Devil Dawg Donnelly's
Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental.
You may contact the author at ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions and/or observations are welcome if presented respectfully.
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Part Eleven:
"Mmmm, I could wake up like this every morning." Carl McGregor moaned into the pillow his face was almost buried in. Max Donnelly pulled his head back from between Carl's hairy ass cheeks, taking one more swipe of his long, wet, drooling tongue across the swollen puffy lips of Carl's moist anal orifice. "I could spend the rest of the day eating this delicious pussy of yours!" Max practically purred, before driving his tongue inches back into Carl's moist hole.
"Max?" Carl groaned, subconsciously lifting his hips to push back against Max's probing hole lapper "You need to stop, we have to get up." Carl said with all the enthusiasm of someone getting a root canal. Max responded by pulling his tongue out of his hole and kissing it sweetly before clamping his lips around his swollen pucker and begin sucking on it in earnest.
"MAX!?" Carl moaned louder, turning his head around as far as possible, practically pleading with him "We have to get it in gear."
Max pulled back, raising both hands and loudly smacking Carl's muscular furry ass cheeks "Never disturb a man when he's eating pussy, bitch." To emphasize his point, he respreads Carl's cheeks, dove back in vigorously and loudly began lapping and slurping at Carl's rectum.
Carl just buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle the loudness of his ever-increasing moans. Finally, Max pulled back, giving Carl's hole a playful smack with his fingers, making Carl flinch and twist around, his hands shooting up protectively, trying to cover his smarting anus.
"What was that for!? Carl griped, his fingertips gently massaging his now sore hole.
Max rose from the bed, a wicked grin on his face. "Just reminding you who's hole that is!" Leaning over, Max planted his lips against Carl's, forcing his tongue into his mouth, before pulling away with a smack of his lips. "How's your cunt taste, beautiful?"
Carl almost laughed at the debauched lecherous smirk on his lovers face. "Tastes like your cum, if you wanna know the truth." Carl smiled, closing his eyes, and rolling his tongue over his lips sensuously making sure Max knew he enjoyed the flavor.
Max laughed. "I thought you said we had to get going?" bringing his hand up to stroke Carl's face affectionately before palming it and shoving him backward. Max turned to head toward the bathroom, then suddenly pivoted back around, cautioning: "Stay right there boy!"
Max walked over to his nightstand, opened the top drawer, reached inside and pulled out a 2" circumference butt plug and motioned for Carl to turn around. "Almost made me forget this, you little vixen." he said spitting on the plug and smearing it all around with his fingers. "Ass up!" he commanded, Carl groaned before complying.
"Is this really necessary Max?"
With a resounding smack against his right ass cheek, Max growled out: "It's my hole, I do what I want with it when I want!" Max snarled, shoving the plug into Carl's hole, then smacking his fleshy mounds again on both sides. "Got it!?" he stated, daring Carl to disagree.
"Wouldn't dream of having it any other way." Carl responded rising from the bed and putting his arms around Max's neck and pulling his head down to kiss him warmly on the lips.
Max broke the kiss and turned once again to head toward the bathroom across the room: "By the way, that stays in until I remove it, is that clear?" his voice trailing as he crossed the room.
"Doesn't it always?" Carl quipped, still feeling playful while trying to straighten the bed.
"Leave that for later." Max ordered. "Get your ass in here so you can do your duty and wash me." he added, stepping into the shower, turning it on, and adjusting the temperature to his liking.
"Damn," Carl thought to himself. "I sure could get used to this every day!" hurrying to join Max as he held out the bar of soap to him expectantly.
After washing every inch of Max's hairy body and rinsing him with his massaging hands, Carl applied shaving lotion to Max's face and began reluctantly shaving him. Gently stroking the razor over his face, Carl mused: "When we retire from the Corps, the first thing that's gonna change is this."
Max smiled down at him affectionately. "You just want to feel my whiskers against your snatch." Max reached down gripping both of Carl's firm mounds in his hands and began squeezing them, drawing Carl up against his body.
"Stop that!" Carl groaned: "You could make me cut you!" he cautioned.
"I heal fast." Max sniped playfully snapping at the tip of Carl's nose with his teeth.
Carl knew he had to change Max's focus, or they were indeed going to be late for duty the way things were progressing, as evident by Max's rising phallus.
"What time is our meeting with Walker today?" He asked hoping to refocus Max's attention.
"Hmmm, I was thinking about," Max paused before continuing: "how about ten hundred hours? Would that be enough time for you to get your shit together?"
