Deck Dogs: Diary Entry CB-028

This is an erotic entry set in a purely fantastical alt setting; all characters are over 18 years of age.

The following story's featured themes include: domination/ submission, humiliation, reluctant sex, erotic slavery/service, mild emotional games, exhibition, voyeurism, filthy enjoyment and crude language. If these are not your fetishes or deem them offensive, please do not read any further.

For readers, please enjoy the following degenerate tale.

This is a work of absolute fiction.

**************************

[[The following excerpts were compiled from various testimonies and diaries left from the "Deck Dog" Project, majority involving B-Class Comfort Officer [______], Fleet Alias: "CryBaby". Surveying the participants and partakers of the program; these recounts have been recorded to analyze and assess the behaviors and performance of this unit, assembled to study stress relief within the armed naval forces.]]

[[Specific names have been redacted for public release.]]

Diary Log; Entry 28-CB:

Assigned Deck Dog: B-Class Comfort Officer [______]

Alias: "CryBaby"

Handler: SD Unit Officer [______]

Ref Code: #028-3-SD-CB

**The following is a recovered diary entry.

** Details, as requested by Dr. [_________], are recorded in as much detail as each Deck Dog is able to retain throughout their participation in Project DD. Mandatory entries are requested after each 'Maintenance Check" before full round deployment.

[[Begin Entry. . . II]]

[DATE REDACTED], 05: 45-ish - Cafeteria

It was morning; the usual table, the usual meal, the usual cycle of waiting before the real work started.

"This next boat's full of 'boots'!"

"Don't you have enough shoes Sweets?" I yawned.

Sweet Cheek spews at me,

"You dumb shit; you're not listening again. Not shoes, I said 'boots'; fresh boot camp toys to meet and properly 'greet'."

She giggled, letting out that subtle snort she denies she has.

"If you're going to make a name for yourself in this program CB, you have to keep up with the new ones too."

"That's stupid, they never remember our names."

I bite back, sipping at my cup of lukewarm water.

"And I don't care much for their names either. It all sounds the same anyway when your mouth's full."

Sweet Cheek sputtered out chuckles in-between mouthfuls of breakfast she had stuffed into her face. I don't know why I always had breakfast with her, made me never want to touch my own food. That shit makes me sick before rounds anyway . . .

The intercom screeched a few minutes later,

"Mutts to 'Maintenance Checks'! Mutts to 'Maintenance Checks'! "

Sweets finished her breakfast (and mine . . .) before letting out another snort, grunting through her nose like the lovable posh pig she was. The fleets sugar baby, our resident "Miss Piggy". Her puffy cheeks always bounced when she chortled and caused flakes of caked on pricey blush to sprinkle everywhere. You could always tell she was a 'higher up honey'; a favorite due to the pink powdery hue in their quarters and on their clothing.

"Says you; the Bruiser with a crush!"

Sweets jabbed her plump elbow into my ribs. Poke, poke, and poke.

"One day you'll tell us who your "Last Call Liaison" is; don't be dumb."

Sweets then paused for a bit.

"You know the Alphas like Twig and I are allowed to read the visitor rosters . . . The pack isn't stupid."

I never liked that rule . . .

"It's nothing like that you snooping pig . . ." I gurgled into my tin cup.

"What's that now?"

Sweets fired back as she flicked curled strands of hair over her shoulders and checked her nails; pursing her lips together and smearing a streak of bubblegum pink across the tip of her teeth.

"I said 'Have you seen Twig?", I haven't seen him this morning."

I think Sweets and I just liked the sound of talking, we never did 'listen' to each other properly. She kept checking her nails, these lacquered eyesores painted a terrible shade of sea foam green, a specific Admirals favorite color she'd said.

"I think Twig already did 'Maintenance Check" earlier. Monty said he had an early round booked before deployment."

"Aren't you on rounds too?"

I asked, stupid because I already knew the answer when it came to Sweet Cheek.

She'd do the usual flippant shake of her wrists, always wearing at least 4 charm bracelets from her 'fan club' of higher ups, giggle like a girl child, then grin at me with her rose tinged horse veneer teeth.

"Silly Baby, I haven't had to do rounds for the past 4 deployments. You really should get more popular if you want the perks of a higher ranked Deck Dog."

"I am popular . . ." I smirked.

"You're fucked up." Sweets laughed again.

