Date: Sun, 11 Jan 2015 03:56:18 +0000 (UTC)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: ROBERT. E. LEE ACADEMY 3
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This story involves homosexual activity between high school age boys. If
you object to such, or if you are underage, please read no further.
Please also let me hear from you. It means a lot to know whether you like
my stories or not. Reach me at macoutmann@yahoo.com. Enjoy (I hope).
A YEAR AT
ROBERT E. LEE ACADEMY
by Macout Mann
CHARACTERS PREVIOUSLY INTRODUCED
Cadets
Barefield, (C. Sgt.) Carol, 16 Squad Leader, Room 110, Messes around
Bascom, Rory, 17 Care-free non-militarist, Room 112
Baumgartner, Drew, 13 Son of Army Major, Room 110
Calhoon, Elliot, 13 Bright kid, from Kentucky, Room 211
Chesterton, Dean 16 Top scholar, Room 211
Farrier, Scott 15 Newly tough, Room 212
Fulton, Patrick, 14 Tough Juvenile Delinquent, Room 212
Gunnerston, Richard, 12 Gay from Iowa, Room 216
Hammond, William, 17 Tough, Room 212
Hardcastle, Elbert, 12 Baptist Preacher's Boy, Room 110
Harwood, Kenneth, 16 Very bright, Room 112
Humphreys, Fredrick 15 Real scholar, Room 211
MacMillan, Creighton, 15 Socialite's disciplined son, Room 112
McNeil, (C. Lt. Col.) Benjamin, 16 Deputy Battalion Commander
Menifee, (C. Sgt.) Jason, 17 Squad Leader, Room 212, Tough guy
Montgomery, Jack, 15 Room 216
Muggeridge, Clayton, 15 Room 216
Spencer, (C. Col.) Wallace, 17 Battalion Commander
Stephens, Rex, 15 Room 110
Stone, Frank 14 Jock, Room 211
Thatcher, Marion, 13 Bully, Room 216
Walton, Thomas, 14 Eager to please, Room 112
Witherspoon, (C. Capt.) John, 17 Captain, Company B
Adults
Baumgartner, (Maj.) Stefan Drew Baumgartner's father
Pugh, (The Rev'd Cdr.) Ellis Chaplain
Southerland, (Col.) Malcolm Superintendant/Headmaster
Chapter III
Saturday Night
The day after the Evening Chapel Service, classes began. It was a Tuesday.
The rest of the week the new'uns became accustomed to the routine, became
acquainted with their instructors, and most of them discovered that
academically they had a lot of catching up to do.
During the week Gunnerston was fucked by all three of his roommates. They
were surprisingly gentle, given how he had been teased at the beginning.
It was immediately apparent, however, that military school was not "going
to scare the queer out of him."
Fulton continued to be a horse's ass. Being given "the silent treatment"
by the whole squad didn't help. It probably would have been better if
Menifee's threats on Day One had been carried out. His attitude also was
earning him the enmity of his instructors. There was an unwritten rule,
which most new'uns absorbed through simple observation, that language in
academic classes was always gentlemanly. Fulton didn't get the message.
As smart as he was, Calhoon discovered that he was woefully behind in all
his classes. His scholarly roommates promised to remedy that, because they
recognized how bright the young Kentuckian was. He was also remarkably
handsome with an open face, dark wavy hair, and the musculature that can
only be gained by manual labor at an early age.
In Room 110, Baumgartner was fitting in well with Barefield and Stephens.
Hardcastle was still the odd-man-way-out. He couldn't adjust to the casual
nakedness, the coarse language, or what he figured was happening after
lights-out. It was a new world, and he couldn't adjust. Gym classes and
especially the locker room horseplay freaked him out. He couldn't bring
himself to pick out a sport to pursue. He wrote his father, begging to be
allowed to come home.
Of course it was late August and hot. Lee Academy would not have air
conditioning for another fifteen years. And its term began a week or two
before most other schools started and lasted at least a week after theirs'
ended. Commodore Carter had not believed in excessive vacation time, and
most of his cadets' families had never needed the boys to help out on the
farm at harvest time.
So when "in quarters" almost all the cadets were always in some state of
undress. Windows were always open. In Room 110, Barefield was always
naked, Stephens close behind, and Baumgartner was at least shirtless.
