Stripped for Duty: Dimon's Military Examination (CMNM story novel)
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Jake looked around, taking in the expanse of the yard as he stepped outside. The surroundings had an almost rustic quality, reminiscent of an old, isolated farmhouse rather than a structured military camp. There was a faded, vintage charm to the place, as if it had been built decades ago and held onto the character of a different time. The dirt pathways, bordered by patches of wild grass, stretched across the open yard, while the cracked cement beneath his feet showed signs of wear, adding to the rugged feel of the environment.
To his right, in the distance, a dense line of tall pine trees stood like silent sentries, the tops swaying faintly with the breeze. The forest framed the edge of the camp, its deep green a stark contrast to the dull grays and browns of the yard. Jake found himself staring at the treeline, a flicker of longing rising in him—anything felt more inviting than the sharp scrutiny and discipline he’d been subjected to since he arrived.
On the far left, a series of two-story buildings lined the perimeter, their worn exteriors and small, square windows giving them a stark, utilitarian look, given the constant flow of uniformed men moving in and out, some carrying supplies, others engaged in conversation.
Scattered around the yard, clusters of men were busy with various tasks—carrying equipment, repairing sections of fencing, or simply talking among themselves. A few were in the middle of physical training, jogging around the perimeter or lifting weights near a makeshift gym area. The steady rhythm of work echoed around him, a reminder of the camp’s unending routine.
But no matter where he looked, Jake couldn’t shake the self-conscious awareness that he was the only one out here without a stitch of clothing. His bare skin felt exposed under the open sky, the occasional glances from others only serving to heighten his discomfort. He fought the urge to cover himself, reminding himself of Reeve’s stern command to keep his composure. With a deep breath, he forced himself to keep walking, doing his best to ignore the looks and the tension that simmered just beneath the surface.
Reeve gestured toward a structure to the left, and they walked closer. As they approached, Jake took in the details: a long metal trough, weathered and dented, stretching along the ground like something lifted straight from a rural farm. Pipes extended from either end, feeding into drainage grates, and overhead, a small, dilapidated barn structure cast a faint shadow, offering minimal shelter from the sun. The entire setup had a crude, almost makeshift feel, and Jake couldn’t help but notice how stark and barren the area seemed, lacking any semblance of comfort or privacy.
The closer they got, the stronger the scent became—a pungent mix of stale urine and damp metal, an unpleasant assault that made Jake instinctively wrinkle his nose. He glanced at the trough with a sinking feeling, already suspecting what Reeve was about to explain. The thought of this being his designated bathroom sent a wave of resentment through him, a bitter reminder of just how different his experience here would be.
Reeve stopped beside the trough, gesturing toward it with an air of casual authority. “This,” he began, his tone matter-of-fact, “is the outdoor bathroom for recruits. It’s simple and functional, just like everything else you’ll find around here. Think of it as your urinal. When you need to piss, you just stand here and do it in the trough. No fuss, no nonsense.”
Jake’s stomach twisted as he took in the setup, his mind railing against the indignity of it. This? A urinal? he thought bitterly, the term feeling absurd given the setup. But he kept silent, unwilling to let Reeve see his reaction.
Reeve continued, moving to a rusty valve above the trough. “Once you’re done, you’ll want to rinse it down. See this valve?” he said, giving it a firm twist. The pipe rattled faintly before an unsteady stream of water trickled down, splashing across the metal trough. Jake watched as the water sputtered and trickled its way along the bottom, gradually flowing toward the drain pipe at the end. The flow was weak, pooling in spots before slowly seeping toward the drain.
“Just like that,” Reeve said, nodding with satisfaction. “Once you’re finished, open the valve to rinse it down. Simple enough for a recruit to handle.” He shot Jake a pointed look. “Got it?”
Jake nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched as he forced himself to answer, “Yes, sir.” Inside, his mind was churning with irritation. Calling this thing a urinal is almost funny, he thought sarcastically, the crude setup making him feel more like livestock than a new recruit.
Reeve’s gaze remained steady, clearly observing every flicker in Jake’s face. “The sooner you adjust, the better. This isn’t a place for luxuries.” His tone carried an unmistakable finality, as if to remind Jake of his place in the hierarchy here.