At this time I remember the double doors of the cafeteria burst open and Assistant Handler Moss would come scuttling in. The pack used to joke about him being the only 'bitch' not getting fucked in Unit Officer [______]'s squad. He was a short man with an even shorter temper.

"Sweets! Baby! Get your asses down to 'Maintenance Check' before we ship out. Monty has been up my behind all morning to find you two! Baby, get to medical now! Sweets, get to the Admiral's quarters once you're cleared. I shouldn't have to round you dogs up all the time."

Moss really liked to yell, it was actually worrisome if he went a whole day without getting his rocks off to shouting down the dogs. He'd always have the hardest little erection after a good yelling at, adorable.

Before he'd leave Moss would give me a once over and harp to Sweets,

"And give Baby a touch up every ten hours after leave, nails and face. We have a thirsty bunch on this trip."

"Sir! Yes sir!"

We both respond in unison, not an ounce of sincerity in our salutes. Handler Moss grunted and shuffled away, Sweets blowing him a loud, sloppy goodbye air kiss. (Mwah!)

As we made our way to check up I remember saying to Sweets,

"Any color but that shit green you're sporting . . ."

"It's called "Mermaid's Kiss" you ass! If it wasn't my ranks job to make sure you Bruiser's got to 'maintenance check' on time . . ."

[DATE REDACTED], 07: 00 - Medic Pavilion, Exam Room

"Alright, over the table and spread for me Baby."

"I know the drill Monty."

"It's Doctor or Officer when on duty! How many merit strikes were you planning on snagging already? You haven't even left shore; don't make me the first again . . ."

I smugly chuckled as she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, with a dramatic flair no less.

Medical Officer Doctor Monika Brinn; known as "Monty" to the pack and our resident quality inspection personnel for each deployment.

She was a woman who 'thoroughly' enjoyed her job.

"I know the drill . . . Officer Brinn." I sarcastically answered as I undid my belt and pants. That room always had a biting coldness to it and would give me goose bumps even before Monty would start.

Dropping my slacks to my knees, I turned and curled over the sterile exam table.

Bent at the hip, arched at the back, legs evenly spread and tailbone pointed up, always prop up on the elbows and never the chest. Keep your neck up and eye line straight, your heels planted, and breaths even.

"You have perfect posture as always, no need for correction there. You're stubborn, but definitely well trained . . . for now."

Monty rambles on as she checks off my paperwork, the same pen scratches working their way through the list of 'equipment' criteria. After a bit Monty sets down her clipboard, adjusts her glasses, and begins circling me.

My skin felt tight with the smooth draft around us, causing me to mildly flinch when I felt sterile latex brush against my backside.

Starting with soft touches, like a prized show dog, she started checking me over.

She'd lift and lower my chin, smoothly caress my breasts and vulnerable belly, run her fingers down my spine.

I started letting out small mewling moans whenever her warm hands found a fresh bruise or tender spot. My breaths slow, Monty would run her palm over the curve of my taught ass and start cooing at me.

"Mmm, this last rest period was a good call by Dr. [_________]; you're pretty well used from your last set of rounds. The Captain told him he wanted his favorite pack to be in 'long haul' condition for this trip."

I couldn't help but laugh out of turn.

"The Captain's favorite pack? Everyone knows Sweet Cheek and Twig are the reason this unit is kept off the 'tester' boats. If those two Alphas weren't the fleet favorites we'd be like any other pack, collared to bunks in berthing giving shift change blowjobs to the 'stress testers'."

Monty gives me a firm, hard spank on the rear; hard enough to leave a clean latex hand-print. I couldn't help but bite my lip in guilty pleasure as she scolded me.

"When I hear the crew talk about how much they love your 'big mouth', this is not what they mean. Quit being a brat CB, I have Booster coming in after and he takes forever to get hard for 'maintenance check'."

I just can't help provoking people, especially when my pants are already down.

"Booster's a switch, since when does he have to be hard for all his rounds?" I sneered.

Another firm, welcomed smack on my rear; a healthy blush of pink begins to cover my right butt cheek.

"I said 'Not another word'!" Monty hisses over my back, continuing to caress the warm patch she had laid on me.

I let out a sharp breath through my front teeth and spread my legs a little wider, my slacks stretching apart as far as the waistband allows and cutting into the side of the plump thighs.

A small, moist bead glistens and drips as Monty slides two gloved fingers down through my buttock and begins to massage my wet slit.

"Your response time is still lightning fast, good girl; such a good little slut in the pack."

