brandon robertson


Stephen Hebert looked out the window at the courtyard of the Academy. From his third story window, he had an unobstructed view of the entire campus of Daigrepont Military Academy. To his left were the barracks, the students' dormitories. The four barracks each housed twenty nine bunks; twenty five students and four student monitors. At present, only one barrack was being used. It was early June, the 'Summer School' session.

Directly across from his window was the cafeteria, the mess hall. During the summer session, the students, under the watchful eyes and tutelage of the student monitors would rotate KP duties. Four of the seventeen students would actually rouse at four thirty and prepare the meals. After all seventeen students and four monitors had eaten, four would begin cleaning the pots and trays. Four would clean the mess hall, and the remaining four would return to the barracks to clean their sleeping quarters. At six o'clock, all seventeen students would be outside for morning calisthenics, capped with a two mile run.

Run. Not walk. Not jog. Run. The four monitors would give the seventeen boys a fifteen second head start. Then woe be to the boy or boys that the monitors were able to pass. The unfortunate boy or boys would have to run another two miles. Run. Not walk, not job, but run.

The extra boy, Victor Roberts was a new recruit. He had been sent to Daigrepont because his grades had not been good enough for him to graduate from Paulton High School in Paulton, Louisiana. And, he'd been caught up in a high school prank with a group of his peers that had resulted in a teacher's home being damaged. There had been other boys involved, but all had turned a finger, pointing to the eighteen year old Victor Roberts as the main culprit.

"Should have the whole lot of them in here," Stephen thought as he watched the seventeen students milling in the courtyard.

Stephen had no doubt that the other boys had been the one to instigate the incident. And when it had gone wrong, rather than man up, take the blame, they simply ratted out the weakest link in their ragtag chain.

Victor Roberts was a chubby young man; his penchant for sweets quite evident. The severe buzz cut the academy had given to the young man, over Victor's tears and objections actually looked quite good on the young man, showed off his cherubic good looks, his cupid bow mouth.

Stephen smiled tightly. He could see Victor in front of the other youths. Even though he could not hear them, he could see Victor performing some sort of silly posturing. Stephen could see the other youths laughing at Victor's antics.

"Son, one day, you'll learn. There's a difference between people laughing AT you or people laughing WITH you," Stephen said out loud.

Victor put his left hand over the top of his head. Then he pantomimed smoking a cigarette, pantomimed furtively looking around. Stephen could tell that Victor was most likely imitating Turner Wydell, one of the Student Monitors. Smoking was prohibited, but Turner still tried to sneak in a smoke every now and then.

Victor's hand over the top of his head was most likely meant to mock Turner's very pronounced receding hairline.

Stephen watched one of the young men encouraging Victor's antics. Stephen turned and rapidly typed out a command to have Michael Brookes sent to his office, ASAP. Three minutes later, a smart knocks sounded at his door.

"Come," Stephen barked.

"Sir, yes sir?" Michael Brookes asked, standing at attention.

"So, what was with the dancing I saw you and the new recruit engaging in?" Stephen asked, face millimeters away from the eighteen year old boy's face.

Michael Brookes was a weasel, through and through. Even though Stephen had seen, quite clearly, Michael encouraging Victor's antics, Michael pinned the entire episode on Victor.

Michael's father was a politician; obviously his son had a future in politics as well. No shit ever stuck to Michael Brookes, even though he was constantly in shit up to his neck.

Robert Brookes had asked Stephen Hebert to write a letter of recommendation to West Point on behalf of his son. Stephen had said he would be glad to, and wrote to the commanding officer that if West Point valued cadets that would sell their mother to the enemy, cadets that had no sense of duty, honor, or responsibility, then Michael Robert Brookes was the cadet for them. If they wanted young men that would throw their entire platoon under the bus to save his own worthless hide, then they could find no finer recruit than Michael Robert Brookes.

At current, Michael was trying to pass his Mathematics requirements, as well as make up his Sociology and Civics assignments. Neither he, nor his father could understand why they'd not heard back from West Point though.

Very good," Stephen said, tiring rapidly of Michael Brooke's lies.

Stephen dismissed the smirking young man. Stephen then typed a message to have Victor sent to his office.

Four minutes after sending out the request, a timid knock sounded at Stephen Hebert's door.

"Come," Stephen called out.