__![IMG_5315.jpeg]( "IMG_5315.jpeg")
full book link here! (US store)
full book link here! (UK store)
other country, or for other series ;you can simply go to my Amazon author page : WrittenMuseum. !
To his right, in the distance, a dense line of tall pine trees stood like silent sentries, the tops swaying faintly with the breeze. The forest framed the edge of the camp, its deep green a stark contrast to the dull grays and browns of the yard. Jake found himself staring at the treeline, a flicker of longing rising in him—anything felt more inviting than the sharp scrutiny and discipline he’d been subjected to since he arrived.
On the far left, a series of two-story buildings lined the perimeter, their worn exteriors and small, square windows giving them a stark, utilitarian look, given the constant flow of uniformed men moving in and out, some carrying supplies, others engaged in conversation.
Scattered around the yard, clusters of men were busy with various tasks—carrying equipment, repairing sections of fencing, or simply talking among themselves. A few were in the middle of physical training, jogging around the perimeter or lifting weights near a makeshift gym area. The steady rhythm of work echoed around him, a reminder of the camp’s unending routine.
But no matter where he looked, Jake couldn’t shake the self-conscious awareness that he was the only one out here without a stitch of clothing. His bare skin felt exposed under the open sky, the occasional glances from others only serving to heighten his discomfort. He fought the urge to cover himself, reminding himself of Reeve’s stern command to keep his composure. With a deep breath, he forced himself to keep walking, doing his best to ignore the looks and the tension that simmered just beneath the surface.
Reeve gestured toward a structure to the left, and they walked closer. As they approached, Jake took in the details: a long metal trough, weathered and dented, stretching along the ground like something lifted straight from a rural farm. Pipes extended from either end, feeding into drainage grates, and overhead, a small, dilapidated barn structure cast a faint shadow, offering minimal shelter from the sun. The entire setup had a crude, almost makeshift feel, and Jake couldn’t help but notice how stark and barren the area seemed, lacking any semblance of comfort or privacy.
The closer they got, the stronger the scent became—a pungent mix of stale urine and damp metal, an unpleasant assault that made Jake instinctively wrinkle his nose. He glanced at the trough with a sinking feeling, already suspecting what Reeve was about to explain. The thought of this being his designated bathroom sent a wave of resentment through him, a bitter reminder of just how different his experience here would be.
Reeve stopped beside the trough, gesturing toward it with an air of casual authority. “This,” he began, his tone matter-of-fact, “is the outdoor bathroom for recruits. It’s simple and functional, just like everything else you’ll find around here. Think of it as your urinal. When you need to piss, you just stand here and do it in the trough. No fuss, no nonsense.”
Jake’s stomach twisted as he took in the setup, his mind railing against the indignity of it. This? A urinal? he thought bitterly, the term feeling absurd given the setup. But he kept silent, unwilling to let Reeve see his reaction.
Reeve continued, moving to a rusty valve above the trough. “Once you’re done, you’ll want to rinse it down. See this valve?” he said, giving it a firm twist. The pipe rattled faintly before an unsteady stream of water trickled down, splashing across the metal trough. Jake watched as the water sputtered and trickled its way along the bottom, gradually flowing toward the drain pipe at the end. The flow was weak, pooling in spots before slowly seeping toward the drain.
“Just like that,” Reeve said, nodding with satisfaction. “Once you’re finished, open the valve to rinse it down. Simple enough for a recruit to handle.” He shot Jake a pointed look. “Got it?”
Jake nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched as he forced himself to answer, “Yes, sir.” Inside, his mind was churning with irritation. Calling this thing a urinal is almost funny, he thought sarcastically, the crude setup making him feel more like livestock than a new recruit.
Reeve’s gaze remained steady, clearly observing every flicker in Jake’s face. “The sooner you adjust, the better. This isn’t a place for luxuries.” His tone carried an unmistakable finality, as if to remind Jake of his place in the hierarchy here.
__
full book link here! (US store)
full book link here! (UK store)
other country, or for other series ;you can simply go to my Amazon author page : WrittenMuseum. !
Jake clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly as he swallowed down the urge to protest. So this is what I’m stuck with, he thought, the frustration simmering beneath his controlled exterior.
