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Boot Camp

By: footshrimper



Have you ever licked the bottom of your lovers boots? Have you ever sucked off the steel toes of combat boots? Has anyone ever stepped on on you while wearing boots and then made you beg for sex? Has anyone ever made suck their feet and toes while they watch you jerk off?

If the answer to any or all of these questions is yes, then you are probably in the same predicament I am in. My girlfriend refuses to have sex with me unless she wears sexy shoes or even her combat boots to bed. But that's not all, then she makes me do all sorts of kinky things, including allowing her to stomp on me with her shoes and boots on. The funny thing though, is that it really turns me on!

Aside from getting stomped on, we have a pretty normal sex life. Well, as normal as it going to get for us. I can't stop her from forcing the steel toe of her boots into my mouth, sucking them clean while she fingers herself and watches me jerk off. And I'm just no good at turning her down, I'm unable to disobey her wishes whenever she wants me to lick her boots and feet while she stuffs a big fat dildo into her hot asshole. Things have gone even further though lately and I'm really enjoying the abuse I receive from my controlling bitch. It's easy to take when you see her, because she's such a hot looking babe. Her hair is short and dark brown, in a severely sexy cut. She loves to wear bright red lipstick on her lusciously fat lips, and also wears matching red nail polish on her fingers and toenails.

Her bush is trimmed into a perfect one inch strip, and her pussy lips are luscious and fat like her mouth, and shaved clean. She has a gorgeous ass, a wonderfully arched derrière, complimented by her sexy thighs and long legs, capped off nicely with two incredibly sexy feet and tasty red painted toes. Most of the time she walks around naked, except for her shoes or boots.

If you can imagine how funky she looks, then you can understand why I'm so hooked on her. It took me a while to get used to the idea of the boot thing and at first I merely tolerated it. But, as time went on, I found myself becoming more and more fond of her and her kinky ways. In fact I developed a foot fetish myself, which I think I've always had anyway. I found myself looking forward to tasting a leather sole or two, but my true love was sucking her feet and toes. 

The first time it happened was as good as the last time. I came home to our apartment after a long day at work, and when I opened the door Kate jumped me from behind and wrestled me to the floor. At first I thought she was playing some sort of sexual game with me, but I quickly realized that she was dead serious as soon as she planted the tip of her combat boot into my ribcage.

"Get up off your ass soldier boy! It's high time that your Sergeant teaches you a lesson! Now strip down and get on your hands and knees! I want you to polish my boots with you tongue!" AShe belted out her orders. Intimidated by her stern forcefulness I was more than happy to obey her commands. I quickly ripped my clothes off, and much to both our surprise, my cock was hanging heavy with a throbbing and beefy hard on. By ordering and bossing me around she had actually turned me on! I looked at her, and I think she was just as turned on as I was, and before giving me another direct command she squeezed my throbbing cock and swollen balls with her warm hands, and gently kissed my face. 

I got down on all fours as I was told to do, and Kate held her boot up to my mouth. I began to lick the top of her tasty leather boot, and much to my surprise I listened while Kate began purring like a turned on slut. The more I licked her and got into it, the more she played with herself and the louder she got. Squeezing her tits, pinching and pulling her nipples, working on her stiff clit with an overheated frenzy.

Just hearing her breathing, her moaning and groaning, watching how turned on she was, had my pecker stiff as a fence post. Glancing down I spied my cockhead drooling and leaking precum onto the carpet. My balls were dangling low and full, dragging along the carpet as I moved my hips from side to side, while I continued to lick Kate's sexy boots clean. 

"Lick it! Lick the bottom of my boot! Lick it like you mean it! Come on, hurry up I wanna cum to day Private! Lick my boots clean!" she ordered. I went to town and using the flat top and bottom of my tongue swiped her boot with full long licks giving her what she'd ordered. She smacked my ass hard as I glanced up at her, and then she slid two fingers deep into her juicy,wet cunt. I reached up to help her out but she slapped my hand and pushed it away. My cock twitched and throbbed, growing longer and harder.

Kate began working on her G-spot, reaching and bending her hand and fingers to maintain contact. I kept up the pace on the bottom of her boots and the faster and harder I licked the faster and harder she fingered her hot cunt. I rode the heat wave and finally joined in, grabbing hold of my aching and drooling cock. I firmly stroked pulsating rod, squeezing my swollen knob with each loud moan and groan emanating Kate's Military mouth. I wanted to cum along with her. I ran my tongue slowly from the heel of her boot along the seam, all the way to the tip of the toe making sure I was staring straight into her eyes. She was getting so sloppy and wet that her hand was slurping and squishing in and out of her juicy cunt, splashing my face every time she slapped her hole. I knew she was seconds away from cumming so I pointed my cock downward and kept stroking.

Kate started moaning like a wounded animal, her hips moved with involuntary jerks, bucking and thrusting up to meet her frigging fingers. She fingered herself to a big, juicy orgasm that must've lasted at least two three minutes! I tried to beat my cock faster so I could cum too, but my balls weren't ready, just yet. It would take Kate's next command to spark the explosion I so desperately needed.

Shoving her boot tip into my open mouth while she looked me in the eye and with a determined and motivated look she issued the next set of orders.

"Suck off the tip of my boots! I want you cum while you blow my boots and my toes! Give my feet head or I'll cram my foot up your ass soldier boy!" She drilled at me.

I almost gagged as she buried her boot inside my mouth. Her eyes opened wide as she watched me take her boot in my mouth. I took that boot and bobbed up and down over top of her steel tipped toes like I was sucking off a cock. The excited look on her face and the gleam in her eyes told me I was doing it right. I beat my meat faster and was a stroke or two away from cumming. I glanced up at her again and she produced a big, fat dildo. Positioning it at her tight back door, she swirled it around her asshole. I knew exactly what she was up to. Her asshole was already nicely lubed from the gargling stream of cunt juice so when she squished that big, fat plastic dick into her butt hole it eased in gracefully.

Suddenly, Kate went off on like a screaming banshee riding a nuclear missile. I followed suit and cam along with her this time! Kate rammed that thing deep into her ass while I pumped my cock with insatiable intent. She tweaked her clit each time she pulled back on the dildo and spun out of control. I sucked on her boot adding plenty of fuel to her overheated cunt. She convulsed with such force that that fake cock fired out of sexy asshole as she crossed from one orgasm right into another. 

I yanked my cock into a full, mouthwatering, creamy load as my bloated balls dumped several thick gooey globs cum onto the carpet below.

I was hooked on Kate's Boot Camp and had managed to pass basic training with flying colours! I could hardly wait to find out what my next assignment would be!!!

Boot Camp



I was addicted to the TV show "Boot Camp" in 2001. I've taken two incidents from that show and changed them enough to make them my own and write a story around them. I'm not a military scholar so I may have put something in this story that would make a military person scoff. If I did, I apologize. I'm not Tom Clancy *smile* But please do send me an email and tell me what I screwed up if you find something glaringly wrong. And please be wearing a uniform when you write me the scolding email, and tell me in detail what it looks like on you...*big grin* 

A couple of the characters are based loosely on people in the show. All characters are entirely fictional. All characters are the property of Moxy Irish. I hope you enjoy the story! 

* * * * *

I.

Recruit Murphy was in a world of hurt. Castille watched with a touch of pity out of the corner of her eye while jumping down into another squat-thrust. Drill Instructor McCafferty was in Murphy's face yelling at the top of his voice. 

It was the end of a very long day. Murphy had been cranky since before lunch and an offhand remark she made had cost the squad a half hour of free time. The recruits had just finished the extra PT exercises. The squad broke out of formation and started gathering their things, silently thanking God the afternoon was over. Murphy had moved away from the formation to where she dropped her pack earlier. 

