by John Simpson
Chapter One
CORY ANDERSON had graduated from high school just three months prior to the day he left to report for classes at the Patton Military Institute for Higher Education. He was enrolled in the freshman class of 2014 and was full of anticipation and eagerness. The college was a typical military-style school, from which—if you were lucky—you graduated with an undergraduate degree that would help you enter one of the branches of the United States Armed Forces as an officer candidate.
After checking in with the Admin office, he was assigned to freshman quarters in the first-year barracks. When Cory found his room assignment, he discovered his new roommate had already arrived and claimed the right side of the room, leaving Cory the left side.
“Hi, Cory Anderson,” he said as he introduced himself.
“Hi, Cory, Blaine Edwards. I guess we’re roommates for the year, huh?”
“Yep, sure looks that way. I understand we’re to unpack and report to the parade ground in one hour.”
“That’s right, so we better get a move on.”
The two eighteen-year-old men quickly filled their drawers and lockers and arrived on the parade ground five minutes before the deadline. As they looked around, they saw what appeared to be the entire freshman class forming on the square of level ground.
As everyone introduced themselves to their neighbors while they waited, Cory spied a half dozen uniforms headed their way.
“Here they come!”
The six arrivals consisted of the commandant of the school, the Commander of Cadets, and barracks sergeants. The commandant spoke first after the men were called to attention. The commandant was a retired two-star Army general. The others were drawn from the ranks of the cadets and changed yearly.
“Welcome to the General George Patton Military Institute for Higher Education. While here, you will be given the best education possible combined with military training, and you will gain some experience of what life in the military will be like, for those of you who go on to enter our armed forces. Part of your training will consist of intense physical conditioning that will bring your young bodies to their peak of fitness. After this orientation, you will fall out in order to undergo a physical exam in the campus medical facility.
“While here, you will give one hundred percent of yourself to the entire program, because that’s what it takes to graduate in four years. As of today, you are subject to an honor code that is unbreakable. I urge you to build close relationships with the other cadets, because you will be brothers-in-arms. You are also subject to the discipline that is enforced at this school. The Commander of Cadets is responsible for ensuring the discipline program is fair and applied without prejudice or favor.
“Those of you who cannot take the program you are about to enter upon are encouraged to withdraw and leave campus. For those who make it all the way, I can promise you a bright future in whatever you decide to do.
“Now, I turn you over to the Commander of Cadets. This role is filled by a different man each year—a senior cadet who is chosen because he is at the very top of his graduating class. His staff are juniors, and in some cases, sophomores.
“And now I give you the brigade commander, Captain Wilson.”
The captain stepped up and began to speak. “Each barracks will have its sergeant, and he will be in immediate command of all who are quartered in that barracks. He holds that rank on the parade ground as well. When you report for physical training, he will be your PT instructor.
“The sergeant also plays a role in the discipline process here on campus. The sergeant reports to the lieutenant on who committed what infraction of the rules and regulations, along with a recommendation for punishment. The lieutenant approves all discipline up to corporal punishment. Any case that carries the recommendation for physical punishment must be approved by me. Expulsion also must be approved by the school commandant.
“Corporal punishment will consist of strokes from a paddle or belt applied to the offender’s posterior. The maximum number of strokes during any one session is ten. If you are ordered to take more than ten, the remainder will be administered the following evening. All punishment is administered before the barracks assembly. Only on rare occasions will there be corporal punishment administered in private.
“That’s all for now; you will follow your sergeant to the medical facility for your exams. After the exams, you will be issued uniforms and other gear. This will be followed by chow. Any questions, ask your sergeant.”
The ranks were called to attention and then dismissed into the charge of their sergeants. The freshman class occupied two barracks, which consisted of forty men per. Instead of simply walking to the medical facility, the grunts, as they were called, were formed up and marched. Everywhere they went, they marched. Only on weekends would they be allowed to simply walk to non-military functions.
As they stood in line, each waiting for his turn with the medical team, the men stripped to their shorts and socks. There was no talking allowed, and when the occasional guy forgot, he got a demerit from the sergeant. No one really understood the demerit structure yet, but they had no doubt that it would be explained to them… in detail.
Everyone passed the physical exam, pending blood and urine test results. The men were then marched to the quartermaster’s office, where uniforms were issued to each grunt. With arms full of standard-issue items, they were marched back to their barracks and told to stow their gear and climb into one of their fatigue uniforms.
Once in uniform, they returned to the parade ground.
Cory’s sergeant was Derrick McDonald, a tough, no-nonsense, very mature, black-haired, blue-eyed beautiful man who couldn’t have been more than twenty.
“Okay, listen up!” Sergeant McDonald bellowed. “You will now have a short run. You will hit that path behind you, run one full lap around the parade ground, and return to your position here. You will stand in the same spot that I’m now going to put you in, day in and day out. I will quickly know where you belong in the ranks, and you’d better remember it. Now, line up according to size. Move it!”