Reeve’s gaze drifted downward, his eyes settling on Jake’s exposed penis with a cold, assessing look that carried a subtle hint of something else, a trace of challenge. “So,” Reeve said, his voice detached but with an unmistakable trace of amusement, “feel like giving it a try?”
Jake’s cheeks flushed, a wave of discomfort washing over him as he felt the weight of Reeve’s question sink in. He shifted slightly, acutely aware of the tension building in his abdomen. It was true—he hadn’t relieved himself since leaving home that morning, and the subtle urge to go was nagging at him. But the thought of doing it here, out in the open, under Reeve’s unblinking gaze, made his stomach twist with a mix of embarrassment and unease. It was both absurd and humiliating.
He swallowed, managing to keep his voice steady as he replied, “Not now, sir.”
Reeve shrugged, clearly unfazed by the response. “Suit yourself,” he said briskly, his tone returning to its usual formality. “We’ve got more to cover.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and continued walking, moving with that same unyielding stride. Jake nodded slightly, barely catching his breath as he began to follow, his own movements more tentative. But as he walked, each step brought a fresh wave of awareness—the soft but unyielding brush of his tip against his thigh with every stride, a faint, frustrating reminder of his vulnerability.
The sensations mingled uncomfortably: the quiet but insistent urge in his abdomen, the cool air brushing over his skin, and the subtle, involuntary arousal that prickled just beneath the surface. It felt as though each step only deepened his discomfort, his body caught between conflicting instincts. Trying to keep his expression neutral, he forced himself to focus on Reeve’s back, hoping the walk would distract him from the strange, unwelcome sensations coursing through him.
As they continued walking, Jake felt his discomfort deepen with each step. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Reeve intended to march him around the camp, especially given the crude “bathroom” they’d just passed. The pressure in his abdomen was growing, an uncomfortable reminder that he hadn’t relieved himself since leaving home. His thoughts churned, each step making him more aware of the awkward urgency building inside.
Finally, unable to hold back, he cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. “Uh… sir… I think… maybe…”
Reeve stopped mid-step and turned, a slight, knowing smile playing at his lips. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and challenge, as if he’d been waiting for this. He let out a low, throaty chuckle, clearly entertained by Jake’s struggle.
“Alright,” Reeve replied
They made their way back to the metal trough—the crude “urinal” assigned to him. Jake stood before it, his heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and tension as he faced the setup, the reality of the situation settling heavily over him. The open air around him and Reeve’s unyielding presence just beside him made every inch of his skin feel exposed. He stole a brief glance up, catching Reeve’s steady, assessing gaze fixed on him, his expression expectant and unyielding.
“Hurry up,” Reeve commanded, his voice cutting through Jake’s hesitation like a blade.
Jake’s face burned, but he swallowed down his pride, feeling the inevitable press of urgency in his abdomen. Reluctantly, he lowered his hands, his fingers wrapping around his cock as he prepared to finally relieve himself. The act felt excruciatingly exposed, his bare body vulnerable in front of Reeve’s scrutinizing eyes. Taking a steadying breath, he let himself go, feeling the warm stream push through, trickling from the tip of his glans before splashing against the metal trough. The sharp, echoing sound filled the air, amplifying his sense of exposure and humiliation.
The stream continued, steady and warm, the unmistakable sensation of release mingling with the mortification of his situation. His eyes fixed straight ahead, but he was acutely aware of the sensation, the warmth leaving his body, the flow pouring from his cock, unshielded, with Reeve’s gaze still taking in every detail. The sound was constant, unrelenting, ringing out as he felt the pressure in his abdomen ease.
Gradually, the stream began to slow, softening to a trickle before coming to a stop. His face burned hotter as he gave himself a quick shake, feeling the weight of Reeve’s gaze still on him, and finally let go, freeing his penis as he reached for the rusty valve to rinse down the trough. He twisted the handle, watching as a weak stream of water sputtered out, trickling down and carrying the yellowed liquid toward the drain.
“Good boy,” Reeve said, his voice low, laced with a satisfaction that only deepened Jake’s discomfort, a trace of approval that left him feeling stripped down in every sense.
__![IMG_5315.jpeg]( "IMG_5315.jpeg")
full book link here! (US store)
full book link here! (UK store)
other country, or for other series ;you can simply go to my Amazon author page : WrittenMuseum. !