McCafferty barked, "Murphy! Did you enjoy the extra 30 minutes of PT you caused the squad with your *little attitude* at chow?"

Murphy mumbled, "No, Sir." Raising her face toward the sky in frustration and tiredness.

McCafferty barked, "So we still have an attitude, eh? Ok, try to roll your eyes as you drop and give me 20!"

Murphy dropped into position automatically with a tired sigh. McCafferty had started striding over to her when he caught her mumbled, "I didn't roll my eyes, Sir."

He stomped over and yelled, "That's 30 now Murphy! Now PUSH!"

And Murphy...poor Murphy...at the end of a very long day...Snapped.

She held her position, arms shaking as they held her body above the ground. "I did NOT roll my eyes, SIR!"

McCafferty bent at the waist and started screaming a foot from her ear. "CLOSE YOUR MOUTH MURPHY! YOU'VE GOT 50 NOW! PUSH!"

Murphy screamed back, "I DID NOT ROLL MY EYES, SIR! I DID NOT ROLL MY EYES, SIR! I DID..." Murphy couldn't stand it anymore. She leapt to her feet, screaming back in the young Drill Instructor's face, "NOT ROLL MY EYES, SIR! I DID NOT ROLL MY EYES, SIR! AGRRRGH!"

McCafferty roared over Murphy's voice, "I *DO NOT* WANT TO HEAR IT MURPHY! YOU CLOSE YOUR MOUTH! I'LL HAVE YOU OUT HERE ALL NIGHT, RECRUIT!" When Murphy leapt up he went ballistic, standing an inch from her face and roaring, "GET ON THE GROUND! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND *GET* ON THE GROUND!"

When Instructor McCafferty had started to discipline Murphy, Drill Instructor Taglieri had barked out an order for the rest of the squad to go into squat thrusts. They had all faced him from wherever they had wandered to and dropped down, tiredly forcing their bodies to do the exercise. 

Taglieri moved swiftly from where he was standing in front of the spread out squad when Murphy jumped up. Murphy didn't see him coming. She was too busy screaming back at the furious Drill Instructor standing an inch from her face. Taglieri took her flank, backing up McCafferty. His voice was not shouting, but it was loud enough to be heard over the din. "Stand at attention, Recruit Murphy!"

Murphy's body snapped automatically into attention, but she continued to scream. "I DID NOT DO IT! I DID NOT DO IT!"

McCafferty lowered his furious voice a touch. "Shut your *mouth* Murphy!"

Taglieri growled loudly at her right ear, "SHUT UP, Murphy!"

Murphy was tired. Very, very tired. Tears were running down her face and her throat hurt from shouting. The arrival of the other Drill Instructor overwhelmed her. She quit screaming at the man in front of her. She still looked directly into his face though. Her brown eyes were crackling with anger, her chest heaving, loudly breathing through her mouth. She was on the edge of snapping again.

Taglieri read her face. "You had better calm down, Murphy! You had better think about it! Don't you start again Murphy!"

McCafferty was snarling at her to drop to the ground, Taglieri was growling loudly in her right ear and Murphy was two seconds from punching the young Drill Instructor directly in front of her who had been riding her for weeks. 

Taglieri saw her expression harden and growled loudly, "You better THINK about it, Murphy! You better THINK about it! DON'TEVENTHINKABOUTIT!!"

It was then that Castille lost it. She started laughing hysterically, as quietly as possible. She dropped to a knee, her whole body shaking with mirth as she remembered the last lines the handsome, stern Drill Instructor had said and how he had said them. She actually had tears forming she was laughing so hard. That was the funniest thing she had heard in weeks. Somewhere in her peripheral hearing she heard the scene quiet down, a few seconds of total silence followed by the sound of a body dropping to the ground and McCafferty's snarled "PUSH!"

She was glad it was over and felt bad for Murphy, but she just couldn't stop laughing at the unintentional one-liner. She didn't notice the pair of boots in front of her until a stern voice murmured. "Having fun, Castille?"

She looked up startled. Taglieri was in front of her and she could see Drill Instructor Schell heading her way. She leapt from the ground and stood at attention for about three seconds before dissolving into laughter again.

Taglieri's voice was a quiet purr. "Are you laughing at your fellow Recruit, Castille?"

She sobered up at that and bit out, "God No, Sir!" wiping her face swiftly. Christ, he was always waaaaaayyyyyy more dangerous when his voice was quiet.

Schell had showed up and flanked her, staying silent.

Taglieri continued, a dangerous look in his chocolate brown eyes, "Then what are you laughing at, Castille?"

That reminded her of what she had been laughing about and she dissolved into laughter again. By the time she had sobered up, McCafferty was flanking her other side. Ruh Roh, completely surrounded. She begged her brain to not play the line in her head again.

Taglieri murmured pointedly, "I said. What. Are. You. Laughing. At. Castille."

She took a deep breath and managed not to lose it again. "Something you said struck me as funny, Sir."

Taglieri cocked his head slightly in a mocking movement, "Oh really? Something I said? I'm so very curious to find out what I could have said that brought you such overwhelming happiness." He leaned forward, his brown gaze ferocious, and murmured silkily, "Do tell."

Castille was horrified, but she couldn't wipe the grin away that kept coming back to her lips.

She cleared her throat, "You said...you said..." Her voice dropped into a low imitation of his, unfortunately the laughter was creeping back in, breaking up her words, "You better...THINK about it, Murphy!..." Her body shook with laughter but she continued, "...You better THINK...about it!...DON'TEVENTHINKABOUTIT!" She laughed through the last few words and lost it again, dropping back down to one knee as she laughed uncontrollably.

Taglieri, Schell, and McCafferty managed to keep the grins off of their faces due to years of practice. It was rather funny. Tag hadn't even been completely aware of what he was saying at the time. What was even funnier was the completely gone recruit laughing helplessly at their feet. But they were professionals. They did not *laugh* with insubordinate recruits, even insubordinate civilian recruits.

Taglieri purred again, his voice dangerous and slightly triumphant, "I hope the laugh was worth the hour of PT you are going to get tonight after chow, Castille."

She had moved to a hip, an arm between her knees in a casual resting stance. She looked up at him grinning, completely forgetting where she was and letting her natural easy-going personality come full front. Her laughing blue eyes met the shuttered brown ones of the attractive Drill Instructor as she drawled, "Hell, Sir. You could spank me into next Sunday and I *still* wouldn't regret it. That was the best laugh I've had in eight weeks."

After a few seconds she pushed to her feet and stood at attention, having nearly mastered her laughter.

Schell and McCafferty had silently chuckled for about two seconds over her head when she sassed Taglieri. But they sobered themselves, and looked at her sternly when she brought herself to attention.

Taglieri merely stepped up to her, his brown eyes burning. He bit out, "If I did that, Recruit Castille, I *guarantee* you would regret it. Now *Push*."

His expression turned to one of satisfaction when her blue eyes grew round with surprise and fear. She dropped hastily to the ground and started doing push-ups.

He let her up after 20 and allowed her to scurry off to the barracks with a growled, "I'll see you in the sand pit for punishment at 1900 hours, Castille."

II.

Castille dragged her ass back to the barracks after Taglieri finished with her that night. The dark-haired Drill Instructor had been ruthless, running her ragged for the full punishment hour before allowing her to head off to bed. He stumbled past the male barracks and headed into her home for the past eight weeks. Three pairs of eyes followed her as she staggered into the female barracks. The other women all murmured sympathetic words to her. 

She smiled at them, "No worries. I *still* don't regret what happened."

Murphy moved over to her, "What exactly happened? I wasn't in any state to pay attention to anything."

At her words Castille started chuckling again, "Ok, let me preface this with I was *not* laughing at you..."