"Sir? Yes sir?" a tremulous sounding Victor Roberts whined, coming into the office.

"Stand at attention, boy," Stephen barked.

"Sir, yes sir," Victor quaked.

Stephen stood, marched around his desk, and put his nose against the frightened young man's nose. He glared into Victor's terrified eyes.

"So. You think it's funny make fun of a superior?" Stephen snarled.

"Sir? I, no sir," Victor stammered.

"Your Student Monitor is your superior officer, boy," Stephen snarled.

"Sir, yes sir," Victor agreed.

"Yet, I saw you, mocking your superior officer, did I not?" Stephen demanded.

"I, yes sir," Victor admitted.

His admission earned Victor a small measure of approval from Stephen. Stephen straightened up and nodded curtly. Then he stepped back.

"At ease, boy," Stephen ordered.

Victor assumed the position. Stephen sat behind his desk again.

"So, boy, what do you think we should do about this?" Stephen asked.

"I, sir, I don't know sir," Victor said.

"Well, we've got to do something. We can't just let you run around mocking your superiors, now can we?" Stephen snapped.

I no sir," Victor agreed.

"And, uh, Turner, Michael and Harold have brought a disturbing incident to my attention," Stephen said.

"Sir?" Victor asked.

"It true that you develop an erection in the showers?" Stephen snapped.

"I, I, I..." Victor stammered, a hot blush inflaming his cherubic face.

"It excite you? Taking showers with other men, Victor?" Stephen barked.

"I, I, I..." Victor stammered, tears leaking from his eyes.

"So what is it that gets your little wee-wee all hard, Victor?" Stephen demanded. "The sight of all those nice cocks? The sight of all those big balls, full of delicious man-juice? Or maybe you like sight of all those tight asses, nice tight holes?"

Victor didn't answer. Stephen looked at Victor's school physical education uniform of gray tee shirt and gray polyester shorts and almost smiled. Even though Victor was wearing the required jock strap underneath his shorts, the front of his shorts was tented out.

"Look at you," Stephen snapped. "Just thinking about those naked men, bodies wet, rubbing soap all over their muscles has your little wee-wee hard right now. Just look at you."

Victor's face grew even redder. His cock did give a noticeable twitch.

"Go stand right there, in that corner," Stephen ordered. "Stand there until I can figure out what to do with you."

Victor scurried over to the corner Stephen had indicated. He wedged his flabby body into the corner.

"Oh, boy? Strip," Stephen ordered.

"Sir?" Victor squeaked.

"Heard me. Strip. Down to your all-together," Stephen ordered.

With a moment's hesitation, Victor removed, then folded his tee shirt. He then removed his tennis shoes and socks, placing those neatly next to his folded tee shirt. Shorts were removed and folded. Then, after a brief hesitation, Victor removed and folded his jockstrap.

Stephen looked at the eighteen year old boy's nude body. Victor's chest showed two breasts, with nipples roughly the size of a quarter. His belly showed rolls and folds of flab, was pasty white. The boy's belly button was a deep tunnel.

His pubic hair was a tightly coiled thatch of brown above his six and a half inches of thick circumcised cock. The thatch of brown curls did not extend to Victor's large balls.

Victor's legs were also sparsely covered by hair, two very thick tree trunks. Nude, Victor again wedged his bulk into the corner.

Stephen began his day's work. From time to time, he would look over at the young man in the corner of his office. Victor seemed to be staring straight ahead, at a spot in the opposite corner.

Just when Victor's erect cock dwindled, just as the young man's cock shrunk to just over three inches of still quite thick cock, Stephen cleared his throat.

"So, what is it that gives you a little stiffy?" Stephen ordered.

"Sir?" Victor snapped out of whatever mild trance he'd been in.

"So what makes your itty bitty wee-wee get all hard when you're taking a shower with your fellow students?" Stephen demanded to know. "Hmm? What is it? Like looking at their cocks? Their balls? Their buttocks?"

"I, I don't know, sir," Victor stammered, hot blush on his face again.

And to Victor's horror, his cock again swelled to full hardness, pointing nearly skyward. He moved to put his hands in front of the throbbing, twitching cock, then put them back to his sides.

Stephen returned to his work. He spoke into his intercom, barking orders to an unseen aide that he had expected the test scores ten minutes ago. Looking over, he saw that Victor's cock was nearly flaccid again.