Reeve’s gaze drifted downward, his eyes settling on Jake’s exposed penis with a cold, assessing look that carried a subtle hint of something else, a trace of challenge. “So,” Reeve said, his voice detached but with an unmistakable trace of amusement, “feel like giving it a try?”
Jake’s cheeks flushed, a wave of discomfort washing over him as he felt the weight of Reeve’s question sink in. He shifted slightly, acutely aware of the tension building in his abdomen. It was true—he hadn’t relieved himself since leaving home that morning, and the subtle urge to go was nagging at him. But the thought of doing it here, out in the open, under Reeve’s unblinking gaze, made his stomach twist with a mix of embarrassment and unease. It was both absurd and humiliating.
He swallowed, managing to keep his voice steady as he replied, “Not now, sir.”
Reeve shrugged, clearly unfazed by the response. “Suit yourself,” he said briskly, his tone returning to its usual formality. “We’ve got more to cover.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and continued walking, moving with that same unyielding stride. Jake nodded slightly, barely catching his breath as he began to follow, his own movements more tentative. But as he walked, each step brought a fresh wave of awareness—the soft but unyielding brush of his tip against his thigh with every stride, a faint, frustrating reminder of his vulnerability.
The sensations mingled uncomfortably: the quiet but insistent urge in his abdomen, the cool air brushing over his skin, and the subtle, involuntary arousal that prickled just beneath the surface. It felt as though each step only deepened his discomfort, his body caught between conflicting instincts. Trying to keep his expression neutral, he forced himself to focus on Reeve’s back, hoping the walk would distract him from the strange, unwelcome sensations coursing through him.
As they continued walking, Jake felt his discomfort deepen with each step. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Reeve intended to march him around the camp, especially given the crude “bathroom” they’d just passed. The pressure in his abdomen was growing, an uncomfortable reminder that he hadn’t relieved himself since leaving home. His thoughts churned, each step making him more aware of the awkward urgency building inside.
Finally, unable to hold back, he cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. “Uh… sir… I think… maybe…”
Reeve stopped mid-step and turned, a slight, knowing smile playing at his lips. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and challenge, as if he’d been waiting for this. He let out a low, throaty chuckle, clearly entertained by Jake’s struggle.
“Alright,” Reeve replied
They made their way back to the metal trough—the crude “urinal” assigned to him. Jake stood before it, his heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and tension as he faced the setup, the reality of the situation settling heavily over him. The open air around him and Reeve’s unyielding presence just beside him made every inch of his skin feel exposed. He stole a brief glance up, catching Reeve’s steady, assessing gaze fixed on him, his expression expectant and unyielding.
“Hurry up,” Reeve commanded, his voice cutting through Jake’s hesitation like a blade.
Jake’s face burned, but he swallowed down his pride, feeling the inevitable press of urgency in his abdomen. Reluctantly, he lowered his hands, his fingers wrapping around his cock as he prepared to finally relieve himself. The act felt excruciatingly exposed, his bare body vulnerable in front of Reeve’s scrutinizing eyes. Taking a steadying breath, he let himself go, feeling the warm stream push through, trickling from the tip of his glans before splashing against the metal trough. The sharp, echoing sound filled the air, amplifying his sense of exposure and humiliation.
The stream continued, steady and warm, the unmistakable sensation of release mingling with the mortification of his situation. His eyes fixed straight ahead, but he was acutely aware of the sensation, the warmth leaving his body, the flow pouring from his cock, unshielded, with Reeve’s gaze still taking in every detail. The sound was constant, unrelenting, ringing out as he felt the pressure in his abdomen ease.
Gradually, the stream began to slow, softening to a trickle before coming to a stop. His face burned hotter as he gave himself a quick shake, feeling the weight of Reeve’s gaze still on him, and finally let go, freeing his penis as he reached for the rusty valve to rinse down the trough. He twisted the handle, watching as a weak stream of water sputtered out, trickling down and carrying the yellowed liquid toward the drain.
“Good boy,” Reeve said, his voice low, laced with a satisfaction that only deepened Jake’s discomfort, a trace of approval that left him feeling stripped down in every sense.
__
full book link here! (US store)
full book link here! (UK store)
other country, or for other series ;you can simply go to my Amazon author page : WrittenMuseum. !
