settled on the growing bulge under the clinging, sweat-damp shorts hanging low on the twenty-year-old Marine's narrow hips.

"Yeah. After the gig, I was all wound up, so I ran down to the Lincoln Memorial and back."

"There and back's at least a six-mile run. No wonder you're so wet in this humidity. I guess now you want to come inside and work out a different kind of tension."

"If that's okay. I know it's late."

Roger didn't think the boy could make himself more appealing. Standing a step down with feet planted about eighteen inches apart in the glow of the porch lanterns, naked except for the sneakers and the short, loose, silk-like running shorts, his skin coated with a light sheen of sweat, with his strong arms hanging at his sides now, his horny young hard as steel cock tenting his shorts and his eyes looking up into Roger's.

"Oh, it's okay, Brandon. I know a young Marine like you requires attention, probably quite a lot of it and often. Am I right about that?" Roger asked, as his eyes moved up from the long tube of hard cockmeat now arcing all the way out and slightly to the left of the Lance Corporal's balls, with its big head almost resting against the Marine's muscular thigh under his flimsy shorts to his handsome, blushing face.

Before the Marine could answer, he added, "Although I do enjoy having a straight boy like you decorating my doorstep, showing off his hard dick the way you are right now, Brandon. You are straight, aren't you, Marine?"

Roger loved to talk dirty to his Marines. They all did so among themselves almost constantly. The sexual innuendos that flew back and forth between them startled Roger at first, then he began to understand. Teasing and provoking each other was just one of their many defensive mechanisms. Calling each other "faggot," and "gay boy," and one telling the other that he was going to get butt-fucked was a form of play for them, but not really. Roger joined in and took their verbal sexual humiliation of each other up a notch or two, startling all of them at first, but they quickly responded to it. How quickly surprised him.

Roger waited, looking into the horny young Marine's eyes until he finally admitted, "Yes, Sir, I'm straight."

"Well, come on in. That cock of yours looks like it will explode all over the inside of your shorts if I don't let you drop them," Roger invited, laughing as he moved to the side so Brandon could step through the door. "You do know how much I like a naked straight boy with a hard dick running around the house!"

As the door closed and Brandon stood there looking at Roger, breathing slowly and still just a little bit heavily from his run, with his hard cock trying to snap around under his jogging shorts, Roger didn't let up. "Go on. That was an order, Marine. Drop your shorts." Roger said more sternly as he locked the door.

"Pick them up and hand them and your shirt to me. Start stroking as we head up to my bedroom. Correct me if I'm wrong, Brandon, you did come here tonight because you desperately need to beat your meat, right?"

Brandon was naked in a flash. He tried not to look Roger in the eye as he handed him his discarded clothes, but Roger had none of that.

"Don't disrespect me, Marine. I'm good enough to let you in at this hour, so you have a place to beat off. You can damn well look me in the eye and answer my question straight boy," the older man ordered as Brandon looked off to the side while holding his sweaty t-shirt and shorts in one extended hand and obediently stroking his hard cock with the other.

"Ugh... oh, gezzz, I'm sorry, Sir," the totally humiliated masturbating Marine mumbled as he turned to face Roger.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry, Sir! It won't happen again, Sir!" Brandon corrected himself in Marine Corps fashion, as his fist pumped his hard cock while he looked straight into Roger's eyes.

"Good boy. You are a good boy, Brandon. I know that; you just need to learn some new things. You will."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll do better."

"Okay, let's go. Keep stroking your pretty penis for me, and let's get upstairs. I'll be right behind you, straight boy, checking out your ass."

With that, naked except for his sneakers and socks, and with Roger behind him carrying his t-shirt and cast-off shorts and admiring his firm, young Marine ass, Brandon and Roger began the short walk to the stairway leading up to the second floor of Roger's home.

The straight young Marine had not argued or hesitated when Roger ordered him to drop his shorts or when he told him to grip his rigid dick and stroke it. In fact, rather than argue, Brandon had given up a soft, startled moan from deep within his chest. Then he obediently wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to stroke it.

"Ever beat your meat for a man before, straight boy?" Roger asked as they approached the foot of the stairs.

"Jesus... no, Sir," Brandon almost gasped.

"I guess, you've never cum for a man, or had one milk that big dick of yours, have you?"

"Oh, fuck. No, man's ever touched me, never. I mean, no, Sir. Are you going to do that, milk me?"

"Oh yeah. You're a horny, young cum cow, Marine. I could tell that about you from just about the first time we met. I suspect you try to drain yourself dry, what, three or four times a day at least?"

"What the fuck, man...? I mean, Sir. How...?" The boy's fist and he stopped moving as he gasped in shocked surprise and looked over his right shoulder at Roger, amazed that he could possibly know such a personal detail about his most intimate sexual habits. Roger had a massive grin on his face when Brandon's already blushing one starred at him in dazed surprise.