The rest of the women gathered around, they had only heard bits and pieces of why Castille was being punished. When she imitated Taglieri's voice and said what he said, all of the women burst into laughter. Castille started laughing so hard she fell onto her rack. The barracks laughed and repeated the episode to each other for a good ten minutes before they finally wound down and started preparing for sleep.

Drill Instructor Taglieri chuckled and moved out of the shadows outside of the barracks open window. It really was a funny story. He was more interested in what happened afterwards though. He made his way back to the Drill Instructors' quarters musing about Recruit Emma Castille.

Working on a reality TV show was a far stranger experience than the Drill Instructors expected. They were all US Marines and had been real Drill Instructors for the Marine Corps. All of them were out of the Corps and in the world now. They had responded along with countless others to the advertisement sent out by the TV producers. 

Their job was to take 14 civilians, male and female, and teach them about the experience of Boot Camp. However, these recruits weren't soldiers. They were regular people of varying age range, most in their 20's and early 30's, that were there to win a game.

The Drill Instructors were a shock to most of the squad. Many of them hadn't ever had to deal with being dominated in any way. Now it was their life from the minute they woke up to the second they closed their eyes at night. As for the Instructors, they sometimes found themselves dealing with situations that would never happen with real recruits, like the incident with Murphy. They often talked candidly among themselves, without the cameras around, about their interesting group of civilian recruits.

Drill Instructor Schell was the oldest of the three at 45 years of age. He was a husband and father of two. One of his daughters was in college near his South Carolina home. He had retired after 25 years in the Corps. He was the quietest and most reasonable of all the Drill Instructors. He would ride the squad's collective ass when he needed to, but most of them saw him as a Father-figure type, and strove to make him proud. He was a bit gentler than the other two men and would talk to the recruits and become approachable when there was down time. 

Drill Instructor McCafferty was seen as a sadistic older brother type. He was the youngest Instructor at age 29. The South Bostonian had been in the Corps since the age of eighteen and had spent several years as an Instructor. He was loud, maddening, and demanded immediate obedience. Most of the recruits resented the hell out of him, but when he praised them, or allowed a joke or a smile to pass his lips, they hung on it. They grumbled about him, but it was obvious to most of them that he rode them so they would become better rather than out of meanness.

Drill Instructor Taglieri was a strange mix of Schell and McCafferty. The San Diego native was 31 and had spent 10 years in the Corps, spending time in Bosnia and the Gulf. He could easily get as loud as McCafferty, but tended to keep his voice down and speak through action and expression. The recruits feared him, but as with the others, they worked hard to make him proud of them. Periodically he would let them see a lighter side. He had a wicked sense of humor and occasionally said something that had them fighting to keep straight faces.

The squad was originally made up of young and old, female and male, married and single, with most of the married people being parents. They completed missions, cultivated team comraderie, participated in forced exercise, were continually yelled at by the Drill Instructors, and lived much like real recruits. However, they had to vote people off every 10 days or so. The back-stabbing and alliances were not something real recruits had to deal with. It was a game, and the two recruits left standing at the end of 14 weeks were going to have to compete against each other, the winner eventually winning a large cash prize. 

It was week nine and the squad had been cut down to eight people. By chance it was divided equally males to females. At this point in the game the older people, the weak, and the annoying people had been weeded out. The squad was fairly strong and the recruits were responding more like a well-trained unit. The Drill Instructors had been impressed with their "kids" for the last few weeks.

Taglieri arrived at the Instructors' quarters. The quarters were strictly off limits to any cameramen. They all had private rooms with common spaces like a rec-room and a kitchen. The other two Instructors were kicked back in the rec-room, and greeted him when he walked in. He dropped into a chair, tired and still musing.

McCafferty murmured, "How did it go with Castille?"

"Oh fine, she's incredibly willing. She didn't give me any trouble." He chuckled, "She told the story to the rest of the girls though, they laughed for like ten minutes."

Schell's smile was teasing, "It really was funny the way she told it, Tag."

Tag nodded, "I agree, it was funny, and it was hell not to laugh when she was rolling around nearly under our boots."

McCafferty picked up his mug and took a swig of tea. "Castille really is something else. I know we aren't supposed to get attached. but I hope they don't vote her off. She has been good-natured and dedicated from the second she got here. And the woman has a wicked sense of humor, I almost lost it today when she threw out that spanking remark."

Schell grinned, "Yeah, that was really funny, God knows I like the girl too. I think the look on her face when Tag threatened her was funnier though."

Tag pointed at Schell with a grin, "Hey now, I didn't threaten anyone."

McCafferty nearly spit his tea out. "You did so!"

Tag shook his head smiling wickedly, "No I didn't, I said *if*. *If* makes all the difference."

The other two men laughed and then started talking about what they were going to do to the squad the next day.

Tag went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He sat down at the kitchen table wanting a few minutes of privacy. Recruit Emma Castille was still on his mind. 

The dark-haired, blue-eyed recruit was a single, 32 year old woman from Northern California. From her file he knew that she trained horses for a living and gave riding lessons. That came out in her interactions with the squad. She was a natural leader and trainer, but practiced a good-natured, 'soft' leadership. She often had a recruit thinking something was their idea as she guided them towards an action that she wanted. She helped others, even if it meant increasing her time on a timed course. She was also incredibly honest. She didn't take part in the rampant back-stabbing, and spoke very plainly about hating having to vote. She was often very funny and made the other recruits laugh all the time. She was a strong candidate to win the game. He hoped she wouldn't get voted off because of her strengths. He liked her. Perhaps more than he was supposed to. 

He had to admit he was attracted to her looks from the beginning. She was pretty, rather athletic, and stronger than she looked. She was fairly tall at 5'9, only a few inches shorter than his 6-foot frame. In the beginning he had put all thought of attraction aside. That was not something that was allowed. However, as the weeks went by he was charmed. So charmed, in fact, that he rode her harder than any other recruit. He often caught her glancing at him with frustration and disappointment after he railed on her about something he would have let slide with someone else. She never ragged on him behind his back though. 

The barracks windows were kept open due to the heat of the summer months and the Instructors often heard complaints and jeers coming from both barracks. They didn't take it personally. They expected the recruits to blow off steam with each other.

Tag remembered a day when all three Instructors were grouped together discussing something near the female barracks and heard a rant going on. That day all of them had ridden the recruits mercilessly. The whole squad was ready to explode. All of the other girls in the barracks were egging each other on about how nasty the Instructors were and how much they hated them. When Castille walked in, they eagerly turned to include another in their rant. 

She had chuckled, the men could almost hear the casual shrug in her voice, "Oh I don't know, maybe it's the Roman slave girl in me. I just respond well to growly, bossy men."

There had been about two seconds of silence then laughter. The mood lightened up considerably after that.

The Instructors had moved off and had a laugh about it. They were also all impressed with how Castille handled the negative group and turned the mood positive. If anything, Tag was even more intrigued with the girl.

He pondered his beer bottle. He had heard her joke a few other times about things like that. It always made people laugh, but now he wondered. Her voice had been amused but completely frank today when she drawled the spanking remark at him. He found himself pondering what that might be like, and how she might respond to that, then he shook off the thought. He had no right to think such things. He wasn't even allowed to be interested in the girl until after the game was over. It made him wonder though. She *did* respond well to orders. From day one she had never whined about how she was treated, when all of the others were having fits. 

The only thing she had ever objected to was volume. The Instructors had been trained to yell everything, usually directly in the ear or the face of a recruit. Early in the game during a moment of downtime she had admitted to Schell that she was worried about damage to her hearing when McCafferty would scream an inch from her ear. Her hearing was sensitive and trained acutely for her job. She wasn't used to loud noises and had spent the first ten days having severe ear-aches. Schell scolded her for not reporting the ear pain and mentioned what Castille had told him to the other Instructors. 