Sometimes even Hardcastle removed his khaki shirt and wore only his
undershirt. Also every night Baumgartner jacked off to the sounds of what
was happening on the other side of the room.
Hardcastle did seem to find a kindred spirit in English class. The cadet
was also in his History class. His name was Herbert Lindstrom. He was
quiet, not quite six feet tall and seemed uncomfortable in class. They had
spoken briefly. At Lindstrom's urging they had exchanged
addresses--Lindstrom was in Forrest House--and they promised to get
together during "free time" Saturday.
Lindstrom was from Charleston, the son of an attorney. He was a wiry
blond, and had a nice build, which he'd developed from swimming and
golfing. Being from Charleston, he was not totally naïve, like
Hardcastle, but the academy was also a new world to him. He had always
been a loner, except that back home he had had one special buddy.
He and Hardcastle met Saturday afternoon and soon decided to be friends.
Then Hardcastle really bared his soul. Almost cried.
Lindstrom did his best to comfort his new buddy. He put his arm around
Hardcastle and said it was always best to take things as they come. "I
don't like everything that's going on either, but we'd both best get used
to it. And not everything is as bad as it seems. You'll see."
Taps was an hour later on Saturday. Both Barefield and Stephens were
bareassed, lounging on their bunks. Baumgartner was in his undershorts.
"You know, Drew," Barefield grined, "we hear you beating off every night.
You may as well come over and have some real fun with us." He emphasized
his point by hefting his six inch wiener lewdly.
"Might as well," Baumgartner replied. "I've been wondering what it'd be
like." He stood, unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to the floor.
Stephens also got up and went over to where Hardcastle was sitting.
Without warning he fondled the twelve-year-old and said, "You may as well
get in on the action too, Elbert. Gotta get started sometime."
"No!" Hardcastle almost screamed. "That's wrong!"
Stephens let go and laughingly responded, "Well, after you've watched a few
times, curiosity will get the best of you. Nothing feels better, man."
Now sitting on the side of his bunk, Barefield was already playing with
Baumgartner's hardening tool.
"That does feel good," Baumgartner panted.
"Not nearly as good as this," Barefield said. He gobbled down
Baumgartner's five-inch prong.
"Oh yes," the younger boy responded.
Stephens had come up behind Baumgartner, planted his now-hard shaft against
the butt of his companion, reached around and began to tweak his now-rigid
nipples. "See what you've been missing," Stephens moaned.
As he watched from across the room, Hardcastle's dick stiffened much
against his will, and in his frustration he buried his face in his pillow
so as not to see the abomination playing out in front of him.
Meanwhile Stephens sank to his knees, and said, "My turn."
Barefield came off of Baumgartner's dick and turned him around. Stephens'
mouth immediately replaced Barefield's. Then Barefield spread the virgin's
cheeks and began to tongue his hole.
"Goddamn!" Baumgartner cried. "I'm goanna cum!"
He gave no thought to what was happening, until he realized that he had
squirted a huge load into Stephens' mouth. Stephens had taken it all, and
rivulets of cum were dripping from the corners of his mouth.
A weak-kneed Baumgartner collapsed on Barefield's bunk, and he heard
Barefield say, "Let me have a taste."
Barefield reached out and scooped cum from Stephens' chin. "Don't taste
bad for kiddie cum," he said. Then he stood up and said, "Now you gotta do
us."
Baumgartner hadn't completely thought through what he was getting himself
into, but in his present state of euphoria, he would have done anything he
was told to do. He got on his knees, opened his mouth, and welcomed the
organ that was being shoved into it.
"Careful of your teeth," Barefield cautioned.
As Baumgartner sucked on Barefield, Stephens lapped his ass, even
penetrating Barefield's rosebud with his tongue. "Yeah, suck that dick;
eat that ass; make me jizz," Barefield chanted.
As his climax neared Barefield grabbed Baumgartner's ears and began to fuck
his face, moaning "yes, yes, yes," until one of the biggest orgasms he'd
had since he came to the academy exploded into the throat of the new'un.
Baumgartner didn't find the eruption unpleasant, and this time was not
surprised that Stephens wanted to share the cream dripping from his lips.
Stephens immediately got on his own bunk and stretched out on his back.
"I'd rather lie down and have you on top of me," he told Baumgartner.