"Get that fist moving, Marine," Roger cautioned in a low, stern voice.

"Yes, Sir!"

Brandon's handsome face instantly faced front again and he resumed climbing and masturbating again.

When they reached Roger's room, Roger had Brandon remove his sneakers and socks and stand against the wall opposite the foot of his bed while Roger, still fully dressed, made himself comfortable on it. Roger didn't speak for almost a full minute, letting the straight Marine stand naked against the wall facing him in silence while he masturbated.

Roger had sensed something special about Brandon the first time he showed up at Casa Grunt in Charlie's company. During the only Field Day held since the young Marine joined Roger Squad, Roger assigned Brandon the most difficult and humiliating tasks. Although his eyes bore into Roger's to convey his displeasure, stripped to boxer briefs and with his cock chubbed up in them like the rest of Roger Squad, the young Marine attacked the demeaning tasks with Marine Corps determination. Now, naked against Roger's bedroom wall, stroking his hard dick, the Marine was a textbook example of how effective a little humiliation can be at exciting and training a horny straight humiliation junkie.

"You never answered my question, Brandon. Was I correct that you beat your meat three or four times a day, at least?"

Roger, breaking the silence with such a personal question, startled the Marine. His pumping fist missed a stroke, but quickly recalling Roger's displeasure the last time that happened, the young Marine immediately adjusted the movement of his fist as best he could, hoping that Roger wouldn't notice and discipline him. His training had already begun to sink in.

Roger did notice, of course, but he smiled inwardly at Brandon's instant correction, knowing instinctively why it was so immediate.

"Sir, I jack off at least three or four times a day if I have the time to and can find a place," the blushing young Marine admitted as his eyes sank to the floor. "Sometimes more, Sir, when I'm really horny."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Eyes, Marine..." Roger admonished.

Brandon's eyes snapped back up to look into Roger's as his fist stroked up and down his hard now profusely leaking what Roger judged to be about a just shy of eight-inch, respectively thick cock. He was unable to tell yet if the dick in the Marine's hand was cut, or uncut.

"Tell me something straight boy, is that pretty penis, cut or uncut?"

"Uncut, Sir," Brandon replied almost hesitantly.

"Good. I like a handsome boy wearing a hoodie," Roger said with a grin. "Keep your eyes on mind and polish that knob, Marine. I want to see your palm rotating around the pre-soaked head of that gorgeous dick of yours... and don't be silent. Let me hear you moan, boy."

And that is exactly what Brandon did for Roger; polish the big ultra-sensitive exposed head of his profusely leaking uncut cock for Roger and moan like a girl having her pussy eaten for the first time.

When he's enjoyed that show enough, Roger pointed to the side of his bed and ordered the moaning and gasping young grunt to, "Bring it over here to me, straight boy. Come stand right here beside the bed so you can give your traitorous cock and your balls to me. You do want to give them to me, don't you, Marine?" Roger asked while looking directly into Brandon's eyes.

"Oh... fuck, Sir... I..."

"You do want to give them to me, straight boy. You've wanted me to grip your junk since the day we met, so get your ass over here and ask me to do that."

Brandon was a good Marine. He understood and obeyed orders.

A few seconds later, desperate to feel Roger's hand stroking his penis, straight Lance Corporal Brandon McNalley, whom earlier that evening acknowledged that no man had ever touched him, and who since then had been touched, jacked off, sucked, and had obeyed every obscene command given him, stood naked at the side of Roger's bed with his hard cock and balls presented, politely and respectfully asking Roger to take possession of his junk and him.

"Please, Sir, stroke my cock... I'm fucking desperate... geezzz... please... I'll do anything you want..." Brandon whimpered more than spoke.

"You're sure this is what you want, Marine?" Roger asked as his left palm cupped the trembling young Marine's balls and the fingers of his right hand encircled his hot, thick almost throbbing shaft. "I want you to be sure."

Brandon stood before Roger with his eyes closed, breathing deeply and steadily, lost in the sensation of having his ballsack and the large egg-like balls being rolled, gently squeezed, and tugged on by Roger's left hand. His thick, almost perfectly straight, uncut cock, which had a foreskin that retracted into invisibility, was now in Roger's talented right hand instead of his own, being caressed, teased, and introduced to the pleasures it could come to expect from its new owner.

Roger had guessed early on that Brandon was a habitual masturbator, a masturbation addict. The first giveaway was the young Marine disappearing into the main-floor powder room for extended periods during all his visits. The other Marines used the bathroom off the basement playroom. Roger tested his theory by locking the powder room, which visibly upset the young Marine. He then "fixed" the lock so it seemed to lock, but actually wasn't. The next time Brandon sequestered himself inside to jack off, Roger "accidentally" opened the door and caught him with his hard cock in hand. That's when Roger told the red-faced grunt that from then on, when he had to beat off, he should do so in the bathroom off Roger's bedroom and that he shouldn't beat off without inviting Roger to watch. Until tonight, though, Roger had never taken control of Brandon's masturbation, or of the Marine himself.

