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Little Soldier: The Training of a Submissive Ch. 01

By: heidi77



Chapter 1: THE INTERROGATION

Description:

I work as a secretary at the General's office in the **** barracks of North Queensland. One day two masked and hooded men broke in and violently interrogated me. 

Body:

The day was pleasant enough. The General was away and I was sorting through correspondence at his desk when suddenly two masked soldiers burst in. They were dressed in combat gear and had balaclavas over their faces. 

The first one rushed to the desk and slammed down his rifle. I pulled back in alarm.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I – I'm General Hood's personal assistant," I stammered.

"Where is he?" he shot back.

"He's on vacation. Till Thursday. They've all gone away for the Training Day. What's happening? What are you doing here?" I managed to squeak.

The other one, still standing at the door, spoke to me. 

"How can we be sure you're not the enemy?"

"The enemy?" I stuttered.

"We're on war games. There's an alert out," said the first, darting to the window, his rifle raised. "You could be the enemy."

"Well, I – I – I'm not," I said coming to my senses. "Look, I have a security pass."

"Let's see," said the one at the door striding over to where I was sitting.

"Better close these blinds," said the guy at the window. "And lock that door from the inside, Dave." He was pointing to the only door out of the room. They won't find us here – if we're in the General's office."

Dave took my pass which was hanging round my neck and stared hard at the laminated finish. I stood up shakily. We were standing very close.

"Lucinda Moore. That your name?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes," I muttered, looking down and away from him.

"This could be fake, Phil." He dropped the pass and turned to Dave. Then just as suddenly he rounded on me.

"How can you prove that you work here and that you're a personal assistant?"

"Well, there's no way. You'll just have to take my word for it," I tried to sound calm and not threatened by the guns and violence that hummed in the air.

"Don't you have a payslip or –"

"Look," I moaned getting seriously desperate, "I'm just a secretary. I do the books – pays, things like that. Really, I'm not a threat. I don't know what you're doing here. Please let me out."

"So you have a list of employees on this computer?" said Dave, ignoring my plea and swinging his rifle idly towards the computer on the General's desk.

"Yes," I said.

"So find Lucinda Moore and that'll prove it," Dave said abruptly.

Anxiously, I opened the program, scanned the names and clicked on mine. Within seconds, I had printed mine out. Phil peeped out of the blinds and Dave got closer and closer to me.

"There!" I said as I snatched it off the printer with relief. "You see, I'm Lucinda Moore and I'm PA to General Hood.'

Dave studied it for a minute or two. I thought he still didn't believe me. 

Finally he said, "So you're Lucinda Moore and you live at 35 Sunshine Road, Perton. Married with no kids. Husband's name: Brandon." He paused at looked at me straight in the eye. "You're twenty-three years of age and you've been here eighteen months."

"Yes, yes, that's right. That's me." I went to take the paper from him but he folded it against his chest and pocketed it.

I looked at him in silence.

"We better go, Dave," said Phil, turning back into the room. 

"Why?" asked Dave slowly. "Nobody'll think of looking for us here. We could stay here until ops finish."

"What – hide out here?"

"I think it's the perfect place." He looked me up and down, his rifle slung to one side. Slowly, he brought the weapon up the inside of my thigh and lifted my skirt. He pushed it right up to my panty line so the skirt flared up and revealed my long legs.

"So, Lucinda Moore of 35 Sunshine Road Perton, what are you doing for the next hour?" I cowed from the touch of his gun. "Or two?"

"Are you really thinking of -?" began Phil.

"I reckon she'd be a goer, don't you, Phil?"

Phil started appraising me as if he hadn't noticed before. I cursed myself for wearing my low cut blouse to work that morning. Instinctively, I pulled my jacket over my cleavage. He continued looking at me. 

"I don't know, Dave," he said as he walked over towards me. "You'd better ask her."

"Are you a goer, Mrs Lucinda Moore? Do you like it when your husband stuffs you like a baked tomato? Do you cum all over him? How often do you do it? Heh? I only want to know. You can share that, can't you?"

"I – I – have to go. I can't stay. Please let me go."

"Ah, the little princess wants to go. Shall we let her go, Phil?"

"I don't know, Dave," said Phil, stepping forward. "It depends if you think she's the enemy or not. I mean, if she's the enemy, we have to get certain information out of her."

"You know what, Phil, that's very good thinking. Mrs Moore, are you prepared to answer a few questions?"

I started to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not the enemy. I know nothing. I just work here. Please let me -"

"Right!" shouted Dave and he slapped me fiercely across the face. "That's enough of that. No crying! Do you understand? While we interrogate you, you will behave like a proper soldier! Have you no respect for yourself?"

"That's right," said Phil. "Pull yourself together."

"What do you want to know? I don't know anything. Nothing at all." 

Dave moved closer to me. His gun was still brushing against my inner thigh. 

"On the contrary, Mrs Moore. You know a lot of secrets."

"What secrets?" 

"Like, for example," he said as if conjuring up the question out of thin air. "How often do you and your husband – what's his name, Brandon? – fuck?"

Phil had come round behind me and started brushing his fingers up the inside of my skirt from the back. I cursed myself for wearing something so short. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"Didn't you hear me??" shouted Dave. "I'll ask you again – how often do you and Brandon do it?"

"What? Well – I don't know..." I trailed off. 

"We can soon find out!" said Dave sharply and he grabbed my neck and twisted me onto my back on the General's desk. I launched myself up but he was quicker than me and slammed me back down by my throat. Phil leaned over and pinned me by my shoulders. 

Dave placed his rifle against the desk and pulled out a switchblade. I could see him through the balaclava licking his lips. Suddenly there was silence. Dave had my throat. Phil had my shoulders. And I saw Dave's knife come closer and closer. 

"Oh, no..." I murmured.

"What's that, soldier? Are you capitulating?"

"What do I have to do? Just tell me and I'll do it," I asked pleadingly.

"Just answer some questions. Then we'll go away," said Dave.

"Sure," said Phil. "We have some questions. That's all. We promise."

"What do you want to know?"

"How-Often-Do-You-And-Mr-Moore-Make-Love?" Dave said as if he was spelling it out to me.

"A-a-a-bout twice a week... I think," I stammered.

"And when did you last make love?" he asked, pronouncing every word as if I was deaf.

"I don't know. Last Sunday, I think."

"Good girl, that's very good," he looked up at Phil. "So, Phil, do you think she's telling the truth?"

"Nah!" said Phil dismissively. "No, you can smell cum on her."

"Can you?" Dave asked innocently. "Can you really, Phil?"

"Yeah, and I reckon that's bullshit about only doing it twice a week. You can see she's as horny as hell. They're probably going like dog and bitch every hour of the day."

There was a pause.

"My partner thinks you're lying, soldier," Dave stated. "I think we have to find out."

He bent out of my sight and the next thing I felt was my skirt being thrown over my belly. I stared up at Phil with tears in my eyes. I was silently asking him to stop this.

"Oh, look at this, Phil. Look at these panties. These aren't married women's panties. These aren't good old stay-at-home-with-the-slippers panties. These are your real come-on, frilly fuck-me panties. Either Mrs Moore has a lover, or Mr Moore is one very lucky man." He ran the blade of the knife over the top of the white lace panties. Slowly, very slowly.he brought the knife back into my view. 

"Now," he said softly. "Do you know what I'm going to do, Lucinda? You don't mind if I call you Lucinda, do you?"

I struggled a smile through gritted teeth and bit my cheek to stop myself crying.

"I'm just going to have a sniff.... Down there. To see if you've been telling the truth. Okay with you?" He paused. "Do you think that's fair enough, Phil?"

"I think that's very fair, Dave. You have a captive. They tell you information. You gotta check that information. Go for it."