Boot Camp



None of the men ever said a thing about it, but when they yelled at Castille from then on they did it from a foot or more away. They all found out rather quickly that she responded much more strongly to a soft, dangerous tone than a yell anyway. She buckled down without complaint when they jumped on her, and glowed under praise. He wondered how close that "Roman slave girl" was to the surface. 

Taglieri forced himself to stop musing, stood up, and ambled back to the rec-room to discuss the following day with the other Instructors.

III.

It had been another grueling three weeks. The squad was down to 4 people. Castille had been the squad leader for the last mission. The mission was successful, which meant she had immunity from the next vote. She would be one of the final two and allowed to compete for the big prize. Her mission had been artwork, all of the direct leadership she had been holding back during the previous weeks came to the surface and the squad had shined. The Instructors were extremely proud. Taglieri was so pleased with Castille's performance as a squad leader, he had to restrain himself from hugging her. 

As with all the missions, reward came to the squad when they were successful. They were given a night at a swanky hotel. However, they were still kept under discipline. They weren't allowed to order room service or dine in the restaurant. The squad had been living off of C-rations for the three days. They were hungry, but the hot showers and softness of the hotel beds made up for their growling stomachs. The next morning they were surprised and delighted when their Drill Instructors wheeled in a huge breakfast. The bonded 4-some were allowed to eat in peace and greatly enjoyed their last hour of pseudo-freedom.

The shit hit the fan a couple of hours later. The squad was in their shared barracks when the Drill Instructors stormed in like a hurricane. None of them had any idea what had happened to piss their tormentors off so much, but they hadn't seen them this nasty since the early days. They all stood at attention next to their racks, shaking.

McCafferty stepped forward and snarled, "We got a call from the hotel. One of the mints was taken out of the room."

Castille thought to herself, All this over a freakin' mint? She hadn't even seen any mints!

McCafferty's accent made his voice strident, "So it seems that we have a thief in this room. A dirty, nasty thief! I want my MINT! I WANT MY MINT!"

None of the recruits said a word or even breathed.

The Drill Instructors stepped forward as one and started tearing apart their gear. After about 5 minutes of hell, McCafferty's voice rung out. "I found my mint! I found my MINT, CASTILLE!"

Castille whipped her head around. He was in her stuff! He held the rucksack she had taken to the hotel in one hand and in the other he held a slender, wrapped chocolate. Her mouth dropped open, she hadn't taken the damn thing!

Both Taglieri and Schell's mouths dropped open, they *never* would have guessed Castille would do anything so stupid. And *especially* not own up to it before everyone's things were torn apart. There had to be another explanation.

Castille looked at McCafferty moving in on her and said, "I didn't do it."

McCafferty shouted, "You have my mint! You HAVE my MINT! Are you LYING to ME, CASTILLE?!"

Castille's eyes narrowed, "I'm *not* lying! I have never *lied* to you! I didn't take the damn thing!"

McCafferty got an inch from her face, "WHAT IS THIS?! THIS is MY MINT, CASTILLE! WHAT do you MEAN you aren't LYING TO ME, RECRUIT?!"

Castille snapped. She just completely lost it. She couldn't believe the young Instructor that had gotten to know all of his recruits so well would believe her a liar and a thief.

She screamed back at him, "ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY FUCKING HONOR?! ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR AND A THIEF?! AFTER ALL THIS TIME?! YOU *KNOW* ME!! YOU KNOW ME AND YOU ARE ACCUSING ME OF HAVING NO FUCKING *HONOR*?!!"

The room went into loud chaos. Schell and Taglieri flanked her immediately, backing up McCafferty. They shouted at her to stand down. She backed up against the edge of her rack. They were surrounding her like a pack of loud, rabid dogs and she snarled back at them, whipping her body left and right to face each of them off. She had never felt angrier or more desperate in her entire life.

Taglieri finally roared, "ENOUGH, CASTILLE!!" The other two Drill Instructors went dead silent. Castille was breathing hard and growling audibly. She managed to stop and clench her teeth when Taglieri pinned her with a savage gaze.

He stepped up to her and ground out. "We will deal with your gross insubordination later. Right now I want to know one thing. Why was the mint in your pack, Castille?"

She struggled to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. Her voice was a hoarse growl, "I. Don't. Know."

Tag's eyes burned as he growled, "That's not good enough."

Her face registered complete shock. He didn't believe her. Taglieri, her favorite, the one she tried so hard to please, didn't believe her. Her anger was tapped out. She didn't have the energy to snarl anything. She felt like he had slapped her. Her head dropped into her hands and she started crying.

All three men were stunned, they had never seen this girl react violently or cry before. It was completely uncharacteristic. They were also deeply confused. Despite what McCafferty had shouted, he really couldn't believe for a minute that she would lie outright. None of them believed that. But they were professionals and couldn't get soft now. Taglieri started to growl out something else when a soft, very reluctant voice sounded in the room.

"Uh, Sir?"

All three men rounded on the voice. The male recruit who had spoken cringed.

Taglieri barked, "What, Davis?"

"Ummm, I...I...put the...mint in Ca...Castille's pack. I...I didn't...I didn't know we couldn't take it. We had just eaten breakfast and I...found the...mint on the bed table and slipped it into...into her pack as a surprise...." He finished trailing off miserably.

Castille groaned. Davis was a very nice, 21 year-old boy and she liked him a lot. But he was as dumb as a bucket of rocks.

Taglieri snarled, "Why didn't you say anything when Drill Instructor McCafferty asked about the mint?"

Davis shook, "I don't...I mean...I...I was...He didn't...really...*ask*...I...I was...too scared to tell...to say..."

Schell cut him off, "The sand pit, Davis, NOW!"

Davis scurried out the door. Schell followed him, his mouth a grim line.

Taglieri looked at Castille. She had stopped crying, but looked completely done in. He leaned forward and growled, "I'll deal with your outburst later, Recruit Castille." Then he turned on his heel and followed Schell. 

McCafferty followed him out with a snarled, "Clean this mess up!" to the three remaining recruits.

Castille just sat down quietly on the edge of her bunk. She didn't notice the cameras or hear the other recruits. He didn't believe her. *He* didn't believe her. None of them had believed her. She had nearly killed herself for these men, especially Taglieri. She had done everything she could to make them proud of her and respect her. And now, at the very end, it had come to this. If she could have walked out that very minute she would have.

Two hours later a shaken, completely exhausted Davis re-joined the others. Castille was sternly ordered out to the sand pit. The cameras gleefully captured every second of her grueling two-hour punishment. The Instructors never talked to the cameramen and didn't know if they even noticed that something was very wrong with Castille. There was no spark, no fire, no good-natured acceptance. She went through the motions like a robot. She obeyed every order given to her, but her eyes and voice were dull. She didn't speak unless she was forced to, and then only in monosyllables. It was totally unlike her.

The Drill Instructors conversed quietly, privately several times during the two-hour stint. They all noticed it and were worried. The girl couldn't be off her game now. It was the finals. They knew she had a hellish 48 hours coming after tomorrow and right now it looked like she would never make it. Castille was going to need every ounce of her strength and good humor for the final battery of tests. They would never admit it, but all three men were rooting for her to win the game.

When the two hours were finished the Drill Instructors let her go, the cameras turned away to beat her back to her barracks hoping for some last interesting thing before being turned off for the night. Castille paused when Taglieri stepped up to her. His voice was nearly a whisper when he spoke.

"2100 hours Castille. The briefing room. Bring your shower kit. Make sure you don't run into an off-duty cameraman. This isn't for the viewing audience." He melted away and she continued wearily to her barracks.

IV.