Carl's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I think so, not sure about Walker though."
Max gave Carl a half-grin: "Quit being so critical. I had one of my lance corporals notify him yesterday." Max actually loved the way Carl was always trying to be cautiously prepared for every contingency.
"Atticus will do fine Carl." He insisted: "Give the poor guy a break and let him prove himself."
Max thrust his head under the shower spray and rinsed his face: "Let's get dressed and fix some breakfast." He reached for a towel as Carl shut off the water, "What if the boys are up?" Carl asked hesitantly.
Max shrugged his shoulders. "What about it? They're big boy's now. Let 'em figure it out." He looked Carl in the eyes, "If they have questions, they'll ask." a smirk crept across his face as he leered into Carl's green eyes. "Then I'll just stand back and watch as you squirm, hem haw, and get all embarrassed."
Carl glared at him, while Max grinned back, giving him a quick peck on the nose. "What's the matter Sgt. McGregor? Can't the big bad jarhead handle two wittle teenage boys or is he gonna yank up his skirt and run screaming away like a 5-year-old girl?"
"You're asking for it, Donnelly." Carl snarled, laughing at himself on the inside for falling right into it. Max was right though, control the situation, don't let it control you.
As Carl finished up frying a skillet full of scrambled eggs and putting some more bread in the toaster Max sat at the table checking out the morning news on his phone.
"Could you wake the boys?" Carl asked over his shoulder as he finished buttering the previous pieces of toast that had popped up.
"Nope." Was Max's simple response. "I told ya last night this is your purview now babe."
Carl tried to mentally shoot daggers from his eyes at Max's head.
Without even looking up from his phone, Max declared: "Carpe Diem Carl; seize the day."
Carl grabbed a pot from the rack above him and the wooden spoon he had just used to scramble the eggs and walked down toward the boy's rooms.
As he banged the pot loudly, Carl shouted out: "Rise and shine boys! Breakfast is nearly ready. Ya got 5 minutes before your dad starts singing as loud as he can."
Carl returned to the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face. Max looked over at him as he removed the last two pieces of toast from the toaster and started buttering them and adding them to the plate and setting it on the table.
"And exactly what is wrong with my singing may I ask?" The look on his face was so serious, Carl wanted to burst out laughing.
"Nothing Max, you have a singing voice that should be on the radio." Carl grinned devilishly.
"Haha!" Max smirked. "Let me guess, so you can turn it off right?"
Carl just batted his eyes at him feigning innocence. JD and a very sleepy looking Timmy came stumbling out of his room, Timmy looking a little worse for wear.
"Rough night?" Max enquired, more as an observation than an actual question before adding. "Carl did warn you two not to stay up too late."
Just as Carl sat down at the table after getting the plate of bacon from the oven, Billy appeared from the hallway running his fingers through his already messy hair. "What's with the early morning roll call?" he grumbled, now trying to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sat down.
"Good morning boys!" Carl smiled ignoring their grumpiness. "You're up because it's after oh seven hundred and it's time for breakfast!"
"Better give it up boy's. He's obnoxiously upbeat in the morning's." Max stated, taking a sip of his coffee before adding: "Better get used to it because you don't have any other choice."
Carl thought about giving some smart ass retort but decided against it. Max was right. If the household is now his purview, like he said it was, then he was running it the way he wanted and that meant everyone at the table for breakfast in the morning.
"Can we eat now?" JD grumbled: "Or do we all have to hold hands and sing a round of Kumbaya first?"
Master SGT. Max Donnelly sat at his desk staring at his computer screen reviewing the stats on the two new transfers coming in from the Kaneohe Bay Marine Corps Base in Hawaii. Cpl. Scott Taylor and Pfc. Austin Davis was already in flight and would be arriving this evening. Max knew Carl was just going to love that, since he'd be the one assigned to greet them. Both men had checked out after Carl had sent Max the breakdown of their lineage and their training specs.
Both have undergone their Heritage ceremonies, something easily tracked through Max's connection network. Elder Danal Cornelius himself vouched for their authenticity. Scott Taylor was sired in the Northern Devil Dawg region and Austin Davis was sired in the South Western Devil Dawg region, the latter just having completed his Heritage ceremony just 5 months ago and was only 18 years of age. Still a bit green, but he fit Max's requirements. Scott was 21 and had specialist training both in the Corps. and outside it. His profile was like so many others, left outside the system by the death of his sire in service to the cause or service to the Corps. and now sought placement, at first thinking, he could go it alone, again like so many others on his list, but quickly finding out that that is not so easily done.
