Thrice Rescued - Sex Stories

Thrice Rescued

... limited wardrobe and the couple of other things I owned and placed them in Gunny H's car. He drove me to his house, helped me unload, and moved me into an empty bedroom. I didn't know it at the time, but the next four years would make me a whole new person.

CHAPTER TWO

Life with Gunny and Mrs. H (as they told me to call them at home) was radically different from any prior foster care experience. They were the first people to care about me since my grandmother. From day one, they made clear that there was going to be structure, hard work (both educationally and physically), and discipline. Mrs. H dedicated her evenings to bringing my academics up to grade level. By the time I reached age 18, I was taking college prep courses and doing well in them. I'd never be the valedictorian, but I could hold my own in every class I took. A's and B's were expected; anything lower meant more hours of study. And Gunny H put me through an equally vigorous physical training program. He hauled me out of bed at 5:30 each morning for a 5-mile run. And he undertook to provide a rigorous martial arts training program, which he combined with strength and flexibility conditioning. By the time I completed high school, I was 5'10" tall, 160 pounds, and in the best shape of anyone I knew except Gunny H.

I'd turned 18 shortly before I graduated, which meant I'd aged out of the foster care system. I had been working part-time at the martial arts studio, training elementary school-age students. ...

... After the graduation party, Gunny H sat me down and asked me what my plans for the future were. I told him I wanted to be a Marine. He asked me if I were sure, as the military involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan were both at their height. I said I was. He and Mrs. H took me down to the Marine Corps recruiter's office, where I enlisted. I had a month before reporting to Parris Island for boot camp. Gunny H put me through an even more rigorous training program than that I'd previously experienced, so I wouldn't "embarrass him to any of his buddies who were drill instructors" there.

I would never tell a DI this, but after four years of living with the Hopkins and training with Gunny H, Parris Island was almost like a vacation. I graduated with honors, carrying the company guidon in the graduation parade. Gunny and Mrs. H were in the stands watching me. By this time, I thought of them as my parents, and I was proud to show them what a good job they'd done raising me.

My intent upon enlisting had been to make the Marine Corps a career, but a Taliban with an RPG put an end to that notion. I was nearing the end of my first enlistment and had been promoted to Sergeant. I was the squad leader for a security detail, providing protection to our battalion commander when he met with one of the local village chieftains about funding a clean water project in their village. On the way back to base, the convoy was attacked. My squad was riding in the lead vehicle. The battalion commander ...