Roger sat on the edge of his bed, gazing back and forth between the handsome face of the tall, naked young Marine he was masturbating and his big, hard, near-perfect penis in his fist.

"Have you jacked off today, Marine?"

"Oh... fuck... yes, Sir. This is so embarrassing."

"How many times?"

"Twice, Sir."

"Where?"

"Please... Sir."

"Where, Marine?"

"In a bar on 8th St. and in the toilet at the Navy Museum... Sir"

"You beat off at the fucking Navy Museum?! What a fucking slut you are!"

The totally humiliated and horrified Marine dropped his straight-ahead gaze and looked down in shock.

"Get your face back up where it belongs, Marine!" Roger ordered without his pumping fist even slowing on Brandon's throbbing penis.

"What would you call a boy who masturbates in public toilets?

"Fuck... I don't know, Sir."

"I think you do. I think you're just too bashful to say it. Don't be."

Roger's precum slick palm began to slowly rotate around the ultra-sensitive head of Brandon's uncut cock as he talked to the panting Marine, making his soft moans increase and prompting repeated gasps.

"Oh... ummm... aww... a... slut, Sir!"

"Yes, you are, Marine. A masturbating young slut. Say it."

"Oh my god... no, please..."

"What was that?"

Sir! Sorry, Sir!

"Say it, Marine."

"Oh, geezzz, fuck, Sir... I'm a masturbating young slut, Sir."

"You see, I told you you'd be learning new things."

"Do you prefer dry stroking like we've been doing, or do you enjoy a lubricated cock?"

"It doesn't matter, Sir."

"I didn't think so. You just like to play with it, right, Marine?"

"Yes, Sir."

With no warning whatsoever, Roger plunged his warm, moist, talented mouth down onto Brandon's throbbing cock and, with the flat of his tongue pressed up against its underside, swallowed it to its root. Every muscle in the young Marine's body tensed for a millisecond, then, just as Charlie's had, his hands flew from behind his back and grabbed Roger's head as his face tilted down.

"Oh my god... oh my god... ahhhhh... fuck... Sir!" the pleasure-crazed Lance Corporal stammered as Roger held his hard, throbbing cock deep in his throat and masturbated it with his rapidly moving tongue. Breathing through his nose while the young Marine nearly passed out, Roger continued to rapidly slide his tongue up and down against the underside of Brandon's now burping out precum cock, for almost three minutes. When he sensed Brandon could not keep himself from cumming any longer, Roger came up off his delicious cock.

"Oh, please no! Don't stop, please, Sir!" the straight Marine begged, looking down with almost tear-filled eyes into Roger's as his long, hard, spit-coated cock bounced and snapped around in the air inches from the gay man's mouth.

"I said you would learn new things, Marine. Do you want to learn?"

"Yes, Sir! More, please!"

Roger leaned forward and engulfed Brandon's tasty penis again. This time, as his lips and tongue slid down the Marine's thick shaft, his hands reached up, and his thumbs and index fingertips clutched, pinched, and began to gently twist and tug on the small, dark pink nipples at the outer edges of the grunt's well-defined pecs. Holding the straight boy by his nipples, Roger began to twirl his mouth up and down his needy cock. This time, when Roger knew Brandon was at the edge and fully enthralled by his pleasure-possessed penis and pain-enraptured tits, as he lifted his mouth off the Marine's cock, his hands guided him to his knees by his nipples.

Looking down into Brandon's upturned eyes as he unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans, Roger smiled.

"Stroke your cock, straight boy. I said you had new things to learn. You've learned some. Now it's time for another lesson," Roger said calmly as his left hand caressed the Marine's high and tightly shorn head. "This room is your new jack-off den. This is where you come whenever you need to beat your meat. No more public toilets or using the bathroom. You do all your masturbating in my bedroom. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" the naked, kneeling Marine almost gasped out in surprised happiness.

"Pull down my jeans, and my shorts, and help me step out of them. That will be part of your duties from now on," Roger said matter-of-factly, as if he was telling the Marine to close a window. Less than a minute later, Brandon had Roger's jeans and boxer briefs off of him and neatly folded on the floor beside the bed.

"Guess you've never been down on your knees naked like this, so close to a man's dick, have you, straight boy?"

"No, Sir, never."

"You've got a real nice cock. I do too, don't you think?"

"I guess, Sir."

"You guess? Look at it. No, take a good, close look at that cock, straight boy."

"Yes, Sir."

"Stroke your hard cock while you look at my big dick and describe it, straight boy."

"Oh.... fuck me.... It's big, Sir, and circumcised," the young Marine offered, looking up into Roger's eyes as if pleading not to be forced to verbalize how the big cock appeared to him.