"Want to get on your knees? Run your tongue all over their sweaty cocks, want to suck on their big delicious cocks until they fill your mouth with their hot spunk?" Stephen asked the young man.

Victor's cock again shot to full hardness. The young man struggled to form words.

Five minutes later, Victor's cock was still hard, throbbing as the young man stood, staring into the opposite corner. Stephen smirked as he swiveled in his large chair, swiveled, making sure he had Victor's attention.

"Or, want one or two them hold you down, pull your fat ass cheeks apart, anal fuck you like the little bitch you are?" Stephen snarled.

"Ugh!" Victor grunted and his cock jerked and twitched.

A few beads of moisture began to ooze from the tip of Victor's hard cock. Stephen watched as a few more drops joined and the drops threatened to fall to his hardwood floor.

"Or want one to jam his cock in your tight ass while another one fucks your mouth?" Stephen asked forcefully. "That it? Want both them holes filled up with cock?"

"Ugh, oh God," Victor whined and shot a torrent of sperm across the hardwood floor.

Stephen watched as the thick spurt jetted nearly four feet across the office. He watched as the semen splattered to the spotless floor. Another two forceful spurts joined the first, splattering to the floor.

"Well, boy, don't just stand there," Stephen hissed as Victor's cock remained hard, throbbing. "Clean that up."

"Yes sir," Victor sobbed out, looking around for something to blot the semen with.

"Down. On your hands and knees. Face to the floor, and lick it up," Stephen barked.

Victor dropped to his knees and began lapping his own semen from the floor. Stephen's own cock stretched his uniform trousers as he looked at Victor's light brown anus, nestled between two flabby globes of flesh.

"Now, Roberts, get dressed," Stephen said after Victor had made two passes with his tongue.

"Yes sir, Victor whispered, getting to his feet.

"Now, get dressed in the appropriate uniform and go to your, your Chemistry class," Stephen ordered.

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Victor said, turning to leave.

"And, Roberts? Michael Brookes is no friend of yours. Understand?" Stephen spoke gently.

"Sir?" Victor asked, then nodded in understanding. "Yes sir, understood sir."

The following morning, Stephen again watched the students milling about. Apparently, Michael Brookes was trying to goad Victor, enticing the newest student to entertain them with antics. Victor did not rise to the bait though.

Michael said something that seemed to anger Victor. Stephen watched as Victor held up his middle finger and snarled something to the smirking Michael.

The Student Monitors came, interrupting whatever little skirmish was about to begin. The monitors urged the students through the morning calisthenics, and then had them jog over to the track.

Stephen turned and typed out a command. Then he again reviewed the test scores and smiled tightly. Michael Brookes had failed his test in Algebra. He wondered what excuse Michael Brookes would come up with to explain that failure away, what excuse the boy would use to make his failure someone else's fault.

At ten forty five, the expected knock came.

"Come," Stephen ordered.

Victor came in, now dressed in the school uniform of khaki trousers and shirt, and black oxfords buffed to mirror shine.

"It's your study period," Mr. Roberts," Stephen commented.

"Sir, yes sir," Victor agreed.

"Yesterday, I asked you what exactly gave you a stiffy when you were showering with your fellow students," Stephen snapped.

"I, yes sir," Victor said, hot blush coming to his face and neck.

"And you told me you didn't know what it was that made your little bitty pee-pee get all hard," Stephen snapped.

"I, yes sir," Victor agreed.

"So, sit at that desk, right there," Stephen said, pointing to the small student's desk in the far corner.

"Sir, yes sir," Victor asked and did wedge his bulk into the desk.

"Now, for this study period? You're going to study the images on the screen and you're going to study what it is that gives you a tiny boner," Stephen ordered. "Hit any key; it'll start the program."

Victor hit the space bar on the keyboard. His eyes goggled at the sight of a very handsome young man, nude except for a pair of micro-briefs. The next image that flashed on the screen showed the same young man without the micro-briefs, flaccid cock dangling over heavy balls. The following image showed the same handsome young man, now sporting a large erection. The image that followed showed the young man with his back to the camera. He smiled over his shoulder as his right hand pulled his right buttock wide, displaying a slightly reddened anus gaping open.