Castille slipped into her night-Ops clothing and snuck out the door. She had no idea what this was about, but Taglieri had told her not to be seen, so she didn't plan to be. She still felt pretty lackluster, but the little stealth mission perked her up a bit. She would have had fun if she didn't have this aching, empty cavity in her gut.

She slipped into the large main building and made her way to the Briefing room. The room was in the center of the building. It had a solid, locking door and no windows to the outside. The Instructors could scream their heads off at her and none of the TV people would ever hear it. She figured that this was what this little night-Op was about. She stepped into the unlit room and immediately slipped into a dark corner. She heard the door shut and lock, then the light went on. The three uniformed Instructors faced her, blinking in surprise at the black-clad female. She stood her ground holding her small shower kit and said nothing.

Taglieri broke the silence, "Why are you out of your fatigues?"

Castille murmured, "You said be stealthy, Sir. Night-Ops gear fits closer and doesn't rustle around like the fatigues. Plus if anyone did catch a glimpse of me, they would just see a person dressed in black, it wouldn't register that it was a recruit."

It hadn't occurred to Taglieri that she would take his instructions so seriously. Approval flared up in his dark eyes for a moment, but he merely nodded and murmured, "Good thinking." He gestured to a chair, "Take a seat, Castille."

She moved to the chair and sat, setting down her shower kit. The three Drill Instructors stood around her chair, arms folded, looking extremely stern. Oh lovely, an Interrogation set-up. Just what she needed. 

Taglieri murmured, "What was that out in the sand pit today, Castille."

She stared at the floor, "I don't know what you are talking about, Sir."

He gritted his teeth, "Bullshit! You know exactly what I am talking about. You weren't even *there* this afternoon. What's going on with you?"

She looked up at him and stared at him blankly. "What's going on with me? What's going *on* with me? You actually have to *ask* that, Sir?"

Schell stepped forward, "Apparently we do, Recruit Castille. You completely lost it today and then you shut down. You haven't bothered telling us anything, so of course we have to ask."

She looked from man to man, a look of utter disbelief on her face. "Permission to speak freely, Sirs?"

The Drill Instructors all nodded.

She slid to the front of her chair and leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, her voice full of a frustrated exhaustion. "Before I start, I want to apologize. You are right Drill Instructor Schell, I *did* completely lose it. I'm not proud of that and I feel bad about it, and I certainly shudder to think what the TV people are going to do with that outburst." She paused rubbing her forehead. "However..."

She straightened up, eyes moving from one to the other. "...I cannot *believe* you people don't understand why I'm shut down." She stood up and pointed at McCafferty, facing him. "I've never given you any reason to not trust me. I've always been honest and forthright to everyone here! I've always tried my best here and I have *never* shirked. And the second, The SECOND, something happens that doesn't have a simple answer, you throw out 13 weeks of knowing me and question my honor!" 

She stepped over to the large young man, getting in his face. "My *honor* McCafferty! I know some of you military guys don't think civilians even know the definition of the word, but *I* do, Marine!"

Taglieri flicked up an eyebrow at the familiarity but said nothing.

She continued, warming up to her rant, "EVERYTHING I have put into this place, put into *you*..." She thrust a finger towards McCafferty, "...went up in smoke right at that moment. It was obvious to me that you didn't give a good God Damn about what kind of person I am. Obviously all of that talk about staying engaged with your troops and guiding them according to their strengths is a bunch of BULLSHIT! I showed you who I was from Day freakin' One! I've never given you any reason to think I was anything but on the level, and you call me a Thief! What's worse you called me a LIAR! And all three of you inferred that I was a FUCKING COWARD because it was obvious you thought I had taken that stupid fucking mint and been too scared to SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT! *GOD*! AND...*AND* You people obviously think I'm STUPID! Why for Fuck's sake would I take something I hadn't been TOLD I could take? We can't even MOVE without you people telling us we can! I've lived this way for 13 and a half weeks, you think I'm just going to FORGET that?!"

She paced back and forth in front of the chair gesturing, "I know all about the practice of 'breaking them down, then building them up' that the military uses to train new troops. I know you are supposed to make us fear you and not even think about disobedience. But I also know that Drill Instructors are supposed to *know* their people! You *made* us reliant on you! You *made* us want to please you! You made it the primary objective of our LIVES to get your approval! You can't cultivate the kind of feelings we develop for you people and then BETRAY that trust!"

She spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at Taglieri, "And YOU! You Goddamned well know that I would take a fucking BULLET for you, and the only thing you give me is 'That's not good enough.' Well FUCK YOU MARINE! That was the ONLY answer I had! And if Davis hadn't come forward you would made the same accusations that McCafferty had! I have nearly KILLED myself for you TAGLIERI! Hell for ALL of you! You *made* me want your trust and respect and approval more that ANYTHING else I have ever wanted in the WORLD and you just THROW that away!" She paused breathing heavily.

Taglieri cleared his throat, and took the opportunity to speak while she was grabbing a breath. "This afternoon was chaos, Castille. But you completely misunderstood. None of us thought you were a liar. As for what I did, I did what I had to do. You are a recruit and we are Drill Instructors. Nothing I said was personal."

She strode over to him and leaned in close. "Bullshit." Her eyes were the color of a storming sea. "Bullshit. You think I haven't noticed how you look at me when the cameras are off? You think I haven't looked at you the same way when I thought I wouldn't get caught? Neither of us ever let anyone else see it, but *both* of us know what the subtext of this Recruit/Drill Instructor relationship has been for weeks now. And it's not personal?" Her eyebrows lifted and she murmured, "Yeah right. And don't TELL me that you didn't think I did it, SIR, because I saw the look on your face. You were completely furious and your eyes were blocks of *ice*. All you saw was a naughty fucking recruit that got caught." She finished her rant, her voice rife with disgust. She remained standing and slammed her arms around her body staring over at the lower part of a wall.

Taglieri snarled, his brown eyes crackling with fire, "Now who is calling who a liar?" He stepped up to her forcing her a step back, "You know what I saw? I'll steal your appropriate phrasing, *if I may*..." he ground out. "I saw a 'naughty fucking recruit' who had completely lost it! You were two seconds from going for McCafferty's throat! What would have happened, Castille, if you had actually attacked one of us?! You were snarling your head off! You were insubordinate to the max and totally aggressive! What if McCafferty would have had to restrain you? You would have been sent home on the first bus out of here and none of us would have been able to do a DAMN thing about it! You are so caught up in feeling betrayed and insulted you are ignoring *why* I was furious in the first place! McCafferty may have been yelling at you about the mint but he NEVER ACCUSED you of LYING! You had better think back because I was THERE, God Damn it! He asked you if you were lying to him! He SAID you *HAD* his fucking MINT! Not that you *TOOK* his fucking MINT!! You took his words to all the recruits and then his words to you and jumbled them up until you *THOUGHT* you heard what you heard! If you had STAYED CALM and kept saying 'I did not take the mint, Sir. I did not take the mint, Sir.' You Goddamned well KNOW that Davis would have cracked! We didn't KNOW how the fucking thing GOT THERE, Castille, but the only focal point any of us HAD was YOU at that moment, and that is where we had to STAY! And as for the mutual *looks*, you know as well as I do that neither of us can do a damn thing about that until the game is over. My *job* is to keep your ass in line! You snapped today! My reaction had NOTHING to do with any other feelings I have for you. Jesus CHRIST, I can't even *hint* about something like that while you are still a recruit under my authority!"

She sat down abruptly on the edge of her chair, her eyes flicking back and forth processing. Taglieri backed off a step and stayed silent while she did it. Any moment now...any moment that screaming match was going to play out in her mind and she would see that he was right. Her blue gaze froze and filled with shocked realization. There it was.

