Army Recruitment Centre, Part 1
submitted January 14, 2003
Categories: Military
Week 3 - Inspection
“Attention on deck!” someone yelled, as the Drill Instructor entered the barracks. Everyone snapped to attention.
“In front of your bunks! Now!” snapped the DI as he walked briskly the length of the room. This was my third week in the military, and frankly I wasn’t sure this was the place for me. It appeared however that I was stuck, together with the other twenty-five men in my company.
It was early on a Sunday afternoon, typically a day of rest and leisure. Rarely had we even seen the DI on Saturday much less on Sunday. Today would be very different.
“Today gentlemen,” said the DI in an unusually calm voice, “I will be conducting a personal hygiene inspection.” I wasn’t even sure what that was. During the past three weeks however, I had learned very quickly that humiliation was standard operating procedure in the military so I gathered this was just another hazing exercise. The DI quickly explained the forthcoming procedure. Basically, we were to get showered and shaved, with all body parts thoroughly cleaned. Teeth should be brushed, all finger and toenails will be clipped, and armpits deodorized.
“Pay particular attention to your pole and hole, as I will be inspecting them as well,” the DI continued. Pole and hole was military talk for dick and butt.
“You have 30 minutes to accomplish this. At exactly 1400 hours (2 pm for you non-military people), you should be standing in front of your bunk, at attention, buck-naked. Does everyone understand me?” the DI asked, again in an unusually calm voice.
“Sir, Yes Sir,” the troops responded in unison. “Now ditch the uniforms and hit the showers,” said the DI, as he left the room leaving all his recruits to follow out the preceding orders.
Thirty minutes isn’t much time for 25 guys to get buffed up. Since the communal shower only held about twelve people, half the troops shaved while the remainder showered up. There was a lot of talk about how ridiculous this drill was, and that it would do nothing to enhance our military experience. Several guys had to borrow nail clippers. Several others were without the benefit of armpit deodorant, but we all shared best we could. So picture this if you will. Twenty-five naked guys frantically try to get ready for an inspection of all body parts, including presumably, “poles and holes.”
By 1400 hours, all of us were standing in front of our bunks as instructed … completely naked. I’d gotten used to nudity in the military. Seemed we were always naked for something. First, there was the group induction physical, which was candidly the most humiliating experience of my life. The exam conducted by the doctor wasn’t that bad, except for the part where he stuck a lubed index finger up our ass. Hurt like hell. But then we all lined up to piss in a cup. As each recruit stepped forward, the medic actually grabbed the shaft of our penis, and told us to piss in the cup he was holding. Believe me, it’s not exactly easy to piss on command. Then there was the group swimming evaluation, with all twenty-five of us naked in the pool. One guy actually urinated in the pool (accidentally I’m sure). The instructor was furious and made the poor bastard to 50 push-ups … naked of course while the rest of us looked on. And then there was the fitting for uniforms. Standing naked in a very cold room, some prick of a corporal took our measurements … chest and waists were no problem. As he took the inseam measurement, the corporal shoved the tape underneath our balls, obviously delighted in his attention to detail. The absolute worst experience of being naked in a group was the physical fitness evaluation. We were all herded into a small gymnasium, after having chucked our clothes in the locker room. There the instructor barked out order after order to the group. First everyone did 100 push-ups. Next, there were the jumping jacks. Several guys actually got an erection from this exercise. After that, there were the 50 sit-ups, which several of us had some difficulty in accomplishing. Finally, we were all required to run 30 laps around the gym, dicks flopping in the breeze, which resulted in several more guys sporting erections. “Attention on deck,” someone shouted as the DI entered the barracks at exactly 1400 hours. The DI walked the length of the room, obviously getting a general overview of his troops. Half the troops were on one side of the room with the remainder on the other.
“Gentlemen,” said the DI, “Personal hygiene is very important in the military. Today, I intend to teach you the necessity of this very important trait.” Yeah, right. The guy just wants to humiliate us. I was sure this would be very embarrassing. “Demerits will be issued as appropriate,” the DI continued, “so I hope you take this exercise seriously!” Go to hell was my initial thought.
“Hands on your head!” yelled the DI, as he started across the room to examine his first victim. So there we stood, hands on our heads, completely naked at attention with positively no defense.