"Good! Now, Lucinda, I'm going to have to get rid of the panties. And the quickest way is to slice them. I hope you won't mind a knife so near your privates. I assure you I'm very careful. Very careful. But of course, if you move, you might get – cut." I took a sharp intake of breath. He pulled the panties away from my skin and sliced them in two in one quick movement. 

Without pausing for breath, he got down on his knees, yanked me towards him, cunt first, and ripped my soft skin apart with his fingers. 

"Pull her down further, towards me, Phil," he commanded. Phil slid me across the desk by my shoulders towards Dave's hungry face. His fingers pulled at my delicate skin and he buried his nose in my cunt. After a moment, he pulled away again.

"You know what, Phil?"

"What?" asked Phil.

"You were absolutely right. This slut has had it and she's had it recently." He tossed one leg aside, paused significantly and turned to me. "You've done it today, haven't you? I can smell it on you. You little whore. You're as wet as the fucking ocean."

"Yes," I admitted. "I did... I'm sorry. I- I – I –"

"You lied," said Dave with finality. And he brought out a hand gun and held it to my face. "Don't ever lie again," he said, bringing the gun up to my cheek. "Never lie to Private Phil and Sergeant Dave. We don't like it. You got that?"

"Come on, Dave, we haven't got much time. Let's just do it and piss off. Someone'll come in."

"Yes," I said quickly. "Someone'll hear you."

"Don't you remember anything, Phil?" asked Dave sarcastically. "They're all way on Training Day." And he turned back to look at me as he almost sing-songed the words. "We've got the whole afternoon to play with Lucinda Moore. And is there anything else you'd rather be doing, Lucinda, than helping two regular guys in the Australian army get their rocks off?"

It was then I knew I'd had it. I knew there was no way out. The best thing I could hope for was to come out of it in one piece and to make it happen as quickly as possible. I stared up at him and said quietly, "No, Dave. There's nothing I'd rather be doing than helping you get your rocks off."

"Good girl, Lucinda. But remember, we're in the army. You call me Sergeant kor Sir and you call him Private. Got that?"

I nodded and swore to myself I'd end this quickly.

"So, Lucinda," said Dave, taking the gun away from my cheek. "You have been rutting with someone. We were right, weren't we, the private and I?"

I nodded sadly.

"Whose cum is it?" he asked lazily.

"My husband's."

"And that's the truth?"

"Absolutely."

"You wouldn't lie to us again?"

"Never."

"Cos, you know, we could have a little accident here." He put the switchblade back in his pocket and slowly took out a hand gun.

"Common, Dave. My balls are killing me. Let's just get into her and quit wasting time," moaned Phil, clutching his groin.

"I'd like to find out a few things about Lucinda Moore before we go any further, but what do you think, Lucinda? Should we get down and dirty straight away?"

I was at a crossroads. If I carried on talking to them, someone might come and frighten them off. If I let them have their way now, it'd be over quicker. 

"Your call, Lucinda," repeated Dave. "Whatever you say is fine by us."

"I think – I think I'd like to talk a bit more," I suggested hesitantly.

"Okay, let's talk, but I want you to know –" he paused as drew a line down my body from throat to clit with his handgun " – I want you to know that we'll just keep my friend here around so's he can keep you honest. Cos you're a lying bitch, Lucinda, and everyone knows it. Isn't that so?" He paused. "Pardon? I didn't hear you..."

I nodded my head violently as he slipped the gun in between my legs and rammed it in my cunt sharply. 

"Ow!" I yelled. "Yes, I'm a lying bitch."

"Wow!" he gushed. "That's a nice feeling. What to feel this, Phil? The gun's right in her hole. Right up to the trigger. There's not a thing she can do but wriggle. Hey, Lucinda, can you wriggle out of this one?"

Dave got the gun in my cunt and started twisting it slowly and methodically about. Phil let go of my shoulders and I struggled up.

"Down, girl. We've got you right where we want you," ordered Dave. So I lay there while the two of them watched the gun going in and out of my cunt. "In – Out – In – Out." They set up a rhythm. I had to move with it to stop the pain.

After a while, Dave stood up. "You know, she's not slow on the uptake. Can you feel her moving with us, Phil?"

"Sure can, Dave," said Phil. 

"I think she's hungry for it. And look at the gun," he laughed. "it's covered in her juices!!"

"Please, please take it out!" I was terrified but lay back like I'd been told. I was so worried the thing would go off and explode inside me. 

"Now, now, calm down, it's just a little incentive for you to talk honestly to us," said Dave as he carried on sliding the gun in and out of my love hole.

"What do you want to know?" I whispered.

"Now this Brandon Moore. Is he a stud?"

"What? Yes, yes, he is."

"Hmmm... How big's that then?"

"I don't know. About six inches. I don't know. I'm sorry."

In – Out – In – Out. It was cold and hard in my pussy. I'd never had anything up there except Brandon.

"And do you do it doggy style?"

"Yes, sometimes. Really, please, I'll tell you the truth. Just take the gun out!"

"And do you suck him off?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes. Please stop. I can't think with that thing in me."

"What about your ass hole?"

"What??? NO! Never!"

"Really. Now that is interesting. And have you ever done it with two guys at the same time?"

"No, never. Please, please stop."

"You know, Private Phil, this bitch keeps on forgetting to say my rank. And it's getting on my tits! What shall we do to her?"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Sergeant Dave."

"Talking of tits, what size are you?"

"36D.... Sergeant."

"That's big. Can't see them under that jacket. Can you see them, Phil?"

"Nope."

"I think we should let the little babies bounce. Do you want to see them bounce, Phil?" He was still pulsing the gun in and out of my hole and backwards and forwards across my clit. "You do it. I'll carry on with the interrogation."

"I'm just busting, Dave. Can't we just go for the kill? Let's fuck her now."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm as happy as anything here. But Lucinda, you see the poor boy's problem?" He motioned to Phil's growing stiffy under his combat gear. "Yes, you go on, Phil. You take the face. I'll carry on here."

Phil grabbed me by the back of the neck and hauled me up. He took one arm out of my jacket and then the other. He pushed my head back down on the desk. It hurt. Then he tugged at his belt buckle, undid his fly and pulled his trousers down. His small cock was fit to burst. What it lost in length, it made up for in circumference. I turned my eyes away.

"And what about masturbation?" said Dave in his most friendly tone. "Do you like pulling the cherry?" 

"Yes, sometimes."

He rammed the gun home and shouted, "Stop with the 'sometimes'! When do you do it? How do you do it? Tell me, and tell me now, and, if you forget to call me 'Sergeant' one more time, you'll never see the outside of this room again!"

Even Phil stopped what he was doing. 

"Yes, sergeant," I said, dropping my head back on the desk.

There was a silence for a moment and then Phil mounted the desk and sat on my chest. 

"Don't do that yet, Private," said Dave. "How's she going to talk if she's got a mouth full of cock?"

"But Dave – " Phil murmured.

"Turn around and sit on her shoulders. Put your dick between those big assets of hers."

"Hey, that's a good idea," Phil agreed and began to turn around. 

"So – what's with spanking the beaver, Lucinda? Tell us all and give me details."

"I – I – " I could hardly breathe with Phil's weight on me, but I struggled to speak. "I do it alone in the shower. I get off on feeling the hot spray on my breasts and my – "

"Titties. You will now call them 'titties', Lucinda. They are just there for our pleasure. So give everything its right name. This is a –" and he jabbed the hand gun in forcefully, "cunt." He pulled the gun out and waved it at my breasts. "Those are your titties. This is – " he paused a moment as he looked down. "And this is your clit. Got it? Wow, it's standing up for good old Sergeant Dave! Look at it rise! What a red little clit it is!"

"Yes, sergeant," I agreed.

"Give me the knife, Dave, I want to take off her bra," interrupted Phil.

"Pretty bra," Dave commented as he handed Phil the knife. "You'll have to go round with no panties and no bra for the rest of the day, Lucinda. What will little Brandon say?"