Victor felt his face get quite hot, felt his palms become slick with sweat as he was treated to image after image of handsome, virile young men in various stages of undress, with flaccid and with erect cocks, with tight buttocks, with spread buttocks.

"So? What is it, Roberts? What's making your little bitty dicky get all hard? Their cocks? All hard and throbbing? Ready for you to wrap your lips around them?" Stephen demanded as the first set of images started again. "Them showing you their tight little holes, showing you what your ass should be used for?"

"I, I don't know, sir," Victor whispered, still watching the computer screen, looking at the images of virile young men.

"Then I guess you'll have to come back tomorrow, hmm? Study some more? Is that it? Need to study some more?" Stephen asked. "Go on, time for you to get to the cafeteria; you're on salad detail."

When victor wiggled out from the desk, his boxers did little to conceal the raging erection in his uniform trousers. He blushed hotly as he scampered from the office.

The following day, Victor was made to sit at the desk again. This time, when he hit the space bar, the first image showed not one, but two handsome men posing together. From the first innocuous image, the screen rapidly filled with image after image of young men sucking one another's cocks. The screen showed image after image of young men's lips stretched taut around hard cocks, their handsome faces liberally coated with semen.

At the end of the study period, Victor's uniform trousers were again tented, and there was a sizeable stain spreading. The young man mumbled a salute, then scampered from the office.

The next day's images showed handsome young men being roughly sodomized. The images showed handsome young men, faces twisted in pleasure as large cocks jammed into their tight and willing anuses. Image after image flickered, showing buttocks and balls liberally coated in semen.

When Victor got to wobbly legs, the stain in the front of his trousers was wide, showing that Victor had ejaculated not once, but at least three times as he watched the images of anal sex. He wheezed out his departure, then dropped his hands to hide the evident stain in his trousers.

Stephen smirked as Roberts showed up the following day, eager to begin the study period. Wordlessly, he pointed to the desk.

"Roberts, why don't you strip? Surely, you're a little tired of laundry detail?" Stephen suggested.

The day's period was filled with videos of a very large cock sliding into the mouth and down the throat of a young man. The sound quality was terrible; Victor could hear a male voice ordering the young man to suck his cock, ordering the young man to use his tongue.

"Here it comes, boy, here's your man juice," the owner of the cock said, speech horribly garbled.

All that was visible of the man with the quite large cock was the man's heavily muscled thighs and washboard abdomen, as well as two very fat balls and the thick, veined slab of uncircumcised meat.

"Mm-hmm," the young man agreed, semen leaking from his mouth, dribbling down his chin.

"Ready get that tight little ass ruined?" the garbled speaker asked.

"Oh, yes sir!" the young man happily agreed.

The scene shifted to show the young man, face and shoulders against a mattress. The young man reached back and pulled his buttocks apart, showing his tightly clenched rectum. The camera zoomed in to show the small brown hole did glisten with lubricant. Suddenly, a fat, uncircumcised cock filled the screen. The camera did back up slightly to show the large cock shoving into the tightly clenched anus.

"Ugh! Oh God, Sir, wait, wait, you're killing me," the young man whined.

The owner of the battering ram barked an unintelligible command and the young man ceased with his whining. He did whimper as the large cock forced into his bowels.

"Like that?" Stephen asked.

"Huh?" Victor tore his eyes from the small brown hole flowering open, stretching to accommodate the fat cock.

"Wish that was you? Getting your mouth filled with delicious cock, swallowing all that man-juice? Then getting your tight little hole all ripped open? Wish someone would make you get on your knees, take their giant cock into your little hole?" Stephen demanded.

Victor flamed hotly. His button mouth opened and closed, like a fish, but no words came out.

"Answer me, boy," Stephen demanded.

"I, I, sir," Victor stammered.

"Study period's over. Got all weekend think of a suitable response," Stephen snapped.

Victor's cock waggled and bobbed as Victor dressed into the khaki uniform again. He struggled to zip the trousers over the sizeable lump; his cock was still jutting forward as he weakly saluted, then left the office.

Monday morning, Victor showed up for his study period. Stephen gripped the boy's pudgy arm and marched him to an adjoining room.

In the room was a wooden chair. A pillow sat on the seat of the chair. There was no other furniture in the windowless room. Stephen marched Victor toward the chair.

Harold Melancon entered the room, gave a salute then closed and locked the door.

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