The Blue Corps
The army always did its best to entice new recruits, but with some of the incentive packages and changes in society, by the time Ben was old enough to enlist there was practically a draft. Those who didn't sign up couldn't find a job or afford school, while a single tour was enough to get trained and placed for any field, given appropriate apptitude. A month in to the decision to join up, and Ben was already regretting it.
"Mullins! Explain that!" Major Whit screams directly at the smaller feline. Not waiting for Ben to guess what he was supposed to explain, the major hacks up a wad of spit on to a small stain on Ben's uniform from a hurried, meager, and all too messy breakfast. "You've disrespected your uniform, worm! Just like you did on your first day! If you can't show your uniform the proper respect it deserves, I see no reason why you should be allowed to wear it! Private Mullins, remove it!"
Ben looks up from Whit's chest to eyes in disbelief. It was still dark enough out for both cat and lion's eyes to be slitted, and Ben's incredible night vision was keen enough to clearly determine Whit's expression. The large, tawny feline wasn't joking. "Yessir." Ben responds automatically. Slowly, then faster when Whit yells again, Ben unbuttons his shirt and removes it. Whit doesn't say anything, so Ben begins to fold it after a moment's hesitation.
"The rest of it, fleabag!" Whit orders, his voice a roar. Flinching from the force of the command, Ben opens his mouth to protest, but Whit cuts him off. "Not a word, mangy runt! You will remain naked for the rest of the day, standing at attention, in this very spot, until I come to collect you. Is that clear, Private!?" There was some chuckling among the ranks, but to Ben's relief Whit silences it with a yell.
Again hurried by the major, Ben fumbles his way out of his pants, but before he even begins to fold them Whit shouts out again. "Those boxers are regulation, Mullins! Off with them, too!"
And that was that. Major Whit left Ben standing naked, the whole of his lean build and gray fur out there for all to see, his uniform nearly folded beside him. Sleep deprived as he was, it was all but impossible for Ben to remain standing at attention, and for every time any officer caught him there was a set of pushups for him to do. By the time Seargent Whit came to get him, around an hour after the world went dark again, Ben had all but perfected the art of sleeping at attention.
"Mullins! This way!" Major Whit orders, barely allowing the cat time to collect the folded uniform before leading him towards the officers' barracks. The warm inside of them made Ben ache for want of rest. Unlike everywhere else he had been in the past month, showers included, the officers' barracks were warm. "At ease, soldier." Whit instructs, and for the first time Ben could recall says so in a soft voice. "And you can get dressed if you want to. I'll wait."
"Please, sir." Ben replies, not even noting the privacy Seargent Whit allows him by the simple act of turning around. Even in the warm barracks and fully dressed, Ben was still chilled enough to shiver.
"There's tea and some dinner waiting for you, private. After you eat, we can talk." Whit further tells Ben, surprising him to no end by the kindness. Something wasn't right, Ben decides.
"That's all right, sir. I'm ready for whatever you want to tell me now." Ben responds. Being in the warm confides of the barraks was luxory enough. If this was a trick of some kind, Ben didn't want to be punished for his indulgence.
"All right, Ben. Are you familiar with the Blue Corps?" Whit asks, to which Ben shakes his head. "All right; the Blue Corps, kinda like medics, is a special task force within another unit. The recieve less time on duty and higher pay, but in return are required to submit themselves to the appetites of those of equal or superior rank who are off duty. From your first day in boot, you've been scouted for it. Tonight, if you are at all interested in learning more details tomorrow, is your initiation."
Putting a hand on the cat, the tawny lion eases closer. "What do you say?"
Ben couldn't help but grin shyly. "Major Whit, sir, with all due respect I think you're fucking with me. Is that all, sir?" He was flattered, in a schoolboyish way, that Whit would go through all that trouble to get him in bed, but he was exhausted, hungry, but for the first time in a month not cold.
"Shut the fuck up." Whit softly orders, a finger gently caressing Ben's cheek. The cat can't help but shiver at the sensitive touch. "I'm serious, Ben. Why do you think we're all so rough on you? Ever wonder why we ignore the muddy boots on some of your campmates but measure the lengths of your laces for regulation length? Say you'll go Blue Corps, private. Or at least see what it is." A finger turns in to several, which stroke back on Ben's cheep until Whit's palm cups around it.
"Sir, I'm exhausted...."
"And, if you join Blue, your boot camp is over as soon as it's official."
Ben furrows his eyebrows, his hand raising up to Whit's hand. "You really are serious." Now, he felt relatively sure about what Whit was telling him. No one joked about Boot being cut two months short. "All right, Major, I'll try it out tonight."
"Good." Whit smiles, then leans down and guides Ben's head forward. After a month of his life being made hell by that man, it came as a shock to have Whit tenderly exploring Ben's lips and mouth with a tongue rougher than his own. Ben could feel Whit's shoulder move at the same time as a zipper being undone. Ben knew what that meant, but doesn't find himself minding the expectation.
Ben was too caught up in the kiss to fully realize it had ended; before he realized their lips had parted, he was being eased down by the head. A ballbering chain falls around his neck, and Ben catches a glimps of a blue dogtag before Whit has it hanging the other way. "Take your uniform off while you suck. I wanna be able to scope out your crack by the time I'm fully hard."
For the second time in one day, Ben found himself fumbling to get his uniform off at the whim of Major Whit. This time, though, he is more occupied with the barbed cock expanding in his mouth than the niceties of folding his laundry. Even beneath the waist, Whit had a clean, strongly masculine smell Ben had never really noticed before. He pushes his mouth down to get as close as he can to the spot the smell came from the strongest.
The sound of other articles of clothing hitting the ground alerts Ben to Whit's actions. Instead of standing idly by, Whit had taken the oppertunity to remove his own shirt, revealing tawny mountains of ropey muscle. Were he not breathless from wearily sucking cock, Ben would have become so when he look up during a breathing break.
"Sir...." Ben starts, trailing off. He hated what he was about to say, but for his own sake he needed to. "Can we postpone this until tomorrow? I'm kinda beat. I don't want to knod off in the middle, sir."
Whit lets out a sigh and guides Ben back up to his feet. "Normally, no; Blue Corps can't say no because of exhaustion, but this one time I'll let you. Tomorrow, though, you'll get a full taste of what being Blue Corps is like." Whit leans back down and kisses the naked private, then releases him. "Part of your incentive, now, is a little taste of what it can be like. You can sleep in here, with me or in a spare bunk, and wake up tomorrow on your own time. You get to sleep in on any night you've performed a service. We'll count this, just between you and me."
Whit winks and puts a hand on Ben's back. "Pick up your uniform; you're still in the army. Then, beds are in there."