Though his good friend and one-time mentor Danal Cornelius did his best to keep track of all these outsiders, the older they got the more likely they would fall out of the system and would make lives for themselves outside their Heritage. Max and Carl compiled this list of some of the younger ones that Danal was able to keep track of and contacted them explaining the situation and what Carl, Hank, and even Danal had sensed in his son Billy; let's just say these twelve young outsiders thought it intriguing enough to hitch their wagons to the possibility so to speak.
If what they believe is true, and the signs were there, and they had all sensed it, then these young rogues could finally find a place they could legitimately belong. It was a huge leap of faith by all of them. But if everything pans out, then the potential for them finally finding acceptance would be almost assured. If nothing else Max reasoned, they had at least started coalescing into a fine unit of their own. Max could find a use for that.
Just as expected and right on time, Carl arrived for their appointment with Corporal Atticus Walker in tow. Atticus was pure Kentucky country boy; big, outgoing, and eager to make an impression. Too eager sometimes for Carl's liking. But most of all, he, like the other nine in his growing squad, had managed to maintain the code; not an easy task considering their age and having already all gone through their Heritage ceremonies and living out on their own, free from the expectations of their sires whether separation by death, dissolution, or physical/mental incapacitation.
The one thing that annoyed Carl the most was the hair. Though still regulation cut high and tight, Atticus and his squad had taken to wearing their hair fauxhawk style, pushing the sides of the hair on top to the middle and into a small peak.
Carl thought it was disrespectful to the Corps. Max however found it rather fitting and somewhat attractive. Max gestured for them to both be seated in the chairs in front of his desk. Carl laid his laptop down on the corner and pulled his chair up to the desk while Atticus just sat where indicated and let the small stack of folders he brought sit on his lap.
While Carl got ready, Max took the moment to appreciate Atticus's physical features. While not what some would call handsome, absolutely no one would deny his features weren't extremely masculine. His most prominent facial feature was his broad nose, his larger than normal nostrils that often flared when he spoke; a voice deep and raspy, a voice you knew could boom out orders when required, the crooked side bent of his protruding nose bridge, deformed by poorly set bones from the previous breakage. Atticus's eyes were also a narrower set, light golden brown that always burned with enthusiasm and an inner drive.
Above those eyes was a heavy protruding brow, with thick, dense, medium brown hair. A lower than usual forehead that crinkled and furrowed heavily when he would smile, laugh or even while concentrating. His jaw also protruded, as does the broad chin framing a very wide mouth with lips so thick it looked like if you licked them and shoved his lips against the wall his face would stick to it.
As for the rest of him, the best word to describe the man was thick. Everywhere. Even though he was 6'2", he looked squatter than he actually was. His large thick hands and huge feet added to the illusion, as well as the fact his neck was so thick and wide and corded with muscle, it gave the impression he barely had one. It also made his head look disproportionately smaller.
As for the rest of his body, Max could only surmise the man lived in the gym weight room and when he wasn't there, stuffing his face in the mess hall trying to fuel his near bestial proportions. Even his XXL uniform fatigues looked too tight on him.
Max had never seen him shirtless, but suspected his entire body was covered in the same thick reddish-brown fur his forearms were covered in. Max concluded his VSE (visual surveillance of extremities) of the young Corporal as Carl cleared his throat and indicated he was ready to begin.
"I've received confirmation that Taylor and Davis boarded their flight as scheduled and had landed in San Diego." Carl began, still staring at his computer screen. "I can also confirm they boarded their connecting flight in San Diego and should be arriving here in Albany by or before nineteen hundred hours." He concluded, looking at Max for further instructions, instructions he was already sure would not be to his liking.
Max looked him intently in the eyes, his brow furrowing. "You know I'm gonna want you there to greet them." Max could see he was expecting it, but also that he didn't like it. Max understood; after last night and this morning's breakfast with the boys, Carl wanted to present a united front, backing up their status as being "together," that he was afraid his absence tonight might send a confusing message to the boys.
But this was important; they also needed to demonstrate a united front especially with the new recruits. The final two arrivals for this new special unit. Max turned to Atticus who was intently taking it all in, ready for Max's orders, anxious about finally completing this phase of many months worth of work. "I expect you there to greet your men Corporal." Max's tone was firm, but tinged with a casual light grin, an acknowledgment to Atticus's excitement at having the last two members of his team finally join them.