She raised her ocean-colored eyes slowly and stared at him, then flicked her eyes over to McCafferty and Schell, then back to him. She murmured distractedly, "Of course I wouldn't have attacked anyone."

He murmured back, "Doesn't matter."

She looked up at him, all of the self-righteous anger was gone. So was the lifelessness. At least that was something, Tag thought. But both of those were replaced with a despairing expression of guilt. He saw that she wasn't out of the woods yet. She would stay in that place unless he pulled her out of it. He exchanged a glance with the other two men. They had hoped that a simple talking-to, and letting her blow off steam, would get her back on her game and they wouldn't have to move on to phase two. It wasn't happening. Things were about to get a touch more complicated and the other two men hoped to God that Taglieri had read her right. 

She murmured, "So...so...what happens now?"

Taglieri's voice was even, "You get punished. The insubordination is forgiven. We don't mention it again."

Her voice was distracted, "I was already punished."

He murmured, "It didn't take."

She leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh. She was so tired. Her body was so tired. "Is there time for more punishment PT before the big showdown contests happen?"

He murmured, "Yes, but we aren't going to do that. If we run you down, your opponent gets an unfair advantage."

Her brow furrowed, "What then?"

He spoke quietly, "The other idea you had."

She looked at him puzzled, "What? What idea?"

He gave her a look. "Think back. You suggested it a few weeks ago."

She was totally confused. She thought back. When had she ever suggested anything to these men? Recruits didn't go around making suggestions. She thought back to the time she was punished for laughing, maybe she said something in the sand pit...No. She went back further and then froze...Oh he couldn't mean...




Boot Camp



She looked up, her expression very cautious, "I...I don't recall an actual suggestion..."

He saw it in her face. She knew what he was talking about. "You're right, it wasn't so much of a suggestion as it was a dare."

Her eyes widened, "A Dare! Do you think I'm crazy?"

He chuckled and murmured, "Think about it. I think the intention behind it may have been. You just didn't expect me to ever take you up on it."

She thought about her words. They had been sassy. They had even been kind of flirty. And yes, well ,fine, the drawl *had* been said in a sort of a confident "I know I'm safe saying this." tone of voice.

She flicked her eyes back to him, her expression incredulous, "Drill Instructor Taglieri, are you saying you are going to *spank* me in front of these men?" Her hand gestured to the other Drill Instructors.

Taglieri's lips curved a touch, "No Recruit Castille, I'm saying that you are going to be spanked by all three of us."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes got round, "Wha...kkg..wh...Huh?!"

He barely contained a chuckle, "Your altercation may have ended with me, but it started with Drill Instructor McCafferty and it included all of us."

She exploded, "Well if you hadn't...*surrounded* me like a ravenous pack of HYENAS!..."

Taglieri put a hand up. "I'm not going to apologize to you for backing up McCafferty."

She looked at the ground not sure if she was angry or panicked or perhaps excited along with being angry and panicked. Her eyes fell on her shower kit and she pointed to it bemused. "Why did I bring that with me?"

Tag folded his arms again and drawled, "Hairbrush."

Her mouth dropped open again and she sputtered, "You! You are going to freakin' spank me with a *hairbrush*?!"

Tag nodded.

She stepped closer to him, her voice panicked and disbelieving, "Have you *ever* spanked anyone with a hairbrush, Drill Instructor Taglieri?!"

He was starting to look amused and that pissed her off. 

He cleared his throat and tried to bite back a smile, "No."

She exploded again, "Well it FRIGGIN' HURTS! And!...And!... You don't need to use anywhere *near* the force that you would use with your hand, so you had better just freakin' be careful! Plus!...Plus!...OW!"

None of the men could hold back chuckling. She was in this very funny, freaked out, self-righteous fury and she didn't seem to have any idea that she wasn't objecting at *all* to the fact that they were actually going to spank her. Taglieri broke into a full-blown grin and wondered if he should ask her where she learned so much about hairbrush spankings. He was about to say something when she continued.

"And you people had better just be planning to warm me up first with your hands, because there is *no* way I am going to be able to be spanked with a friggin' hairbrush by three men and not be bruised black and blue unless I get warmed up! Oh. My. GOD."  

McCafferty's whole body was shaking he was laughing so hard. Schell kept wiping away his grin and Tag just lost it and started laughing out loud.

"Oh fine, Go ahead and laugh at me. Yuck it up, Marine. You're not the one that's getting spanked by three...giant...scary people..."

Tag murmured, still chuckling, "I'm not laughing *at* you Castille, I'm just laughing because you're funny."

She rubbed her forehead, "Alright. Fine." She breathed out and murmured, "How is this going to go down?"

Taglieri sobered up and nodded to the table, "You'll bend over the table and..."

She cut him off with a disbelieving tone, "You are going to spank me with your hand and hairbrush while I'm bent over a table?"

He raised his brows, "You have a different way?"

She clenched her jaw, "Ok, fine," Her hands dropped to the ties at the front of her black pants, her fingers untied the knot as she stepped over to the table. She had hooked her thumbs in the topline of her trousers when Taglieri's voice stilled her hands.

"What are you doing?"

She turned to face him, hands frozen at her hips, her voice disbelieving and slightly sarcastic, "What do you mean what am I doing? I'm..." A look of realization came over her face. "...Ohhhhh...You were going to do it over the pants? She realized she was saying *way* too much. She made her voice light, "Ok, no problem, I'll just bend over your table now." She started tying the bow at her waist swiftly.

Tag stopped her by raising a hand. "No. Let's go back. Why disbelief at the table and why disbelief at the clothes?"

She sighed loudly and dropped her head in defeat. The gesture was far more funny than sad and the men all grinned again.

"Because...Well...because...I mean really..." her hands gestured helplessly, "...that's not...well really...It's just common knowledge...that's just not the proper...proper way to conduct...a hand and hairbrush...spanking, for goodness sake..." she trailed off wishing she had just kept her mouth shut and played stupid.

Taglieri grinned and made a production of making himself comfortable in a chair. "Please, Recruit Castille. Do educate us on how to conduct a proper hand and hairbrush spanking."

She blushed and murmured, "God, I really hate you."

That sent all three men chuckling and the other two arrogant SOBs settled into chairs looking at her with the same innocent expressions.

She put her face in her hands, "God. OK. Fine." She snapped her voice into a detached lecture tone, "A hand or hairbrush spanking is most commonly given over the knee on the bare skin. That maximizes target surface and allows you to see the damage you are doing. It also keeps the person firmly down and against the body while managing to keep them off balance. A variation is over one thigh, bracing the backs of the knees to stop kicking and minimize struggling. Tables are for longer implements like belts or large paddles, not the hand or a small implement like a hairbrush. I am going to Stop. *Talking*. Now."

Taglieri couldn't help himself. He purred, "Mmmm, well, doesn't our Recruit Castille just have an encyclopedic knowledge about certain subjects."

Castille bit out, "Hating. You."

Tag chuckled and continued to tease, "Really, I'd love to hear about where you find this kind of thing out. You'll have to tell me the whole story and instruct me in the full course sometime..." he trailed off grinning.

Castille looked at him then looked pointedly at the clock, "Yeah, Ok. I see you are curious. So I'll be sure to do that around about a quarter past *Never*."

All three men burst into laughter.

She groaned, "God I *suck.* Just...just shoot me." She started looking around the room. "You people must have a sidearm here somewhere, you're the military for God's sake." The three men continued to laugh. She turned toward all of them with a groan and leaned against the edge of the table. "Ok, now that I've just managed to up my abject humiliation and pain by about 1000 points. How is this going to go down?"

Taglieri sobered himself. He had been anxious before about bringing the whole spanking thing up up. The other two men thought he was crazy and had argued that they were all going to end up with it blowing up in their faces. He looked at her. She was animated again, and funny again. She didn't look *happy* but she didn't look put out or victimized, that was for sure. He found that his curiosity had grown over the last 15 minutes to a real desire to actually do it.