I couldn't answer this as Phil was sitting on my neck.

"Please – I can't breathe," I whispered.

"Get up, Phil. Be a gentleman. Take the weight on the table."

So Phil got up and put one leg on either side of my arms, pinning me down and facing Dave who was at my crotch and leaving his arse for me to look at. 

"You know, Phil, that's a lovely sight. We should take a picture of that. Got a camera?"

Phil was engrossed in batting his stiffie against my floppy breasts. 

"Phil, you got a camera?"

"Huh? No. Oh, I've got my mobile."

"I'll get it out. He went to move away, but suddenly remembered the gun in my hole. "Now, Lucinda, would you like me to remove the gun or would you like it to stay there?"

"Please take it out, Sergeant Dave, please."

"Since you remembered so nicely what to call me, I will," and he took out the gun and sniffed it closely. 

As he picked up Phil's trousers and took out a mobile phone, he said, "You know what, Dave, this slut's been creaming herself all this time. The gun's as wet as anything. Can you believe she's that sick?"

"I – can – believe – anything – Dave," said Phil, cupping my breasts around his dong and squeezing them tightly, humping them up and down.

"Ah, here we are," said Dave, standing to the side and surveying the scene - Phil on top of me, his arse in my face and walloping his meat against my titties.

"That's great!" he said snapping away. "But smile, Lucinda. Remember you're on Candid Camera." Then he had another idea. "You know what you should do, Phil? Lower your arse and make her lick it. I think she'd go for that. Wouldn't you, pussy?"

I tried to move my shoulders but they were pinned on either side by Phil's legs. Suddenly, his bottom came down on top of me and Dave kept clicking away. 

"What do you say, pussy? Thank the kind man for offering you his butt to lick."

"Thank you, Private Phil."

Phil just moaned and gasped. He was well away. I knew it wouldn't be too long before he blew his load and crawled off me. So I decided to do everything I could to get him to cum. I raised my head and licked and slobbered and pushed my tongue right up his arse. It was tight and round. Then I lifted my head and licked down to his balls.

"Wow! This is so tight! What a cute pink ass hole you have, Private Phil. Can I do this again? And again?" I managed to gasp as he rode me from above and I arched my pelvis.


Little Soldier: The Training of a Submissive Ch. 02



Description: Two masked soldiers have broken into a young secretary's office and they are terrorizing her with their guns and knives. Already, she's had to rim one of them who pinned her to the desk. Now they are about to start further antics when suddenly there's a knock at the locked door. Will someone save the young lady?

We all fell silent. Dave looked at Phil then pulled out his gun and held it to my head.

"You in there, Lucinda?" came a voice. I almost cried with relief. It was the janitor.

"You answer him nicely. Put your jacket on and go to the door," Dave whispered, holding the gun to my head.

"You there? Anyone there?" called the janitor. 

"Yes, Mr Cole," I called out. "It's only me," as I struggled into my jacket to cover my breasts.

"Open the door," Dave hissed. "Tell him it's okay."

I unlocked the door and opened it a little way.

"You all right?" asked Mr Cole.

"Sure, Mr Cole... I'm just catching up on some Top Secret documents and I didn't want to be disturbed." I was amazed at myself. Dave and Phil were standing behind the door and my eyes were pleading with Mr Cole to see that something was wrong. My jacket only just covered my tits. My hair was all over the place. I must have been flushed. But he didn't notice anything. He just nodded happily and said, "Okay, then. I was just going to tidy up in there but I'll leave it till tomorrow. Don't work too hard, Lucinda."

"No, no, I won't."

And he walked away. I stared at his receding figure, willing him to come back, but he disappeared around a corridor. Dave shut the door and locked it again. 

"Good girl, good girl. You did real well. Come over here."

"Oh, let me have her," groaned Phil. "I'm bursting over here." He'd taken off his boots and trousers and was bare from the hips down. His combat gear hung loosely around his body – the camouflage green and greys going from hip to head but his balaclava still covered his face. I still hadn't seen their faces. He gripped his penis with his right hand and started banging it. 

"Hey, hey, little buddy," said Dave. "Why keep a dog and bark yourself? Let lovely Lucinda do that for you. You want to do it for him, don't you?"

"Yes, Sergeant Dave. Yes, I do." I was beaten. There was nothing for it but to bend to their will.

"'Yes, please', I think you mean!" he replied sharply.

"Yes, please, sergeant. Let me do it for him." I went over to Phil and took his dong in my hand. It was wet and engorged, almost red. I started to rub it up and down. Phil bent himself at the knees and thrust his hips forward to give me better purchase.

"No, no!" interrupted Dave. "That's not the way! Take your jacket off for a start and let's see those titties and that torn bra." I slipped off my jacket and let it fall to the floor. And your skirt. Take off your skirt." I stood up, unzipped my skirt and let that, too, fall to the floor. I was now standing in my torn lace bra and panties and my high heeled pumps. "Now, Private Phil, wouldn't you prefer a nice hot little mouth to come in rather than a hand-job?" Phil's eyes lit up. 

"Oh, yes," he agreed heartily. "I can come in her mouth. I haven't had that for ages."

"On your knees," said Dave as he looked down at me. 

"Yes, sergeant," I replied and knelt in front of Phil's bulging cock. 

"Open wide," came Dave's voice again. I looked at the throbbing meat in front of me. It was stretched to bursting. I took it gently with my fingers and rubbed it up and down. I opened my mouth and let my tongue caress his manhood. I prayed it would be short and quick. Phil moaned and groaned as his cock slipped in and out of my mouth. Soon he was ramming it sharply in and out. 

"Hell, that's good!" he said, grabbing me by the shoulders with both hands. "Ride 'em, cowboy!!"

"I just want another few pictures so we've got something to remember this afternoon by," said Dave and he picked up the mobile phone from the desk. 

"Come on, cheeky slut," commanded Dave as he started clicking away. "You can take more than that! And get your fingers moving. Let your fingers doing to talking." I placed my fingers around Phil's cock and squeezed hard then released, hard then released... Suddenly I felt Phil surge. He grabbed the back of my head and yanked a hunk of my hair. He banged my mouth into and then away from his groin. Again and again and again. I gagged but it didn't stop him. My head was bouncing against his balls and I felt I was being suffocated. I dropped my hands in fright. 

"Slow down, big fella," cooed Dave. "We've got the whole afternoon ahead of us and this little chicken doesn't know how to do it properly – yet!" He put down the mobile and loosened his own belt. Quickly he took off his boots and trousers and was also standing half-clothed from the waist up. "Let me show her how to do it to a real man."

He walked over to me and stood behind me, massaging my ears gently but he still held my face firmly towards Phil's member. "I think what we got here is a gifted amateur, Phil. She doesn't know how to give a man real pleasure in his privates, Private." Dave banged my face into Phil's balls slowly and repetitively. "Obviously this Brandon guy hasn't taught her how to really pleasure a man. Don't worry, Lucinda, we'll soon show you." My eyes widened as I wondered what was coming. Phil just stood there and groaned with his eyes closed. "First, you gotta take it slow and you gotta open your mouth wide." His hands moved away from my ears and grabbed the edges of my mouth. He pulled my lips apart and stuck his fingers in between my teeth, yanking my jaw open. "That's it, Lucinda. Spread yourself." My lips were spread to snapping point. My tongue was thrust on the underside of that engorged penis. At my back I could feel Dave's rising member. And my head was being rammed back and forth in a regular motion onto Phil's balls and back again. I could do nothing. Silently I started to cry. I knew this was the end of me. 

Then Dave moved away as Phil beat his hips time and again against my face and got faster and faster. 

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" shouted Phil. 

"Wait! Wait!" yelled Dave. "I want to get this on camera." He raced for the mobile, snatched it off the desk and snap, snap, snapped. "Now get out, Phil, and blow your load on her face!"

