Two highly different and unrelated problems. One unorthodox solution. The first problem that was the higher-ups in the military were itching for a hole to fuck. New rules said that they couldn’t use the native women in any way, even if the women themselves wanted to. They could still have cyber-sex with their wives and girlfriends, but the men agreed it just wasn’t the same, feeling a pussy encased around your cock. The men were open to any hole, male or female; just not each other. A report soon landed on the lead operative’s desk that would solve their problem.
Staff Sergeant Joey Millstone was starting to get on everyone’s nerves. A relatively fit young adult, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch. He knew that going into the military would be better than going to college or doing those technical types of jobs. And from a physical standpoint, he was an excellent soldier. But he didn’t take orders too well. They weren’t sure if that was his personality, or he genuinely misunderstood them.
The final straw came when his commander literally screamed in his right ear that he had to clean the toilets. Thankfully not with a toothbrush, but when the commander checked on his progress, Joey was nowhere to be found. He was back in his bunk, jerking off to a porn magazine that he had bought in town. They eventually found him, and reprimanded him. The commander desperately wanted to kick Joey out of the military, but his second-in-command/secretary plopped a thick stack of documents on his desk.
“Commander Leander, I think this program will be perfect for someone like Millstone. We’re testing out advanced hypnotic tracks that will turn into our enemies into bottom bitches.”
“Like, sexual bottoms?”
“Yes, sir. They’ll become so fucking horny, they’ll stop fighting! It’s still in the testing stages, and it’s military-sanctioned, so we don’t have to resort to under-the-table nonsense.”
“Where do I sign?” Millstone soon had to pack up his things and leave the base. He wasn’t going home just yet, as his commander had apparently signed him up for some bizarre medical trial. At least he wasn’t going to be dishonorably discharged, and so he showed up at the sterile white and imposing building. A bunch of doctors were scurrying around inside, and he had to fight to get to the front desk.
“Staff Sergeant Millstone, reporting for clinical trial, um, I have it on my phone.”
“I can look it up for you here, hon. Let’s see, Staff Sergeant Joey Millstone?”
“Room 284, four doors down the hall on the right.”
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