"Yes, it is big and cut. What else?"

"It's thick and it has a huge head."

"It is a nice big head, isn't it, boy?"

"Fuckkk... I don't know..."

"What? You don't know?"

"I mean... I never..." Looking up at Roger helplessly, "Sir, I've never..."

"You mean you've never seen a grown man's cock up close, or you've never seen a grown man's cock up close and hard like you've made mine?" Roger asked softly.

Roger smiled when Brandon's forehead creased as he tried to make sense of his words, and the young, straight Marine's tongue snaked out to moisten his lips. He could tell the Marine was so excited that he was on the verge of busting his nut.

"If you cum without permission, I'm going to make you lick it all up, Marine."

"Fuucck..."

"No cumming for you without permission anymore, grunt."

"Fuck, Sir..."

"You're my cum cow, remember?"

"Yes, Sir, I've never been this close to a guy's hard dick before..."

"I'm sure of that, Brandon; after all, you're straight," Roger acknowledged. "That's why I'm taking such care to be patient and educate you properly. I know you appreciate that. You do, don't you?

"Yes, Sir! Of course!" The young Marine instantly agreed.

"You're going to take on some additional duties around here. Things that are more fitting for a horny guy like you."

Reaching down and wrapping his right hand around the super sensitive, precum-wet head of the straight young desperate to cum Marine's cock, Roger looked deeply into Brandon's eyes and ordered, "Press those perfect lips of yours to the tip of my cockhead you said is so big, right at the tip, Marine, as if you are kissing it."

Hesitation and silence, while Lance Corporal Brandon McNalley shivered under the exquisite pleasure shooting up through his hard cock through his body, not wanting it to ever stop while terrified by the thought of kissing a man's cock. Then Roger's fingers released his penis... the pleasure stopped... and Lance Corporal Brandon McNalley's lips kissed their first cock.

"Good boy, Brandon... you're a very good boy," Roger assured him as his pre-slick palm began to twirl around the head of Brandon's leaking penis again.

As Roger's fist, lubricated by precum constantly burped out in big, thick belches by Brandon's overheated penis, rotated and slid smoothly up and down the length of the kneeling until a moment ago still technically straight young Marine's slavish cock, the commanding officer of Roger Squad whispered encouragement.

"Oh yeah... that's right, chew on the underside of that big cock, Marine, like it's a delicious ear of corn... but real lightly, like you're trying not to damage any of those tender kernels," Roger instructed as Brandon held his cock up against his tilted face and moved his kissing, sucking, nibbling mouth up and down along its underside while looking up into Roger's eyes.

Releasing Brandon's cock and leaning back on the bed on his elbows so he could watch the innately slutty young Marine wallow deeper and deeper in his own degradation, Roger gave his new Corporal Cocksucker permission to do the thing he loved most.

"Now kiss, lick, and then suck on my balls while you stroke your dick for me, Masturbator, but don't you even think of cumming without my permission. My handsome Masturbator doesn't cum without permission anymore," Roger told Brandon as the Marine's fist flew to his abandoned dick as he groaned out the most enticing surrender.

"Ummmm..."

"One thing's sure, Marine, you were telling the truth earlier when you told me you were a masturbating young slut," Roger acknowledged as he reached down, cupped the back of Brandon's head, and pulled his handsome face tight against his spit-covered balls.

"You look damn good down there licking and sucking on my balls, Marine, but I think we both know you'd rather be back up there on my cock. Ain't that right?" Roger asked as Brandon was sucking on his left nut.

The recently straight, kneeling, balls-sucking young Marine emitted a confused sound from deep in his throat, accompanied by a squint of his eyes and light furrowing of his forehead to convey the obligatory indication that he wasn't sure.

"Move your mouth up to the base of my cock and see how comfortable you are there, or would you prefer to stop jacking off?"

Lance Corporal Brandon McNalley would do anything to be able to keep masturbating. Roger had hardly stopped speaking when Brandon's lips locked themselves around his cock.

"See, I said you were a good boy, Brandon. Now let me see how well a straight guy can suck a dick. Then we'll work on your technique. And, Marine, I like a lot of tongue on the underside near the head. Now get to work, and remember, stroke to the edge but do not cum."

Brandon sucked Roger's cock until well after dawn that night. He swallowed three loads. The first one was hard for the young grunt; he gagged, coughed, retched, but he kept it down. After that, he developed a taste for Roger's jizz. Being the good guy that he is, Roger let the young Marine cum each time he unloaded in his mouth. That became Brandon's new trigger, Roger's cum splashing against the opening to his throat and the roof of his mouth. On another visit soon after, Roger introduced Lance Corporal McNalley to a multi-purpose bench he had made a while back. Its milking function was almost purpose-designed for the young cum cow Marine.

***

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