"Arggh! Arggh!" grunted Phil, as he pulled his member out of my mouth.

"Open wide, baby," shouted Dave as if he were directing a porno movie, "And smile. Let's get all those love juices all over your face. Lick 'em up! Pull your hair back!" As quickly as he gave these directions, I did as I was told. I knew better than to cross Sergeant Dave. I kept my lips close to Phil's cock and tried to lick it as it banged away with the rhythm of his hand until he suddenly shudderingly shot his load. The jizz spurted out all over my lips and cheeks and I felt the huge satisfaction of having got rid of one of them. I was even smiling as he came all over me. It was the end of torture and he'd be done for the day. I felt so relieved, I actually threw my arms around his legs and rubbed my face in his cum. 

"She likes it! She likes it! I knew she would!" Crazy Dave was dancing up and down now in excitement. "Just teach her the ropes and she's a pro." He grabbed a hank of my hair and pulled my head back. "Aren't you, Lucinda? You're really grateful we came along today."

I was out of my mind with relief. "Yes, yes, I am, Sergeant Dave. I feel so much better after that." He clouted me over the back of the head in joy. "A right little hot box, that's what you are. I'm always right about blondes – and I notice you're a natural blonde, too."

"Yes, yes, I am, Sergeant." It was over. That's all I could think. Yes, there was crazy Dave to cope with, but he seemed to be more the voyeur, wanting to talk about it and not do so much. Just threaten. Yes, he was insane and clever with it, but perhaps he couldn't get it up. The best thing to do now was to talk my way out of the situation and get home. I'd get home, chuck this job and never come back.

I stood up and wiped my face with the back of my hand. I looked down at Private Phil on the ground nursing his balls and turned to Crazy Dave. "Sergeant," I said as sincerely as I could, "I've never had an experience like that. You really showed me how to make a man cum. You've changed my life, sergeant. I'm really thankful."

He grinned inanely then said, "What are you wiping the cum off for?" 

"Well, I – "

"Just stop that," he said, slapping my hand away. "You have to lick every speck of cum off your own face."

"Sure, Sergeant Dave. Of course." I started licking my chin, my cheeks, my lips, desperately trying to look nonchalant. "Can I just go to the ladies?" Any excuse to get into the general's shower room and lock the door from the inside.

"You're not getting away that quickly, little lady," Dave said languidly. 

"No, no, of course not. I just mean to go to the bathroom here in the office."

"Where?" he asked sharply.

"Just through that door," I motioned to the door in the corner of the room.

"Let's check it out," said Dave as he picked up his rifle and walked into the bathroom. 

I looked down at Phil. He was kneeling on the floor, looking up at me.

"Shit, that was good. Especially when he held your mouth open for me. I must have gone down to your tonsils." He laughed quietly to himself. I stole a quick look at the front office door. Could I make it in time if I ran there, unlocked the door and ran away? They'd still have their guns. But would they really shoot me down?

Before I could think things through, Dave came back. "Looks fine to me. Come on."

"What?" I asked.

"You wanted to pee," he reminded me. 

"Oh, yes. You – are you going to be with me?" I hesitated.

"Of course. Wouldn't let a nice bit of snatch do anything stupid – like locking herself in, would I?"

My heart sank. Slowly I walked into the bathroom, past Dave, pulled down my ruined panties and sat on the toilet. I hadn't wanted to go. It had just been a ruse.

Together we waited in silence. Then Dave said, "Do you really want to go, soldier? Or were you lying again?"

"No, no, sergeant. I wasn't lying. I just can't do it with you in front of me. I get embarrassed."

To my surprise, Dave didn't pursue the idea of my lying. "Some interesting things the General's got in the cupboard here. Razor, shaving cream, baby oil, cottonballs..."

"Sometimes he works overnight here."

"I've got an idea, princess. Take off your panties. Show us your snatch."

I got up and pulled down my panties. I think I knew what was coming next. 

"Sit on the side of the bath," Sergeant Dave commanded. I obeyed and he put down his rifle. "Open wide!" I sat with my back straight and sat with my legs wide apart. He picked up the shaving cream and squirted it on my pubes. "Now, I've never done this before to a woman – or a slut – so I might slip and cut you. You'll have to hold real still. Do you think you can do that, soldier?"

"Yes, Sergeant, I'll hold still." Would this guy never run out of ideas? Had he planned this? Were they really soldiers and were those real guns? I had no idea. 

I braced myself.

"Now, I think I'll do something special. Something your husband would appreciate." He rubbed the soft soapy shaving cream over my bush and then slipped his fingers into my crotch. I winced. 

"Remember, don't move a muscle," he warned. 

"I think – " I began, but he looked up at me sharply. "I think, Sergeant, that you have to put the razor on wet skin. If that's okay."

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "That's the coward's way out. This way is best for you – I know what's best. Remember your experience with Phil? We put the cream straight on your dry skin. It cuts the hair sharper." I took a deep breath and waited.

"Now, I'm going to carve something in your bush. A letter. Do you know what letter it's gonna be, little soldier?"

"No, no, I don't, Sergeant," I moaned.

"I'm going to shave the letter 'D' right over your cunt, so's Brandon knows that Dave's been here. Good idea?"

"Brandon?" My heart leapt at the thought. "Brandon, what's he got to do with it?"

"But Brandon needs to know everything that's gone on here, Lucinda. He'll see the pictures, I'll phone him, and we can send it all to his private email address which," he added, "I notice was on that sheet you gave me." 

"Please, please don't tell Brandon, Dave – I mean, Sergeant. He mustn't ever know."

"And there's no reason he ever should, little soldier. That is if you cooperate with me and my buddy. Why, I could send the pictures to his mobile now if you like?"

"No!" I sobbed. "No, please. He'd leave me. He'd never get over it. We're happy. We're a couple."

"And there's no reason you shouldn't remain that way. Now – hold still and part those little legs just a tiny bit more."

Suddenly I heard Phil stagger in. 

"Wow! That was heaven. Thanks for that, Dave."

"No problem, Phil. The little slut just needed some coaching."

"I think that's the best blow job I've ever had," he said musingly. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving calling card," Dave said as he methodically scraped out an initial on my lips. "She's got a lot of bush here."

"She's got a lot of tit, too," said Phil satisfied. "Hey, look, Dave, her nipples are standing up." Dave stopped what he was doing for a moment and glanced at them approvingly. 

It was true. My nipples were erect. So was my clit. I hoped Dave didn't notice. I think it was the name of Brandon that made me subconsciously rise to the occasion but I desperately didn't want to give these two any more incentives to get into me.

"Brandon would only think the photos were fake. He wouldn't believe you. He knows me."

"Gee, and you look so happy in so many of the pictures. Especially the one of Phil cumming all over your face. But you may be right. He may not believe us. But then he'll see the date and I'll tell him that Mr Cole called in and we had the door locked and you said you were working on Top secret documents and that was the day you had your pussy shaved. And the day that everybody went away on Training Day." He stopped what he was doing, looked up at me and smiled. "I think he'll believe us. I'll say you planned it."

My life was unraveling before me. This morning I'd come to work a happily married woman – now I was a slut with a history!

He went back to work. His hand slipped.

"Ouch!!" I yelled. 

"Hmmm... Sorry about that, soldier. You'll have a large cut there. We'll put a plaster on when I've finished. Anyway," he continued, "there's not only Brandon to consider. I notice we've got your parents' contact details as next of kin. Perhaps they'd like to see what's been going on? Very thorough they are in the army, aren't they?" He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me innocently.

"You, bastard!" I whispered. 

"Oh, dear. Wrong thing to say, Lucinda. You should be doing as your namesake and asking for more, Mrs Moore. Remember you're talking to a guy with a razor in his hand. A very sharp razor. And it's just about to - " He pursed his lips and sliced acrossways.

"I'm sorry," I immediately broke down. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. It's all over."