As the men scattered, judged who was the tallest and regrouped into a formation, they passed their first test at thinking and group cooperation.
“Dress right dress!” McDonald yelled.
As no one knew what that command meant, no one moved. After some quick demonstrations, the order was given again, and the men moved so that they were equal distance from each other.
“You will now take your lap around the parade ground and return to the positions you are in. Hit the path!”
The men made their one round of the parade ground running and returned to their places. No one fouled up and the sergeant smiled.
“Now, we’ll hit the chow hall, and then you have the rest of the evening to yourselves. Lights out at ten o’clock. No exceptions. Every night before lights out, you will shower and clean your bodies thoroughly. A man who smells will not be tolerated and will be dealt with harshly. Your mother is not here to remind you to clean behind your ears, so act like a man and be responsible for your hygiene.
“The first thing you will do upon entering the barracks is read the schedule that is now posted on the bulletin board. From ten o’clock until six a.m., you will man a fire watch. That means that you will all pull guard duty in the barracks every night. Your detail will last one hour, and you will be responsible for waking your relief. Any questions, see me in the barracks.”
The men were then marched to the chow hall for dinner. The minds of almost all the men were spinning from all the information that had been thrown at them since arriving on campus. More than a few were stuck on thoughts of getting what sounded like spankings from their superiors. Most of them were very nervous
about the idea of being spanked like little kids, though one or two were positively enthralled with the thought of having their pants taken down in front of all the cute guys of their platoon.
Cory was one of the enthralled. Just thinking about it gave him a hard-on, which he adjusted to make less noticeable. He couldn’t help wonder about the fine details of that kind of punishment. Would it be with pants up or down? Did the men get to choose which they wanted—the paddle or the belt?
They ate what turned about to be a very good dinner and headed back to the barracks. Before they entered the building, someone pointed out a statement etched in the archway over the door.
“There is only one type of discipline, perfect discipline.”
—General Patton
Reading that phrase got a chuckle out of some of the guys, including Cory. Once inside, everyone headed to the central television lounge to watch the evening news. Cory decided to finish making his half of his quarters as comfortable as possible. While Blaine was out, Cory looked over what Blaine had brought with him from home. Everything was what a typical eighteen-year-old would bring, and Cory learned nothing interesting about his roommate from the baggage. He was tempted to take a sneak peek in Blaine’s underwear drawer but resisted. If he were caught, there was no explanation that would suffice.
Later, about an hour before lights out, everyone began to head to the communal showers that were on each end of the barracks. Just as in the military, it was one large room with showerheads lining the walls, and everyone was busy washing. Cory took a quick look around at all the guys and was struck by how good looking they were and how well built they already were, even before their physical training.
Cory had no problem minding his own business until his roommate walked in like he owned the showers. Cory saw several guys checking Blaine out, and Cory turned under the stream of water as if he were rinsing his back. He curiously took a quick look at his roommate and was stunned.
Blaine had the body of a fitness model, the ass of a Greek god, and the dick one would normally find on a porn star. It was obvious that Blaine was eating up the attention, since he made sure everyone got a good look while he stood motionless under the spray, staring at the shower floor. Eventually, he turned around and actually washed himself.
Cory finished up and headed out to the towel rack. After drying off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went back to the room with his head swimming. It was one thing to maybe be gay; it was another to have to live with every gay boy’s dream sleeping eight feet away and be unable to touch him. Life wasn’t fair sometimes, and this was sure shaping up to be one of those times.
Cory slipped on a pair of underwear, set his alarm, and climbed into bed. He had checked the duty roster, and he was not on guard duty that night. He could plan on getting eight good hours of sleep before the start of classes the next morning.
The door swung open, and in strolled Blaine. When he saw Cory already in bed, he locked the door behind him. Walking over to his mirror by his desk, he combed his hair. He then dropped his towel to the floor as he turned to talk to Cory.
“Did you see how all the guys were staring at me in the shower? Must be a lot of gay guys in this barracks.”
“How do you know they were looking at you? You were staring at the floor the whole time,” Cory said in a semi-catty way.
“Oh? How did you see that unless you were looking at me too?” Blaine asked with a slight smile.
“I wasn’t staring at you. I turned to rinse off my back, and you were directly across from me. I saw you were looking at the floor, that’s all.”
“Okay, cool. Well, still… lots of guys were checking my meat out.”
“They might have been checking it out, but more than likely not because any of them actually wanted to play with it. Guys naturally check themselves out against other guys to see how they compare in that department. That’s just being a guy.”
“And how do you check out against me?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look at your dick.”
“Well, look now,” he said as he took a couple of steps closer to Cory until his dick was hanging over Cory’s face.