Tag cleared his throat and tried not to grin, "Well, in light of your gracious instruction in the art of conducting this kind of punishment, I'd say that you will go over McCafferty's lap first, then Schell's, then mine. When each Drill Instructor has figured you have had enough from him, he will let you up and have you go to the next. When I'm finished with you, we will consider the insubordination forgotten, make our way to our quarters, and start tomorrow with a clean slate."

She sighed and started removing her boots. "God. Fine." 

She dropped her socks in her boots and untied her trousers again slipping them off and folding them neatly on the table. The men just watched. It hadn't occurred to them that she would remove them entirely. She was so used to her privacy being invaded for weeks that it didn't occur to her to be embarrassed to be seen in cotton jockeys. She was more focused on how embarrassing the spanking was going to be.

Tag had to ask. "Castille why did you remove your boots and trousers?

She looked up as she removed the black jacket, dropping it on the table and turning to face him wearing only a black cotton turtleneck and a pair of olive drab jockeys. She murmured distractedly, "I'll just get tangled up in them if they stay on."

Tag tried not to notice her shapely legs and just coughed, "Fair enough."

She moved over to Mc Cafferty trying to shove down the embarrassment. He stood as she approached him, working on his own embarrassment. She didn't notice it. The fact that he was a 29 year-old male in his prime looking at a half-naked, shapely female didn't even occur to her. He was a Terminator as far as she was concerned, and beyond embarrassment over things like that. 

She stopped in front of him and snapped her body into attention. Her gaze settled on the 6'2 man's collarbone. Her voice was as official as she could make it, but she still really wished the floor would swallow her whole, "Recruit Castille reporting for punishment as ordered, Sir."

McCafferty looked at Castille, his expression hardening into a familiar disapproving gaze. The downtime familiarity they had given her was over with and it was back to business. He barked, "Recruit Castille, for your gross insubordination in the barracks today you are going to be put under discipline. You *will* submit to this willingly! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. After 13 weeks with this man she knew better than to say anything other that what was completely necessary. When she opened her mouth again it was brief, "Yes, Sir. I am willing. No, Sir, I have nothing to say."

The blue-eyed Drill Instructor dropped his body into his chair and barked, "Get over my knee, Castille."

She gritted her teeth and draped herself over his lap. Her 5'9 frame didn't feel like much as she teetered for balance over the young man's muscular thighs. The steadied herself by grasping the legs of the chair and wiggled a bit until her bottom was positioned high over his knees, her toes clenching trying to get purchase on the flat carpet.

McCafferty's voice became a silky growl, "Comfy, Castille? Because you're going to be there a while."

She groaned in embarrassment, "Not especially, Sir."

He hooked his thumbs in the top line of her cotton jockeys and unceremoniously dragged them over her hips, settling them just below her bottom. McCafferty flicked his blue gaze up to Taglieri. There was no going back now. The scene was a bit surreal to the young Drill Instructor. He had never in his life thought he would have a female recruit bare-bottomed over his knee for a spanking. He found he rather liked the weight of her body and clasped a hand to her waist, holding her warm form hard against his belly. The girl was trembling a little and the creamy skin of her buttocks jiggled slightly as he laid his large hand on one pristine globe.

His tone was hard and disapproving when he spoke, "Recruit Castille, for your gross insubordination today I plan to blister your ass for you. Besides the scene you created, I am personally offended that you jumped to the conclusion that I questioned your honor and accused you of lying. During your little *tirade* tonight you mentioned that we were supposed to know our people. I don't owe any recruit any explanation for my behavior, but the fact remains that I *do* know you Castille, and specifically did *not* accuse you for that reason! I'd like to know if you regret slighting my character and inferring that I am stupid!"

Castille whimpered, "Oh, you really have no idea how much, Sir." 

His big hand cracked down on her unpunished cheeks and she yelped loudly in surprise and pain.

"That is not an acceptable answer, Castille!"

She groaned out, "I'm sorry, Sir. Yes, Sir. I am lousy with regret. Completely remorseful. I deeply apologize, and offer amends to you and your family."

McCafferty choked and tried not to laugh. God the girl could not *keep* herself from being a smartass even when she was being sincere! Tag and Schell turned their heads until they stopped chuckling. 

McCafferty's voice was strident with his accent, "And just what were you thinking today during that pathetic display, Recruit?"

She wished to God he would get on with it and stop torturing her, "I wasn't, Sir."

He growled, "Exactly! And it is totally unacceptable to me that a recruit of *mine* would act without thinking." 

He brought down his hand hard on the opposite cheek. A matching pink handprint flared up as the "Crack!" of his hand against her bottom rang in the room. She yelped loudly again.

"I want you to *state* why you are being punished, Castille."

She squirmed with humiliation, they usually didn't make recruits talk during punishment. She took a deep breath and murmured in her most official voice, "This recruit was insubordinate, aggressive, and insulting, Sir. This recruit deserves severe punishment for her unwarranted and inappropriate actions."

He brought his large right hand down again, curling the fingers around her cheek with a loud "Smack!" and growled, "You bet your ass you do." Then he started spanking her seriously.

She immediately regretted wishing earlier that he would just get to it. His hand flashed down swiftly and hard. The smacks on her pinkening backside sounded like pistol shots in the room. She wiggled and gritted her teeth trying not to cry out, this was no moderate warm-up. The Boston native was whacking her bare bottom nearly full force from the get go. Her bottom bounced and wagged as he spanked her. She managed to keep her yelps stifled to low groans behind her clenched teeth, but she couldn't keep from squirming under the sound spanking he was giving her.

He continued to scold as he walloped her bare backside, "Recruits do *not* talk back to their Drill Instructors! Recruits do *not* speak to their Drill Instructors unless spoken to or given permission to speak! Is that clear, Recruit Castille?" 

His palm swatted her bottom especially hard and she couldn't contain the yelp that escaped when she unclenched her teeth to speak, "OH! Yes, Sir!"

Her bare bottom had turned bright red under his palm and her feet were fluttering in distress. He locked his body down on her and drove her into a wiggling, fluttering frenzy for a full five minutes before growling, "I'd say that 'naughty fucking recruits' who forget themselves deserve to get spanked with a hairbrush. What do you say to that, Castille?"

She groaned in misery, "This 'naughty fucking recruit' reluctantly agrees, Sir."

Tag covered his mouth when he chuckled out loud.

McCafferty kept his straight face and dragged her panties back up over her red bottom. "Get up and bring me your hairbrush, Recruit!"

She scrambled off his lap keeping her head bowed. She moved to her shower kit and swiftly dropped to a knee as her shaking hands opened the zipper. She pulled the hardwood, oval brush out of the kit cursing herself for her choice of brushes. Women who liked a bit of spanking in their lives never bothered with silly, plastic brushes. Silly, plastic, harmless, couldn't hurt your ass if they tried, brushes. She wished to God she owned one now, and whimpered as she clutched the wicked brush in her hand.

McCafferty barked, "TODAY, Castille."

She scurried back to him feeling the moderate burn on the surface of her bottom. She had managed to stay fairly quiet during the hand spanking and was afraid this was going to radically change in a moment. She stood at his right side and silently offered the brush with worried blue eyes.

He grabbed it and barked, "Why are you just standing there?! GETOVERMYKNEESRIGHTNOWCASTILLE!"

She squeaked in alarm and flung herself over his lap. He had to bite back a grin as her weight hit his thighs. He turned the brush in his hand and looked at it. It felt pretty heavy. He smacked his palm and raised his eyebrows, Ouch. This girl was in for a world of hurt. He dragged her panties down again. Castille's bottom was a bright, light red and very warm to the touch. He enjoyed the heat for a moment then placed the cool wood against one cheek and heard her whimper incoherently.