Dave stood up and wiped his hands on a towel. "It's not over yet, sunshine. Not by a long way. Soldier, look at me," he said gently. I turned my tear-streaked face up to him and blinked pitifully at him. He slapped me on the cheek hard.

"Ow!" I reacted quickly.

"Didn't I tell you not to cry? You want us here. You want to please us. Isn't that what you said. Or have you been telling porkies? And you won't do anything to upset us? Will you, Lucinda?"

Phil was leaning against the doorway. Through his balaclava I could see him grinning. He sniggered. 

"We've got her right where we want her, haven't we?" he laughed. "We could do anything with her..."

"Anything to the limits of our imagination, Phil boy."

"I'm going to be sick," I said and went to the toilet bowl. Dave pulled me back by the shoulders.

"If you're gonna throw up, do it here in the bath. Then you will lick up every last drop of it up afterwards. Remember, we keep a clean house in the army, soldier."

I gulped my nausea down. It wasn't happening to me. They'd stop. They'd go away. It was a bad dream. 

"You gonna be sick?"

"No," I gulped.

"No, what?" he asked malevolently.

"No, sergeant," I replied. 

"Then get under the tap and wash the shaving cream off," he ordered. He walked past Phil. "Stay against the door and make sure she can't get away. It's got a lock on it."

I turned the bath tap on and stepped under it to wash away the cream. Phil continued staring at me. 

"Show me," he said. I turned and stood up straight before him. He looked at my snatch approvingly. "Yep, I can definitely see the 'D', Dave. Mr Moore'll love that."

"What'd you say?" called Dave from the other room. "I can't hear you."

"I said I like your graffiti!" Then he pulled on my breasts and yanked me towards him. "But I like these breasts better." Phil took each nipple between finger and thumb and turned them – hard. I winced. He smiled like an ape, showing his teeth. He caught them harder in his grip and twisted them deliberately. 

"Don't do that, Private Phil," I said as sweetly and demurely as I could. "You don't want to hurt me. Remember what a good time I gave you?"

"You didn't know what you were doing till Dave grabbed your head and rammed you into my cock," he said dismissively. Then he pulled down viciously and slowly on my breasts, watching my eyes flare with the pain. "I reckon she'd like a bit of S and M, Dave!" he called out. Then he spoke softly into my ear. "Isn't that right, bitch? You'd like to be pulled like a Christmas cracker and ripped apart."

The pit fell out of the bottom of my stomach. I suddenly knew that Phil was more driven than Dave and more dangerous. I could also feel his slack member slowly gaining momentum again and prodding itself up against my skin. Gently, I backed off. 

"Come here!" Phil commanded. "I want to eat you out!" With that, he nuzzled his head between my breasts and thumped them together. It was excruciating – like being clanged like a pair of cymbals. I bit my lip. Then he locked his mouth around one nipple and sucked and sucked. I could feel the blood rise to the surface of my skin and I whelped in pain. He stopped at once, but looked up at me, smiled, then attacked me with his mouth on the soft underside of my left breast. Again, he sucked and sucked and sucked. "I just wish – " he mumbled to himself – "I just wish there was milk in these titties." Then, just as suddenly, he turned away and shouted to Dave, "Hey, Dave! We got any manacles?"

"What?"

"Handcuffs... Ropes... You know. I just want to hang her up to dry from this shower rail and suck her till I can see her blood boil." My skin froze.

Dave came in quickly. "Good idea. I'm sure there's something in the locked closet in the General's office. Is there anything there, Lucinda?"

Phil let go of my breasts and I almost collapsed. I knew the General's locker and I also knew what was inside. I knew where the key was, but if I told these soldiers, they'd find a treasure trove to torture me with. Could I risk telling them a lie?



Little Soldier: The Training of a Submissive Ch. 03



Description: Lucinda Moore, a young secretary, has been violated by two masked soldiers who have burst into her boss's office while she was at work. They have threatened her with guns and knives and taken kinky pictures of her having oral sex with Phil, one of the soldiers. Dave, the sergeant has just carved the letter "D" into her pubic hair to publicise their assault on her to her husband, Brandon. Dave has just found the general's locker and wants Lucinda to tell them where the key is.

*

"Lucinda, did you hear me?" asked Dave sternly. "Where's the key to the General's locker?" 

"I -- I -- I don't know. I think he takes it with him," I had to stop them thinking about the locker and all the dreadful booty it contained. "But why don't we think of something else to do? You could massage me with the baby oil." Anything to get them on to regular pastimes... But that wouldn't do for these boys. They wanted the works. "Or I could lick your bodies at the same time? I -- I can really show you a good time."

Dave smirked grimly at me and lifted his hand. Hanging from his forefinger was the General's keychain which he'd found in the drinks cabinet. "Look what I found!"

"Wow!" I stuttered. "I mean - what's that?"

Dave took a step closer to me. "I think you know exactly what it is. It's the General's keys. And one of these'll open his locker, I bet." He turned and left the room. 

That left me and Phil standing facing each other. Me in my high heels and torn bra standing in the bath and him staring at me with his cold, hard blue eyes. He grabbed one breast and pulled me towards him. "You know there's one thing I like better than titties --" he twisted me round so my back was towards him " -- and that's arses." And with that he slammed the flat of his hand -- pow! - against my skin.

"No!" I cried, jerking away. 

Slap! Went his hand again. Smash! I yelled. Smack! I screamed. I couldn't bear the burning pain. Then, just as suddenly he pulled me back to face him again. "So what'll it be, slut? I eat out your titties or belt your arse? Your choice."

I gasped at the pain on my backside, but luckily I didn't have to make any choice. Dave's voice came from the other room. 

"Wow! Look what we've got here!" He whistled appreciatively. Phil grabbed me by the wrist, dragged me over the bath to follow him back into the office. 

Dave was looking at the open cupboard. We all stood there and looked. There was a gun, a rifle, a spare jacket for the general, some photos of his wife and kids sticky-taped to the door, some rope, a can of something, a packet of cigars, a lunchbox, a tennis racquet and a few tennis balls.

"Hey," said Phil, lighting on the thing he was most interested in. "Some rope! Just what we needed!" He seemed happy for the first time. I shrank away. Could I open the window and jump out of it? I'd land on the first floor awning way below us. 

Dave turned to me and his eyes were alight. "Yeah, we've got rope, Phil, but let's just leave that for the moment. How about we play a bit of tennis?"

"Tennis?" repeated Phil dully. 

"Do you want to have a game of tennis, Lucinda Moore?"

"Yes, sarge, oh, yes, I do." Anything was better than being tied to the shower rail and prodded, paddled and twisted by the animal Phil. 

"She's really keen, isn't she?"

"I certainly am," I replied, not knowing what I was letting myself in for.

"Yep. Two votes to one, Phil. I'm afraid we get a game of tennis before we have a bit of slap and tickle in the shower."

"Dave, this is not your show," Phil said resentfully. "Who the hell wants to play with balls?"

"Oh, this is my kind of tennis, Private. Very few people know the rules of this game. This is master Dave's private game. And in fact it's only played by one -- one person has to receive the ball totally in their court and then -- " he paused and turned to look at me significantly -- "POP! It comes out of their court and drops on to the ground."

There was a moment's silence while Dave looked at me and Phil looked at Dave. 

My eyes widened in horror. "No," I said, "No, you don't mean it. You can't. Not a tennis ball!"

"Hey, hey," Phil started giggling. "You mean -? That'd be fun. Wouldn't it? Hey, soldier, do you want to bend over and take it for your country? Eh? Eh?" His giggle became a laugh and grew and grew. I stepped back a few paces. 

"I can't take a tennis ball! If you got it in, it'd never come out!"

"Then you'd lose the game!" 

"And you go home with your legs crossed and doubled up on the bus!!" Phil and Dave were laughing themselves stupid. I backed off to the corner of the room. They advanced on me. 