“It’s big, no doubt. All it means, though, is that you got the right genetic code for a big dick. Now your brain might be smaller to make up for it, who knows? I’d also imagine some girls might not want to get near it because it is that big.”
Blaine chuckled. “Yeah, I thank my dad every night when I go to sleep.”
“Well, enough about your dick. I’m going to sleep,” Cory said as he rolled over and faced the wall. He made sure to hide his very normal, average-size erection that had sprung up when Blaine invited him to make an inspection of his equipment. This was going to be a tough year. Of all the roommates he could have gotten, he had to get the one with a big ego and the biggest dick of the barracks.
THE alarm clock went off exactly at five fifteen the next morning, and Cory and Blaine sprang out of bed, both with morning wood, which Cory attempted to conceal. Blaine didn’t bother since he had gone to bed naked. They slipped on running shorts, grabbed their bathroom gear, and headed out to shave and brush their teeth.
Back in their room, they quickly dressed in their standard dressed-down gray uniforms with no rank on the sleeves. They checked themselves out in the full-length mirror on the back of the door and exited the barracks to get to the parade ground on time at six a.m.
Three guys were late for roll call, and demerits were issued to each of them. The schedule for the day was announced, and they were dismissed for breakfast at the chow hall. They were due in class at seven fifteen with a full day of lessons that ended at three fifteen, followed by a change of clothes and PT.
Once again, the cadets ate well, and no one left the chow hall unhappy. Classes commenced and the daily schedule was well under way. This wouldn’t alter much until the second half of their senior year, when more in the way of military requirements would be added to their routine.
By the end of the day, the cadets were tired. They had put in a full day of classes, been put through the demanding physical training, and had barely made it back to their rooms where they collapsed on their beds. Even ego-driven Blaine was quiet as he tried to catch his breath. As their heart rates began to calm down, they heard someone yell in the hall: “Inspection!”
Cory and Blaine sat up on their beds looking at one another as if they were trying to decipher some code word. A moment later, a banging on their door caught them off guard, and then the door opened and their barracks sergeant entered their room.
“When inspection is announced, you will stand at attention at the foot of your beds and remain so unless told to move or asked a question. I will now inspect your room.”
Both men had a clothes locker to store their uniforms and boots. This was the first location that came under inspection. Cory heard the sergeant sigh, and then clothes began to fly over the sergeant’s shoulder to land on the desks and floor. The sergeant swept everything off the desktop onto the floor. He opened Cory’s dresser drawers and dumped out every single item of clothing before throwing the drawers down on top of the heap. He noticed Blaine snickering. Mistake.
“What the fuck are you laughing at, Edwards? You think this is funny somehow? You think because your roommate fucked up that you’re free to laugh at him? Is that it, puke? We are supposed to be a team, and teammates help their fellow teammates make the grade. Do you understand me?” The sergeant shouted so loudly that men in other rooms heard him.
“Yeah, I heard ya,” Blaine replied.
“Five demerits for addressing your barracks sergeant in an incorrect manner.”
The sergeant then turned and opened the locker doors. Grabbing the locker by the sides, he overturned it, spewing the entire contents across the room. He did the same thing with Blaine’s drawers, desktop, and locker.
“You have each failed inspection and will receive five demerits. That’s an additional five demerits for you, Edwards! Now,
in the top drawer of your desks you should have found a sheet called ‘The Organization Chart’. This chart tells you how to hang your uniforms, how to fold the clothes that are to go into your dressers, and how your desktops are to look when you are not sitting at your desk. When you put this shithole back together again, it better be according to ‘The Organization Chart’. Is that clear, you boneheads?”
“Yes, Sergeant!” both men shouted.
The barracks sergeant looked at both men once more and then spoke in a quiet voice. “You have also made your beds incorrectly. Refer to said chart.”
With that, he left and entered the next room like a tornado as Blaine and Cory stared at the utter disaster their room had become.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Blaine asked in shock.
“I’d say we were just inspected,” Cory said with a chuckle.
“Fucking guy is crazy. Shit!”
“Well, we have homework tonight, so I suggest we get this room together so we can study later. And let’s follow the damn chart!”
AN HOUR later, the room was back together and hopefully in accordance with the requirements of the school. Since it was only a matter of four hours until bedtime, they let the beds go. Cory ventured out into the hallway to see if he heard anything, but all was quiet on the Western front. Some of the guys began to exit their rooms, many with stunned looks on their faces. The sergeant had made a definite impression on the young men of the freshman class of 2014.
Just before shower time, the sergeant re-entered the barracks and called everyone into the “dayroom,” which was what they called the television lounge. When all forty men had finally arrived, the sergeant went off on another tirade.
“When I, or any of my superior officers, call a barracks assembly in the dayroom, you will get your asses in here as fast as you can. You will have no more than ninety seconds to be inside the physical confines of the dayroom. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” everyone yelled.