Max cleared his throat before continuing, looking at Carl: "You know, you'll..."
Carl interjected before he could finish. "I'll be there as well, Master Sergeant; at least until we get the new men settled."
Carl's face was completely deadpan, devoid of anything other than acceptance of his duty. This is one of the many things Max loved about him; his selfless devotion and sense of duty. If Atticus weren't here right now he'd... Max let the imagery of that thought trail away to the back of his mind for later and returned his attention to Cpl. Walker. "Are those the latest updates to your men's progress reports?" Atticus stood and handed over the stack of folders he held, reaching across the desk, and handing them to his superior. "Yes Master Sgt. "He was practically beaming with enthusiasm.
Max took the folders and set them on his desk opening one at random to peruse the content. "Is there anything of special significance I need to address or know about Corporal?" Max asked, looking intently into Walker's eyes.
Atticus, with no small sense of pride in his thick raspy voice, enthused: "I'm very happy with the overall progress of the team as a whole Master Sgt., but two of them are already doing better than expected." He paused pointing out two folders that lay spread out in front of Max. "These two." He indicated pulling them from the spread. "Pfc. Barin Young and Pfc. Rex Wilson." Atticus's eye's betrayed his youthful exuberance speaking about his teammates.
Max scanned their files with interest, taking special note of their progressively incremental surges in hand to hand combat and tactical growth. Max nodded with approval, adding. "There will be two highly trained combat specialist arriving within the next two weeks from Geiger. I think they will be significantly helpful getting the rest of your team up to par with these two Corporal." Max concluded: "Good work Atticus!" Carl knew Max was referring to Hank Bauers and his son Jake. Both Max and Carl could see how Atticus beamed with pride over Max's appraisal.
"Confidence is a good thing," Carl stated in a matter of fact tone, then added: "but it's the overall unit competency that matters here." Carl addressed his comments specifically to Cpl. Walker: "With that thought in mind and with Max's approval, we will be going on a little training mission Corporal."
Max looked quizzically at Carl, not knowing exactly what he had in mind, but knowing him well enough to hazard a guess. "Training mission to the compound Sgt McGregor?" Carl's faint grin confirmed he had read the situation correctly. "Get it set up immediately." Max ordered.
Carl dreaded asking because he already knew the outcome. "How immediate are we talking?"
Max tried to conceal the fact he knew Carl would not be at all pleased with his response. "No time like the present." He looked Carl right in the eyes, the intensity of his gaze leaving no doubt that there was no room for discussion; his mind was made up. "Start preparations now," Max ordered, "I expect your unit to pull out by zero nineteen hundred hours tomorrow."
Max didn't look at Carl now. He knew he wouldn't be happy with the order but knew it was coming and Max knew he understood why Max was so keen on this getting done. Billy's birthday was just a little over two weeks away now, and Max wanted this unit ready for any contingency. They both knew that if what they thought was true, not everyone might be accepting of it, and though he wasn't expecting any significant trouble, like any good leader, he knew to prepare for it and he also knew Carl understood that as well.
"You have your orders gentlemen." Max stood, indicating the meeting was over. "Dismissed!" Max noted Carl was fiddling with is laptop, purposely stalling, waiting for Atticus to leave. Max came around his desk sitting on the end closest to Carl as Cpl. Walker exited his office. "Don't be upset with me." he said softly lightly touching Carl's shoulder.
"I'm not, Max. I'm just a little disappointed at the timing is all." Carl said not looking up to meet Max's eyes, fumbling with the satchel he kept his laptop in.
"Pick us up something to eat for dinner on your way home." Max added with a small grin. "I'll wait to have dinner with you when you get home tonight."
Carl couldn't help but smile, before asking if there was anything, in particular, he'd like to eat for dinner. Max responded coyly: "I think you already know what I want to eat and it ain't something you can buy at any restaurant."
Carl blushed slightly as he turned to head out of Max's office before turning at the door to respond: "I'm saving that for dessert Max Donnelly!"
Once again, I'd like to thank Sam for his diligent editing skills and proof reading!
I want to emphasize, that while this story isn't a sci-fi story, it is a modern day fantasy and though that may not seem so presient thus far in the story, those fantasy elements will become clearer as it progresses.
As always, comments are always welcome, I love hearing from all of you!
Ulf
Feel free to contact me with your comments or questions at: ulfr57@gmail.com