"No, really, sergeant, I can't take that. It'd get stuck inside me. I'd never be able to get rid of it."

"Maybe you've got a point there," said Dave pausing in his tracks. "May be there's something you can practise with. What have we got?" He turned to the locker again and rummaged around. "What's in this lunchbox?"

"Go the tennis ball. Go the tennis ball... Go the tennis ball..." cackled Phil under his breath. He grabbed me and wrestled me over to the window. I couldn't see what Dave had got from the locker. Phil threw open the sash window and I looked down the four stories to the parade ground. 

"Pull the rest of her bra off, right there," said Dave as he came over to the window. "Look, soldier, there are some people over there in the distance. If you call out, they'll see you. They might even ring the police. Go on, shout. It'll do you good."

"What are you saying, Dave?" asked Phil. But my mind was racing. What would they see from that distance? A half-naked girl with her tits hanging out and a man behind her. They'd probably know I was rutting, but they'd think I wanted it. I could call out if I waved my arms. But all the circumstances... It was just as Dave said, they'll think it was an affair and I was an exhibitionist.

"No, I won't shout."

"Good little soldier. Stiff upper lip and all that. And talking of that, I've got something that belongs to you." Dave bent my head down so I was jackknifed over the windowsill with my bottom in the air. "Pull her legs apart, Phil. Further." 

Suddenly, he rammed something inside my cunt. I squeezed my cheeks together and held in my cries. 

"Now for this game which is called indoor tennis -- you have to guess what the object is. And we'll keep ramming it home to you until you do. Okay."

"Okay.... Sergeant." I could hardly keep from gasping every time he thrust this thing in. I could tell it was hard, but not very big. Not wide like Phil's penis. I desperately thought back to what I'd seen in the General's locker. What was quite long and very hard? Oh, I was dry. It cut me inside. They were laughing and giggling. 

"Come on, Lucinda. You can think, can't you? You got more feeling in that little cunt than you know. Just feel it, baby. Just feel it slip in and out."

I said nothing, just whimpered and looked down. 

"She's not going to get it," said Phil. 

"She's already got it," chuckled Dave.

"No, I mean the answer. She's not going to get it."

"Yes, you're right. Okay, Lucinda, you lose so we get to choose the punishment."

"The strap on her backside!" said Phil stoutly. 

"Okay, one more chance, Lucinda. What is it I'm holding in my right hand?'

"A stick?"

"Wrong. Get the ropes out, Phil, and hang her up to dry in the shower." I heard Phil go to the locker and pull out the rope. He came back to the window and dragged me by my hair to the bathroom. Dave followed him quickly. As Phil was throwing the rope over the shower rail, Dave came up to me and mocked me. 

"It was this, little soldier -- " And he thrust a carrot under my nose. "From General Hood's lunchbox. Now eat it." He stuffed it in my mouth and I began to gobble as fast as I could since it was being thrust down the back of my throat. I gagged and choked and hardly noticed Phil wrapping the rope around my wrists and lifting them higher and higher. He pulled mightily at the end until I was on tiptoe in front of the tub facing the wall.

"Ow!"

"Now, soldier, the army calls for discipline and you've just got to take it like a man. Can you do that?"

"Shall I use my hand?" asked Phil keenly. "Have we got anything else?"

"Yes, I think there's something in the locker. Just a minute."

I writhed and swallowed the last of the carrot. I jerked around as Dave came back but I couldn't see what was in his hand.

"This is a guessing game, soldier. When you tell us what is punishing you, we'll stop. Okay, Phil?"

"Maybe," he muttered.

Whack!!! Oh, my insides crumbled. I choked and tried to swing away. 

"Can't guess?" asked Dave.

Whack!! My skin burnt. It felt as if it was on fire and I almost passed out. Then I suddenly remembered -- 

"The tennis racquet!!" I screamed.

"Oh, fuck!" said Phil.

"Yes, it's the tennis racquet. Clever girl. Pity, but never mind, we can use this in the next game as a punishment. Pretty neat, isn't it?"

"Fucking hell," said Phil. "I was just beginning to enjoy that."

"Pull her down." Phil whacked my bottom with his bare hand and then undid the rope around the rail. I fell to my feet and breathed a sigh of relief. As I walked back to the office, I hobbled. My arse was criss-crossed with racquet marks even though it had only been two thrashes. I couldn't let it happen again.

"Okay," said Dave. "Next object. You took the other one quite well, but I think you need some lubrication." He pulled out a can of WD-40. "Lean against the desk and assume the position."

I lowered myself gently on to the side of the desk and opened my legs. Would this never end???

He pulled apart my lips and sprayed generous quantities of the stuff on my pussy. I don't know what it did. I don't know what it was supposed to do. I was past caring. 

"Okay, soldier. Atten-shun!!"

I tried to stand to attention but my butt hurt too much. I held my hand against my forehead and saluted as best I could.

"Turn around. Quick march." I did as told and marched gingerly to the window. There I bent over the window sill again and stuck my bum in the air. The only way I would ever get out of here was to do absolutely everything they said as quickly as I could and to keep my wits about me. There was now no way I'd get out on my own. Why hadn't I noticed the lunch box? I could have avoided that punishment if I'd been alert. Dave had noticed. He was as beady as a hawk.

"Right. Are you ready for this, soldier?"

"I'm ready, Sergeant. I'm ready and willing."

This object was different again. It was long and thin. It hardly touched the sides, but maybe that was the lubricant. It slid in and out and in a few strokes, I had it.

"It's a cigar!!!" I was ecstatic!

"Shit!!" said Phil. "No punishment."

"Very good. Very good," said Dave condescendingly. "You remembered. Now don't get all disappointed, Phil. I'm sure you can think of another game to play with Private Lucinda Moore?"

"No, I can't," he said sulkily. "I love beaver banging."

"Well -- stand up, Lucinda -- there is a feat that they perform in the Phillipines. Some real whores can do it. I wonder if you can, Lucinda?" 

"Something prostitutes do?"

"With a cigar," he said slowly and meaningfully.

I hesitated. I looked at the cigar in his fingers. 

"He-he-he, Dave," chuckled Phil. "That's very good."

"Well, can you?"

"I can try." The boys grabbed me by my arms and lifted me up on to the desk. They threw everything on the floor -- everything except the computer, thank god. 

"Lie back and enjoy," said Dave and he popped the cigar in my hole. "Now where's a lighter?"

"There's one in my handbag," I offered, getting quite eager to pass the time without them violating me. Dave strode to the door, unlocked it, went to the outer office and came back with my bag. He upturned it on the desk and picked up my lighter. 

"Now, take a few deep breaths, Private," Dave advised. He lit the cigar and placed it carefully into my crack. It crackled softly. I pulled in my pelvic muscles hard and did a stomach crunch to "draw' on the cigar. Nothing. I tried again. Phil's eyes lit up. He could see a racquet on my behind again. Desperately, I winched myself up and breathed heavily in then out again. The cigar flared! I'd done it. The cigar fell out.

"I did it! I did it!" I gasped.

"You know, you've got a good body, Lucinda. You could really do some hard training."

"I did it!" I laughed.

"No, you did not," said Dave softly. "You have to blow the smoke out, not just keep it lit. You have to drag on the cigar and suck the smoke in, hold it, then blow a smoke ring." He smiled down at me. Almost fondly.

"I can do that," I asserted. "Light the cigar again!" Dave replaced the cigar, lit it and the two men watched me suck, and grunt, and heave until I had a regular flame going at the end of my cunt. Suddenly there was a smoke ring! I looked and laughed triumphantly. "There! Do you see it? There's a smoke ring. Look! I'll do it again! Look!" And I heaved my bottom up off the desk with my knees in the air and sucked and pulled and heaved out again. A beautifully formed smoke ring floated in the air above my knees. "I've done it! Aren't I good? Aren't a good girl?"