She picks up a pen with her free, clean hand and continues marking the nearby clipboard. She continued to massage me without taking her eyes off her papers.

Massaging, teasing, swirling her slick fingers around, making me begin to pant and wriggle slightly.

Monty continued to prattle on,

"Why do some of you dogs even need 'maintenance check'? You sluts are always ready for duty. Twig is practically solid every time he comes for checks. . . quite thick too."

Monty inserts one finger briefly then returns to massaging, making me ache and mutter something about her sadistic love of being a teasing bitch. She keeps talking.

"Unless you're like Poppy . . . lost another tooth for biting down, poor girl never seems to remember her training."

Another single finger goes in for a moment, small beads of sweat roll down the small of my back.

On the clipboard nearby I could just make out the large, red block letters spelling out "OBEDIENCE TRAINING" lower down on my forms.

Again, I couldn't help myself and spoke out of turn.

"Too bad the only 'wet' part of Poppy is her mouth, losing teeth at her rate makes her perfect for berthing rounds anyway."

Without hesitation or warning, Monty jams her two gloved fingers deep into my teased hole; causing me to yelp and jumble the pronunciation of 'anyway' as I spoke. Slowly, she began to pump steadily in and out, her latex glove thickly coated in warm gobs of pussy spit.

"Down girl, you should save your sass mouth for when you're shipped out. I'm almost finished with your check up."

Monty makes another mark on the clipboard.

I start drooling as she continues pushing her fingers into me, a soft squelching echoing out as I continued to get wetter. Keeping me eye contact locked ahead as we dogs are trained to do.

Abruptly Monty then pulled her fingers out, a thick string of wet tugs and breaks off; splattering the back of my leg. I could only get a couple of ragged, uneven breaths in before she turned her palm back up and forced now four fingers back inside me.

I moaned loudly from the sensation of being suddenly stuffed.

I caught Monty's devious smile as she, with her free hand, cupped the front of my throat and brought me up face to face. She continued to finger me ferociously from behind for a little, my spine wiggling as waves of dirty enjoyment rippled through.

Her breathes were hot as she panted to me, digging her slender fingers further in.

"Let's test those lungs of yours now before we finish our visit."

We kiss for a beat, as she continued intensely violating me.

Our tongues lapped together and I could feel myself getting wetter and hotter, getting more depraved and wanting release.

We break and I bend myself back into proper position, Monty resuming her steady fingering; four digits, three knuckles deep. As her thrusts got harder, my moans got louder and my drooling more intense; with each and every heavier push of her fingers.

Monty leaned in and whispered,

"Cry for me Baby, show us what makes you a good dog."

I gritted my teeth as Monty toyed with me more roughly, my insides began to feel hot and my skin flushed. I remember gasping between stifled huffs as I felt my guts swirl and my head going hazy.

I was reaching my breaking point, my vision going sparkly, when I heard Monty speak out, "Say it!"

"Ah . . .ha.. hah . ah . . Say . . what?",

Monty, that bitch, had a thing for making dogs say stupid things.

"Say it Baby. . . . Or I'll deploy you frustrated." Monty grinned, such a wicked grin.

I kept gasping out garbled words,

"That's . . .ah . . . not fair! It's so . . . . mmmhm!! . . . dumb! Ah fuck, right there!"

"Say it Baby, be a good girl . . . for me?"

Monty pouted as she dug into my g-spot, sending tides of teasing jolts through my body.

"mmm! Fuck! Fine . . AH!"

I spit out, my voice squeaking as I desperately held on till I could clearly comply.

"P . . p .. Permission to cum . . ah . ah . . aboard!" I finally coughed out.

I hated this joke . . . . Every third or fourth request in a dogs round usually ends with this dumb catchphrase, and everyone thinks they're clever for using it.

Ensign's especially loved these lines the most.

Monty continues fingering me silently for a long beat, letting out a deliciously wicked giggle over making me cater to this juvenile request. By this point my mind was almost blank and I was moaning with such bestial volume for the outer halls and adjacent rooms to hear.

For a brief second, I did wonder who was going to get caught masturbating in the corridor this time. 'Maintenance Check' weeks are the favorite of fresh boots lucky enough to score this route for patrol.

Curious, with the small shred of clear thought I had still, I glanced over to the doorway.

Right there, as was custom, I spied a lonely Ensign peeping through the cracked door of the exam room. Dirty Monty, never liked to shut her door for appointments. This Ensign must've been new; normally they don't whip out their cocks fully the first time. I caught his glance as he tugged rapidly at his rock hard dick, and smiled. They're so cute when they're frantically trying to stuff their masts back into their pants when they're caught.