The younger boy obediently climbed between Stephens' legs and tasted his
sausage for the first time. By now it was coated with both sweat and
precum, so it gave Baumgartner a new taste sensation. He also found that
he had to do more work, since Stephens' hips were not assisting in the
enterprise, but he also found that he had more control and could manipulate
the rhythm of his movements. Not to be outdone, Barefield was also sitting
on the edge of the bunk. He had poured Jergens Lotion on his index finger
and was plunging it in and out of Baumgartner's ass.
To Baumgartner it seemed like forever, but actually after only two or three
minutes he was rewarded by squirt after squirt of Stephens' semen. It
seemed to have a different taste from Barefield's. Baumgartner wondered if
everybody's tasted different.
The three of them lay sprawled together on the narrow bunk. "I can't wait
to fuck your ass," Barefield told Baumgartner. "Tonight you can just
watch."
"My turn tonight," Stephens giggled.
A few minutes later Stephens coated his dick with Jergens, positioned
Barefield with his legs on Stephens' shoulders, and rammed his pole up the
Cadet Sergeant's ass. Baumgartner watched in fascination. He had received
a year's education in just one hour with still more to experience.
Stephens probed Barefield's anus slowly, pulling back until only his glans
penetrated his partner, then plunged down, until his teenaged pubes stroked
Barefield's cheeks. Then he accelerated his thrusts, pounding away, until
he reached the short strokes that terminated in still another orgasm.
Across the room, Hardcastle, realizing what was happening, couldn't resist
steeling a peak at the erotic scene.
Next door in Room 112, the occupants were also not unaware what was going
on.
"`Bare-backed' seems to be being barebacked," laughed Bascom, the almost
naked sixth-former.
"Well I can see you're almost as horny as I am," ventured Harwood.
"Fucking heat this week's made us all fucking horntoads." He was also
wearing only undershorts with a gaping opening.
"So I guess I need to get my ass greased up," fourteen-year-old Tom Walton
said.
"You need to get off, Cray?" Harwood asked MacMillan.
"I guess, but I gotta admit. I've watched guys fuck each other, but I
never did it myself."
"Always a first time," Bascom responds. "The way we've always done it is
that we all get to fuck the young'un here, then we draw straws to see who
he gets to fuck. So you'll only have a one-in-three chance of losing your
cherry tonight."
"But little Tommy Walton will have a one-in-three chance to pop a virgin,"
Harwood laughed.
"So Walton always has to take all three of us?" MacMillan asks.
"No, we're fair minded," Bascom answers. "Whoever Walton gets to fuck
tonight, gets fucked by him and the rest of us the next time we mess
around.
"Are you in?"
"Sure, if the rest of you are."
MacMillan was lucky. He didn't choose the short straw. Walton was a short
redhead, but like a lot of small guys he had a huge dick. MacMillan wasn't
looking forward to getting stuck with that.
MacMillan's had been the third dick to penetrate Walton's ass, however. It
had been well lubricated with cum, and Walton felt no pain when McMillan's
prong plunged into his colon. MacMillan couldn't believe that he
previously had denied himself so much pleasure.
The mood was quite different in Room 212. Fulton had been particularly
obnoxious, calling everybody he met an asshole. Menifee decided the time
had come for his first real lesson. He had alerted Hammond and Farrier to
what he was going to do.
They were all lounging around in undershorts. "Did you clean the fucking
latrine, Fulton?" he asked. That was the room's duty assignment today, and
it was Fulton's turn.
"Nah, shithead," Fulton spat. "I aint wiping up everybody's piss."
Menifee stood up and pushed his shorts off and strode over to where Fulton
was sitting. His tool grew with every step. "I'd hoped that you'd get the
picture, motherfucker," he yelled. "But I told you you were going to get
fucked, and now goddamit you are!"
He grabbed Fulton, pushed him back onto his bunk, and pulled his shorts
down, leaving him exposed but with his undershorts restricting the movement
of his legs. Fulton tried to struggle, but the other two cadets made it
clear they were prepared to hold him down, if he didn't yield.
Menifee showed that he didn't need help. His strong hands made Fulton's
shoulders immobile. His own shoulders forced Fulton's legs into the air,
as he rammed forward and stuffed his dry pole into Fulton's dry ass and
began to hump.
"Aaugh," Fulton cried. Tears streamed down his face.
"How....do you like....getting raped, motherfucker?" Menifee panted. "It
didn't....have to be....this way. But since....you're such a
wiseass,....you're probably used to it,....aint ya?"