"Neat party trick," said Phil.

"I'm afraid I've got bad news for you, Private."

"What? You said if I could do it, you wouldn't punish me!"

"No, I didn't say that. I said you'd get punished if you couldn't do it -- "

"And I did!!"

"And you'd get punished if you acted like a whore." He paused cruelly to let it sink in. "I said that right at the beginning. We can't have sluts in the army. We've got standards. You've got to do the best you can at any task, but if that involves behaving badly, you have to be punished."

"You can't say that! That's not fair!" I said propping myself up on my elbows. "You punish me if I do it and you punish me if I don't. You said do it and I -- "

Dave brought his face right down in front of mine. "Are you questioning a superior officer, soldier?" I paled and stalled. 

"No, I -- I -- Oh, please don't punish me."

"Watch me!" he said. And with that he picked through the contents of my bag on the desk around me. "Yes, I thought I saw them here. Here they are." He pulled out a packet of small birthday candles triumphantly. My sister had asked me to pick them up for my niece's birthday tomorrow. "Lie back down."

His voice brooked no nonsense. I lay down on the desk.

"What ya gonna do, Dave?" asked Phil.

"A punishment for insubordination. I don't know whether she'll find it better or worse than the tennis racquet." And he quietly lit one of the little candles and dropped three wet drops of hot oil on my left breast. The heat was incredible! It soared through me. I shivered and rolled slightly to one side. "I wouldn't advise you move at all, soldier," said Dave. 

Once he had a few drops on the skin, he upended the candle and stuck it firmly to the solidifying drops. Then he did the same with another candle. Oh, my God!! The pain was electrifying! I sucked in all my breath to stay still. "If you move, I'll only have to set them up again. It's only a few drops." Once they were in place I had to stay still so they didn't fall over and burn me. We all watched in silence as the candles burnt lower and lower. Lower and lower. Would he let them reach my breasts and burn out there, scorching my skin? Was this the punishment? Or would he blow them out at the last moment?

"He-he-he," sniggered Phil. "Let's tickle her feet!"

"Do you want me to blow them out, Lucinda?"

"Yes, Sergeant. Please, Sergeant. Now."

"So you accept that army discipline is final and you just have to submit to it?"

"Yes, sarge."

"Whenever and wherever a superior officer talks to you?"

"Yes, sir. Please, please, take them off." I couldn't move. If I moved the candles would fall.

"Just let me wobble her breasts, Dave?"

"You know, you could have a good body with a little toning. You're a bit on the flabby side around the waist, but you have good strong abdominal muscles. They're good for --"

"Please!!"

"Never interrupt a superior officer, you little cunt. If you can't follow simple instructions, you'll never be a soldier and you'll always be a whore. And you'll be treated like a whore. Do you want that?"

"No, sir. Please, sir..."

"I've got multiple punishments I can give you and perhaps a few pleasures you can experience along the way, but if I'm going to train you --"

"We, Dave. If we're going to train her."

"Yes, Private. If we're going to train you, you'll have to follow all instructions absolutely down to the letter. No questions in the army." 

The candles were almost at their wick. 

"Now, because I know you're trying, I'll take one candle off." He did so. "But because you've got a lot to learn, we'll leave the last one to burn slowly out."

"Noooooo!" I yelled. The second candle toppled over and fell harmlessly to the floor. 

"Pick it up! Put it back! I want to watch her squirm!" 

"No," said the sergeant, picking up the snuffed out candle. "Some lessons are psychological, Phil. Aren't they, Lucinda?"

"Oh, yes, sergeant. Yes, sir. Anything you say," I gasped in relief.

* * * * *

Chapter 4 is being written now. If you would like to send me comments on this or any other of my stories, please contact me. Put 'Chapter 3' in the subject line. I welcome your comments.



Little Soldier: The Training of a Submissive Ch. 04



Chapter 4: My Handbag

Description: Two masked soldiers, Sergeant Dave and Private Phil, have burst into the offices of General Hood where they find nubile blonde Lucinda Moore. After terrorizing her and forcing her to perform fellatio on Private Phil, then shaving their initials in her public hair, they take her to the bathroom for a series of torments. After the last punishment of lighting burning candles on her breasts, they go on to further experiments...

Body:

"As I was saying," said Dave. "You need some exercise, private. Get off the desk and down on the floor. It's time for press-ups."

He had started to call me private. I got in the position lying face down on the floor and started lifting my body up from my hands. Push-ups weren't easy. My wrists were killing me in three or four go's. 

"She's not very good, is she, Dave?"

"Hmm... We'll have to work on that, soldier. Meantime, turn over and do fifty stomach crunches. Phil, see she's doing them correctly and I'll have a look at all the goodies in her bag." He rummaged through the contents of my bag which were spread around the desk and Phil got down on the floor next to me.

"One... two.... Three..." he counted.

"Now," said Sergeant Dave, "let's see what's here. Nail polish... lipstick... wallet. Oh, an elecronic organiser. I think I'll keep that." He pocketed it immediately. "Hmm... What can we do with the nail polish?? I know.. Stop crunching, soldier and lay still." He twisted the lid to the bottle of bright red polish and stepped forward in between my legs. "Open wide... Good." The sergeant filled in his letter 'D' which he'd shaved on my cunt, a scarlet red. "Now, we'll just let that dry and use the lipstick." Dave again came towards me. "Just like a little trophy, you are and you're all ours." He squeezed one breast and rubbed it with the lipstick, making a little circle of colour on my nipple. Then he did the other. "Okay, soldier, carry on with the crunches."

He wandered back to the desk. "Aha! A mobile phone... Let's see your Sent messages... " I didn't know what he was doing, but I was quite happy doing stomach crunches on the floor. At least they weren't beating me with a paddle on my bum. Every time I came forward I could see the lipstick circles like bright red targets on my skin.

"Oh, here's one to Brandon: See you at six. Do remember the chicken." Dave looked at me contemptuously. "Gee, you live a sex-crazed life, don't you, soldier?"

"Yes, sir."

"I know what we'll do: we'll send a message to all your friends telling them what a great time you're having."

"No, please, please!" I cried. 

"I didn't say stop crunching, private, and you didn't say 'sir' or 'sarge', so fifty more crunches."

Phil laughed as he continued counting.

"Compose message: right! Here we go... 'I.... have.... had...the...most...exciting...afternoon...of...my...life. Can't...wait... to.... tell.. you... all... about... it.... Love.... Lucinda.' You like it, soldier?"

"No, please, sir. Don't send it!" I was losing my breath. "Please don't. They'll all want to know what happened!"

"That's your problem, soldier. The army rewards ingenuity so prove you can think on your feet -- or on the ground as it were. Send to All." He clicked the button, laughed to himself and moved towards me, the mobile phone in his hand. "Stop your crunching." I did as he said. "Lift your legs." I lifted them straight in the air. "Now open them wide." He knelt on the ground in between my legs. "Great shot! Just lift your head so we know who's attached to this tasty bit of clit." I pulled my head up, with my legs in the air. "Now pull open your folds with your fingers." He snapped the shot. "And again. Wow! Look at this, Lucinda. I'm sure Brandon would like this." He showed me the picture. I couldn't believe it. It showed my bush in the front with my painted fingernails holding my cunt open and a bright red letter 'D' shining brightly from its core. And there I was grinning at the camera as if it was a game!!

"I think I'll just send it to Brandon."

"No, sir! Please, sir. Sarge, it'll mean the end of everything."

"Well, we wouldn't want that," said Dave to himself. "I tell you what -- you've got a choice, Lucinda. I either send the picture or I send a text message to Brandon. What do you want?" It had to be the text. I sighed. God knows what he'd say in the message.

"A text message, sir."

"Okay... Compose message... What do you call him in private?

"What? Oh, Honey bear."

"And yourself?"