Being watched only made me wetter.

"Permission granted!"

Monty finally answered, I had completely lost track of how long I was made to wait.

One more hard, gushing thrust finally forced me over the edge as my knees buckled and the climax rippled through. It crept up along my spine as I let out a moan of pure ecstasy. The orgasm shook my core and my legs became drenched.

I let out a long gasp and cradled my head down into my hands to collect myself.

Monty slowly, teasing, slid her fingers out.

As I stood at the table taking a few hard breaths, Monty slipped off her dripping gloves and made her way to a small nearby cart; picking up a towel and clean pair of uniform pants. She plopped those down next to me, grabbed her clipboard, and sat down at her desk to complete her check list as I stripped and toweled off.

"Well?" Am I 'ship shape" or what? " I chuckled sheepishly afterward.

You pick up a lot of cheesy phrases in this line of work . . . I can't help it.

Another pause, Monty just gives me a blank, unimpressed look before relaxing.

"You're a grade-A cocksucker CB, and a shit comedian as always . . ."

She reviewed the clipboard.

"But, you're fine. I'd watch the back talk as always, but fine. Now check in with your Handler and get your booking roster confirmed. I've still got a bossy twink to tug at before the whole pack is good to go."

"Thanks . . . Officer Brinn", I nod my head as I finish buttoning my fresh slacks.

As I exited, Monty yelled after me.

"Take these slacks to laundry before deployment! That's not the kind of 'dirty bitches' we need in this fleet, Comfort Officer!"

I doubled back, briefly locking stares with the still erect Ensign standing in the corridor, grabbed my crotch soaked uniform pants, and finally took my full leave.

"Yes ma'am . . ." I muttered as Booster entered for his 'maintenance check'.

"Booster . . . no, leave the door open sweetheart."

I heard Monty say rather loudly, I guess I wasn't the only one who saw Ensign "Eager" over here.

Screw it, I was still antsy . . .

I slid over to this fresh sailor, sweet looking guy trying to ignore being caught.

"Hey Ensign, enjoy the free show?"

Oh, he was flustered for sure.

"Uh . . Officer . . um . . . I . ."

I cupped his groin, rock hard and throbbing under the thick uniform; biting my bottom lip as I pressed my body closer to his. Glancing over to the cracked door of Monty's office, she already had Booster on the table and his (rather impressive) cock in her eager mouth. The Ensign saw this too, his own dick twitching at the unbelievable situation he'd found himself in.

I kept grinding my palm into his aching groin.

Let's give a new sailor a fun story to tell the squad later.

"First deployment, sailor?"

"Oh . . . uh . . Fuck. Um . . . you're . . . you're not going to tell my superior are you?" I . . . oh shit."

He kept blubbering as I unzipped his pants, gently pulling out his thickened shaft and continued steadily stroking him.

Occasionally I'd hear Monty gag as she continued Booster's check.

"I asked you a question Ensign. First deployment?" I cooed again.

"Ah! . . yeah. First assignment too . . to. . uh . . medic patrol."

"Oooh, well I think that deserves a proper 'welcome' to the fleet."

Not even a second to question, I squatted down and wrapped my lips around this hungry Ensign's mast. Poor guy almost lost his balance and had braced himself against the corridor wall. He yelped so loudly I could hear Monty giggle in her office.

The Ensign just stood there, stifling his excited moans from this surprise service. I looked up and watched him stare at Monty and Booster through the door, his rigid dick twitching in the back of my throat and spurning small tears to well up in the corners of my eyes. Beads of spit were rolling down my chin and I could feel my raw slit getting wet again.

After a beat I could hear Monty again.

"Okay Booster, let's check your stamina."

I never saw what Monty and Booster were doing, one could assume the obvious, but in a flash the Ensign had me back up on my feet.

He had flipped me forward against the cold wall; face pressed against the bolts but turned the opposite way from the cracked door. My slacks tugged back down, and that hot stuffed sensation filling me up again. The Ensign had shoved his eager dick into me and was pumping away furiously. He held the side of my head; pinned against the wall while he watched the show in Monty's office for himself. His other hand digging intensely into my hip with a strong grip.

I moaned deeply; he's going to fit right in with the rest of these degenerates.

"Oh god . . . . Fuck. I'm . . I'm gonna cum . . .shit!" The Ensign grunted out.