"N....no! Please stop!"
"Not until....I've filled your ass....with cum, motherfucker."
Menifee pounded Fulton relentlessly, faster and faster, harder and harder,
until he sent rope after rope of manseed into the younger boy's rectum and
collapsed on top of him until his own dick had deflated.
When Menifee moved away, Fulton wanted to fight, even if he got the shit
beat out of him, but he didn't have the strength even to try. He just lay
back, totally humiliated. But his agony wasn't over yet.
"Now sit up," Sgt. Menifee ordered. "You need cum down your throat too.
"Suck Hammond and Farrier both off. And if you try to bite, even a little
bit, I'll hold you down and they'll tear up your ass just like I did."
Both of the other guys had already stripped and were playing with
themselves as they watched Fulton being deflowered. Hammond immediately
walked over and snarled, "Eat me, asshole, and watch your fucking teeth."
Fulton's rear end hurt so much he was not about to refuse.
Actually, although like he had said at the beginning, he was not gay, this
wasn't his first time to be fucked. He had been similarly abused by two
older boys, when he was eleven. But that hadn't been vicious, like this
was. And he had also made other boys suck him off. But he'd never sucked
before. So in a way, this was more demeaning than being had by Menifee.
After both boys had fed him, Fulton was allowed to watch and learn. "Now,
shit-for-brains," Menifee said, "You need to see how you could have been
fucked, if you'd been a good boy."
Farrier was the volunteer. He and Menifee demonstrated the fine art of
foreplay, and he gave himself to the sergeant for a sexual session
satisfying to both of them.
Fulton couldn't believe that the guy who'd just taken him down would let a
younger boy do what Farrier did.
For some reason, the nerds in Room 211 seemed content to relieve themselves
with their fists. Frank Stone, the football player, had said the coach had
told them not to beat their meat, but he did it anyway. And sometimes he
was summoned to the room of Baxter Johnston, the Football Team Captain.
Johnston was a sixth-former and a Platoon Leader in Company C, which was
berthed in Pickering House. He shared a room with the other platoon leader
and the Company Commander. There were several members of the football team
who really liked dick, and Johnston liked to give them the opportunity to
get together with him and his roommates. Tonight was Stone's turn.
The team captain and the other officers were always tops. They didn't even
mess around together. That would be unmasculine.
Stone had to be in uniform to leave Farragut and cross over to Pickering
House. When he arrived at their room the guys he was to visit were already
naked. The Company Commander was absent. He participated occasionally to
show he was "one of the boys," but more often went to the library. It
stayed open until fifteen-minutes before taps.
It took Stone only a couple of minutes to also get bareassed. Johnston
told his companion to go first. "I already came once today," he said.
"It'll take me awhile."
Johnston was a fullback, Stone a lineman. Both were over 200 pounds.
Fletcher Patterson, the other Company C platoon leader, was just the
opposite. Barely 140, only 5 ft. 5, he still boasted a huge dick that
curved slightly upward. It was already rock hard.
Obedient as always, Stone knelt and received the rod Patterson offered.
Patterson loved these benefits, that is those that come from being a
platoon leader. Otherwise, he was sure he'd be the sucker rather than the
suckee.
Stone sucked. Just sucked. It wasn't long before Patterson squirted
another gift down his throat. "Fuck, yeah!" Patterson had cried.
Then Johnston offered his dick to his willing and subservient teammate.
His dick wasn't as big around as Patterson's, but it was longer and
straighter. Stone chomped down on it, being careful to let it feel only
lips and tongue, no teeth. He'd learned how to please back before he came
to the academy.
Likewise, as Johnston's older brother had taught him, he realized that
after he'd cum once, he could make subsequent encounters last as long as he
chose. Stone was still bouncing on Johnston's still rigid rod, when the
Company Commander arrived from the library.
"Get him off, cadet, and get back to quarters before taps, or you know
what'll happen to your ass," Stone was told.
Johnston allowed his dick to spill. It had been a neat almost-half-hour.
Stone put his uniform back on, said "Thank you, sir," and reached Farragut
House just before taps was played.
A half hour later in the darkness of Room 216 Gunnerston felt a body slide
into the bunk next to him. A voice whispered, "I know you think we've
taken advantage of you, but I'll do whatever you'd like me to do."
The Robert E. Lee Military Academy....on Saturday night.