"Cherry lips."

"How cute... "Honey.. Bear... Am gushing juices all over the place for you. Come home early and I'll lick your dick till your rocks fall off. Love Cherry Lips.' Sound good, Lucinda?" I nodded sadly. "Send message." 

He paused and stared at me. "That is one prime piece of flesh there in front of me. And it's about time I got my rocks off, seeing as I'm lifting my jacket with this hard-on. Don't you agree, Phil?" He looked at Phil and I caught sight of his hard-on. It was massive. Like a stallion's. He himself was tall and lanky, whereas Phil was tubby and stocky. I could take Phil but I didn't know about Dave. 

"Okay. Rip into her, Dave."

"I thought we'd both have a go at the same time." Oh, no... 

"I don't know that I can," said Phil. "I've only just come in her mouth."

"Don't worry about that, private. You'll rise to the occasion. Especially as I've got a bet Lucinda can do it in five minutes. Starting now!"

I didn't need any more instructions. I had a pretty shrewd idea if I didn't achieve the goal, I'd have to take in the tennis ball in my hole like he threatened before. So I crawled on all fours quickly to Phil who was standing up. I started to take his balls in my mouth and let my warm breath caress them. It always drove Brandon wild. After a few seconds of nothing, there was a flicker of movement. Then I remembered the banging Phil had given me in the bathroom and how his penis had stiffened. I got the tennis racquet off the floor and handed it to him. Then I bent myself over in front of him so that my bum was exposed. 

"Good thinking, private!" commended Sergeant Dave.

"Hah!!" Phil flicked the racquet through the air a couple of times, then wallop! It landed on my arse. "Ow!" I shot back but didn't move. Whack! Came the strings again across my skin. It stung like buggery, but I was determined to stay put. 

"Four minutes!" 

I peeped behind me and saw his member rise. Quickly, I turned around, knelt before him and cupped my bruised breasts around his cock. I pummeled them as he had and as his shaft got longer, I jabbed little licks with my tongue on the end of it.

"You're doing a fine job, soldier," praised Dave. "I'll go and get the oil." I carried on as Dave walked into the General's bathroom. He came back smiling with a bottle of baby oil and asked, "Well, Phil, do you want the cunt, the arse or the mouth?

"The arse?!?!" I stopped my work on Phil.

Dave glanced at his watch. "Grab that man's dick and get back to work, soldier. Just keep on folding that cock in your big tits, filly. Concentrate."

"But, sergeant Dave, I've never... I mean, we've never... I'm too small. It won't fit." The idea of him inside my cunt was frightening enough -- up my backside was like torture. 

"That's what we've got the oil for. Stupid."

"And I think you'd like to have both cunt and arse at the same time. Don't you agree, Phil? I mean, the way this little lady has been carrying on. You can tell she's hanging out for something new. Something that will stretch her. Something that will challenge her capabilities."

"Mmm...." Murmured Phil. He was too engrossed in battering my breasts. "Cunt... Yummy cunt..."

"Well, I actually thought you'd take the arse, seeing as it's this little soldier's first time." He looked meaningfully at Phil's dick between my breasts and his own engorged member standing proudly from under his jacket.

"Oh, Yes. I see what you mean."

"Please, please, don't, sergeant. I'm begging you."

"That's exactly what I like to hear. You're beginning to understand, aren't you, that you can't have your own way -- you're in the army now and you'll follow orders?"

"But, sir," I thought quickly. "Wouldn't I be doing another of those prostitute tricks if I took him in the arse?" Dave had said before I should act like a soldier and not a whore.

"Good thinking, little one, but soldiers have been taking it in the arse as long as there have been wars, and they've learned how to do it properly. Now get down on the rug."

I prayed it wouldn't hurt too much. I clenched my buttocks. Maybe if he couldn't get in? 

Dave lay down beside me and rolled me on my side. "Lift up your leg..." I did as I was told. "Higher. Higher. Now prop yourself on your side with your elbow." He poured some oil on his hands and smeared it across my cunt and arse. Then he got his fingers and pushed them inside my cunt. One finger, two fingers... Phil got down next to us to watch. Three fingers. I gasped. "You're still quite tight. But luckily that's the way I like my bitches." He paused and poured some more oil on his hand. "Now comes the good bit. Breathe in deep. This might hurt a little." He paused and I trembled in anticipation of what was to come. "Now this, my little slut, is called rimming." And he bent over and licked my arsehole. "Quite nice, isn't it?"

"Yes, sergeant."

"And this is called finger fucking..." He put one of his oiled fingers into my shit-hole. Phil was staring in anticipation, while Dave began slowly to run his finger around the outside and then suddenly he drove his finger home. 

"Aargh!" I ejaculated. 

"Okay," said Dave, ignoring me. "I think we're ready for you, Phil. Now you, little soldier, are going to be sitting on top of me like a flag on my pole, and Phil is gonna be behind you fucking your arse. His prick'll kill your arsehole. I bet." As soon as he said it, he lay on the floor, put down the oil and held his pulsating member, rubbing it fiercely with his hand. "Oh, Phil, I want this on film so get the mobile and give it to the private. She'll have the best view." I lowered myself gently on his cock. But there was no gentle way in. I squealed in pain. A ferocious explosion took place in my insides.

"Are you in pain?" he asked innocently. 

"You are big, sergeant." I replied as Phil handed me the phone.

He thrust himself in properly then called Phil. "Okay, Phil, you fuck this bitch to pieces with me!" It was like a rallying cry. Phil was galvanized into action. He got on his knees behind and pulled my leg at a crazy angle open so that my arse was exposed. Meanwhile, Dave's panting and grunting underneath me. I was so concerned about Dave's dick, I held myself up above him as far as I could.

Phil couldn't get it in at first. He rammed and rammed against me, stabbing my muscles and making me groan with the pain. Then suddenly, he found the little hole and pushed more slowly and purposefully. "Hah! That's got it!" he shouted.

"You're cheating, little soldier," said Dave. "You're hardly on my cock at all." All I could think of and feel was Phil's bulging member getting deeper and deeper into my arse. I felt as if it was up to my neck. I gulped and gasped and tried to answer but I couldn't as Phil established his rhythm.

"What a tight arse. This is fantastic," raved Phil. "How d'ya like that, bitch?? You want some more?? Tell us you want more!!"

Dave pulsed roughly and suddenly got fully in -- 

"Aaargh!" I screamed.

"That's -- it -- bitch," Phil said as he thrust. "You want it deeper?"

"Aargh!" 

"I -- think -- that -- means 'Yes'," said Phil.

"Drive her harder, private. Ram it in!"

They were getting faster and faster. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The two cocks were jamming me in both ends and I was pinioned between them. Please, let it stop, I thought. Please...

"Take -- a -- picture!" commanded Dave.

I held the phone in trembling hands and snapped a shot of Dave's cock inside my cunt. Then suddenly, the phone in my hands rang. I dropped it in shock on Dave's stomach. He stopped his beating and picked it up. 

"Well, well, well," he said, looking at the Caller ID. "It's Brandon calling."

"Don't answer it!"

"I think I should."

Ring, ring...

"Please, no."

"Then you'll have to talk to him." He handed me the phone. 

"Oooo...." groaned Phil as he penetrated deeper. I clenched my arse muscles in a vain attempt to stop him going further.

"Go on," said Dave.

I pressed Talk and said, "Hello?" 

"Hi, Cherry Lips... What HAVE you been doing?" Brandon's voice dripped of sex and expectation. "I get two messages from you in ten minutes -- one saying you're having the most exciting time of your life and the other -- well, it just blew me away. I got it in a meeting and had to excuse myself. I'm in the Gents now, blowing my stack. Cherry Lips, tell me more... What's been happening?"

There I was in my black heels and nothing else, on the office floor, being pumped in the arse and cunt by two strangers. What on earth was I to say to my husband?