As the DI came down the line of naked bodies, he randomly checked various parts of the body for cleanliness. He seemed to be fond of dirty ears, if he could find them. Fresh breath was another one of his tests. He actually smelled the armpits of one of the recruits! This guy was sick!
At the end of the first line of guys, the DI inspected the toes of an unsuspecting recruit. Seemed this poor bastard had “gunk between his toes.” “10 demerits!” shouted the DI.
The DI quickly moved to the opposite side of the room, inspecting the remainder of the troops. When it was my turn for inspection, the DI looked me over several times and moved on to the next man. Lucky me. Finally, the DI had inspected all 25 men over the course of the past 20 minutes or so. I for one made the assumption this drill was over. Never assume anything in the military.
“Now gentlemen,” said the DI excitedly, “I will be inspecting your penis, scrotum, and rectum. Remain at attention with your hand on you heads!” Well at least he was using anatomically correct verbiage, rather than the previous language of “poles and holes.”
Again, the DI started at the opposite end of the room. Bending down on one knee, the DI grasped the first man’s dick and balls in his hand and proceeded with the examination. From my vantage point, I could see the DI take both thumbs and expand the poor guys piss hole … knowing all along that I would experience the same treatment. After about three minutes, the DI moved to the next man, repeating the same procedure as before. By the time the DI had completed the first row of men, at least five of them had either full erections or were semi-hard.
Moving across the room, the process was repeated. The guy next to me had popped a very erect boner, apparently just at the thought of having his dick examined by this maniac. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked as if he actually had tears in his eyes fearful of what the DI would do once it was his turn.
“Well, what do we have here?” asked the DI of my neighbor. “Can’t you control yourself?”
“Sir, Yes Sir, Sorry Sir!” replied the obviously embarrassed recruit.
The DI grabbed his dick and started the examination. “This is a poor excuse for a penis,” yelled the DI, “Where’d you get such pathetic looking tool?”
“Don’t know Sir!” replied the Private, as the DI continued to manhandle the poor guys dick, stroking the shaft multiple times.
“Does that feel good Private?” ask the DI, his hand still locked around his dick.
“No Sir!” said the man. I thought the poor guy was about to cry.
“Well let’s see what you can get out of that puny excuse for manhood,” said the DI, now clearly jacking off the recruit.
“Yes Sir!” responded the recruit, apparently not knowing what else to say.
Let’s assume that since none of the troops had ejaculated recently, any fondling of the gentile area would produce a rapid response of white liquid. As the DI continued his “examination”, the young recruit suddenly let loose with a rather sizable load of cum, landing squarely on the DI’s shirt. “15 demerits, asshole!” command the DI, as he grabbed a towel to quickly remove the mess from his once spotless uniform.
I was next. The DI grabbed my dick with both hands, carefully examining my now emerging hard-on. I wish we could remove our hands from our heads. After pushing back my piss hole for a minute or two and man handling my shaft, the DI started examining my pubic hair. “You don’t have much of a bush!” said the DI, “In fact, you might as well not have any!”
“Sir, Yes Sir!” I said, seemingly the appropriate response.
After the DI completed the “pole” portion of his examination, it apparently was time for him to check out the “hole.”
“Hands on your sides, and about face!” commanded the DI, “bend over, spread your legs and grab you ankles!” Immediately, 25 butts surfaced for the DI to inspect.
The DI started down the line, spreading each man’s cheeks and checking out each butt hole with what appeared to be great interest. Must have been quite a site. Once all butt holes had been inspected, we were commanded to return to “as we were,” which was standing at attention. Hopefully this silly little exercise was over. It was now 1500 hours.
“Now then gentlemen,” said the DI, “I hope you better appreciate the need for a clean body. And while most of you passed, those of you who didn’t know who you are. We will repeat this exercise at random, and I fully expect better results. Every man--give me 20 push-ups!”
We all dropped to the floor and pumped out the required punishment. Several of the guys actually came while doing the push-ups, leaving puddles on the floor.
After the required push-up were completed, the DI instructed everyone to get dressed and prepare for evening chow. All were relieved this stupid display of insanity was now over, knowing that it would probably be repeated.