So much to remember! Jimmy had never been the brightest fellow. He did well in school, but lacked focus on his studies. He’d always preferred sports and physical activity to sitting around and staring at books–or what everyone else seemed to call reading. When he’d talked to the recruiter, it had just made sense, right? But the memory was fuzzy, and the harder he tried to focus on it, more it seemed to warp. At first, he could remember the recuriter as a tall, handsome stud, the perfect soldier, exactly the kind of person Jimmy had always aspired to be–but was that right? He could remember something else. A stuffy room, a big man, reeking of sweat, stripping off his shirt, seeing how quickly Jimmy would fall under his spell…
The memory shifted then–it didn’t matter all that much, he had decided. He was here, at boot camp, where he was supposed to be. Where he had always wanted to be. He was eighteen, not very bright but diligent and appreciative of authority. He stepped off the bus with the other young recruits, most of them similar to him. Athletes, mostly football. Not particularly clever, but hard headed and plenty determined. They would all serve their…their country?
He looked around, up at the flagpole, but it was empty–like a void in his memory. Who was he serving? What was he serving?
Jimmy thrashed a bit, in his sleep, perhaps realizing what had happened for a moment in some recess of his mind. He was sweating profusely, the smell more intense than his usual musk. It was starting already. The virus calmed him down, settled his body back into sleep–there was still so much to remember.
With the other recruits, he was filed through orientation. Their hair shaved down, their bunks assigned. They would see officers on occasion, and instructors, but there was something…wrong with them. Their uniforms were messy, if they bothered wearing something resembling a uniform at all. They were bulky, and obviously strong–but fat as well, big thick guts and chests and necks, all of them hairy as well. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, his mind said, but that was the way it had to be–it was the way he remembered it, right? Eventually, they were lined up, and Drill Sergeant Maco strode up and down the line, stripped down to a pair of olive shorts and a sweat soaked undershirt, and this close to him, his musk was unlike anything he had ever smelled before (except for in that stuffy office, except for that man, that man he’d–served, no worshiped?)
Jimmy wasn’t the first one to give in–that was another recruit Jimmy had gotten to know by the name of Kingston. He snorted suddenly, and fell forward onto his hands and knees, drooling, crawling over to where Sergeant Maco was standing, nuzzling at the man’s crotch, obviously hungry for something. Without even addressing the rest of the young men, Maco opened his fly, and fed the eager recruit his cock. Jimmy was horrified, and couldn’t stop wondering if it might taste different from that…other man’s, wondering if it would taste better, or…
No, this wasn’t right, this wasn’t right!
Jimmy was thrashing again, trying to rebel, trying to force his way out of the dream. He was sweating more now, his clothes soaked through, his body thickening with muscle, remembering now how he had been when he’d been young, remembering how he’d stood in the hot sun, inches from the sergeant now, trying not to give in, trying to fight it as hard as he could, but he’d given in, hadn’t he? They all had, he could almost remember it, but maybe…maybe he hadn’t.
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Update: some people are having problem with the embedded poll! If this is you, go ahead and use this link–it should work over on the site.