His accented voice snarled, "I was *completely* disgusted with your behavior today, Recruit." He brought the brush down hard and bounced one of her red cheeks off the back of it. His brow shot toward the ceiling when she yelled.

"OW! OHH NOOO!"

He continued, "Recruits don't speak out of turn, do they?" He cracked the brush down on her trembling bottom again.

"AAIGH! No SIR! NO, SIR! Recruits do not speak out of turn, Sir!"

Her voice was frantic and he cocked an eyebrow and looked at the brush. Usually he had to scream his head off to get such frantic compliance. This was far less work and a lot more fun.

He growled, "And recruits do not ever disobey an order from a Drill Instructor, do they?" The brush smacked her hot bottom hard again.

"OUCH! GOD! NO SIR! Recruits do not disobey orders from Drill Instructors, Sir!"

"Well apparently you are some kind of special, fancy recruit, because you did both today." His voice was hard and unforgiving.

She whimpered and scrambled to try to appease him, "Please Sir! This recruit gravely regrets her actions and willneverdoitAGAINSIR!"

McCafferty barked, "You're damn right you will never do it again, Castille! Ten minutes!"

She moaned, "Oh please NooaAAAIGH!" Her plea turned into a shriek as the brush flailed down on her vulnerable ass. Her hand grabbed his calf and her legs started kicking as the hardwood brush smacked down forcefully all over her bottom. 

"OW! OWW! Please Sir! GOD! Please not so HARD, SIR! OH! OUCH!"

He snarled, "Keep still, Castille!"

She wailed, "I'M TRYING TOOOOO! AAIGH!" 

She had a death grip on his leg and was keening and whining loudly. Her legs were still kicking as he spanked her.

"Castille! If you don't stop kicking *Right Now*, I'm adding another ten minutes!"

She shrieked "NOOOOOOO!" and tried frantically to lock her knees down under the chair. Her weight pressed down into his lap and her bottom arched higher. She tried deep breathing, willing her body into obedience, but the spanking fucking hurt! She couldn't keep quiet and still at the same time, so she crossed her ankles, locking her body down with sheer willpower, and yowled at the top of her voice as her flaming ass took stroke after stroke from the stern Drill Instructor.

"PLEASE, SIR! GOD! OH! AAIIGH! PLEASE, SIR, NOT SO HARD! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'LL BE GOOD!! PLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD!!!"

McCafferty was incredibly impressed with the results of this punishment. He felt some compassion because he knew he was roasting her ass with the brush, so instead of scolding her he merely murmured, "That's five, Castille. Another five minutes to go."

Her voice turned teary, "NO! NO! NO! Please STOP spanking ME! Not another five minutes! PLEASE! I'll DIE!!"

McCafferty *did* chuckle at that one. "You're not going to die, Castille. Don't be silly." He murmured in an aside, " It is good that none of the last contests involve sitting down though."

She moaned and wailed and yowled and pleaded but the young Drill Instructor was well in his element. Punishment and discipline were familiar and friendly territory. There was no way he was backing off. He delivered the last few stern strokes to her blazing hide as the last few seconds ticked away. He was willing to let her shuddering body recover a bit, and ran his hand over her fire-hot cheeks as she whimpered. After a minute he murmured, "Ok, Up."




Boot Camp



She pushed herself up from his body, raising her jockeys as she stood beside him. Her blue eyes were terribly embarrassed but flicked up to his and held his gaze bravely. She murmured, "Thank you for punishing me, Sir. I really am sorry about my outburst today. I'm especially sorry that I did to you exactly what I thought you did to me. My accusations were completely out of line. I hope you will forgive me. Your opinion matters to me, and I hope I can make you proud after this to make up for your disappointment in me today."

He blinked, surprised and a touch flattered. He had figured that she might say something like that to Tag but not to him. He decided just this once to set his snarling sarcasm aside. He was filled with a lazy arousal and a lingering good humor. He murmured, approval lighting his eyes, "I forgive you Castille. This matter is over between us. And, incidentally, excepting for a few moments today, I have *always* been proud of you."

She blinked back tears and whispered, "Thank you, Sir." Then held out her hand for the brush. She had to go to Schell next.

Tag and Schell were impressed. She could have stayed silent or pouted, she could have allowed herself to be completely consumed by humiliation and simply moved to Schell, but she didn't. Tag's brown eyes burned with something more than simple pride over a brave act by one of his recruits. The other men watched Castille as McCafferty handed her the brush, and she turned, heading for Schell.

She stopped at Schell's right and took a deep breath offering him the brush. Her voice was a husky murmur, "I'm sorry about my gross misconduct and insubordination, Sir. Please punish me as you see fit for my misbehavior."

Schell settled into his chair and took the brush, setting it next to him. He knew he should get his game face on, but he really did have affection for this young woman. As well, he was still impressed about her swallowing her pride and making herself completely vulnerable to McCafferty. 

He had been hoping the young man wouldn't throw her apology back at her, once McCafferty was in punishment mode you never really knew if he was going to cut a recruit a break. What she had done and what she was doing now was very brave in his book. He couldn't imagine that anything could be more embarrassing for a girl than getting her bare bottom spanked by three men. Especially since she had a crush on one of them. He thanked God that they were all out of the Corps and that the attraction was mutual, because none of this could *ever* have happened with a real recruit. 

He regarded her with even brown eyes and murmured, "Get over my lap, Castille."

She dropped down over his lap and prayed he wouldn't start talking about how disappointed he was and how much he hated doing it. That would make her feel worse than the damn spanking. 

Drill Instructor Schell pulled her olive drab jockeys down to her thighs and looked at her bare bottom. McCafferty had certainly done his job. Her rounded flesh was flame-red and still hot. There were a few dark red bruises from the brush and Schell thanked the powers-that-be that she had been forced to give them "instruction" about how to spank. If they had spanked her over trousers, she would have probably wound up black and blue. With her bare like this he could aim well and avoid that.

Schell murmured, "Recruit Castille for your poor behavior today and insubordination to all three of us, I'm going to punish you with a spanking. I take it you are willing and admit you are deserving?"

She grabbed the legs of his chair and murmured, "Yes, Sir, I am willing and Yes, Sir, I am deserving."

His hand descended on her bottom without ado. She jumped at the first loud smack and wriggled, but her body relaxed a bit. Thank Christ. The way he had started wasn't half as bad as McCafferty's spanking. Her feet fluttered a bit but overall she relaxed under his spanking palm. His slaps were solid and sharp but her body's predictable reaction set in, and she was lulled into relaxation and a low level arousal by the regular cadence of firm slaps to her rear end. She heard him say something after several moments, but didn't catch it.

Her voice was husky, "Pardon, Sir?"

Schell raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, "I *said* Recruit Castille, You seem to be handling this a lot better than when McCafferty had a hold of you. I wish to know why."

Castille's heavy eyes snapped open, what the hell was she supposed to say? Well, Sir, because I'm just turned on enough to be happy and sleepy?? Oh God.

She hesitated then murmured, "Well, there are a couple of reasons, Sir. One is that my tolerance has increased. Drill Instructor McCafferty's spanking warmed me up and it's easier to take now...but...but the..." she cleared her throat, "...the primary reason is that you are spanking me about half as hard as Drill Instructor McCafferty did, and I'm...well, I'm kind of...being...hypnotized."

Schell chuckled. He wasn't about to take offense at that. Her voice was heavy and relaxed, and that was fine with him. He wasn't all fired up about causing the good-natured girl much more distress anyway. However, he figured he should step it up a bit before she started snoring.

"I see, Recruit Castille. Then I suppose it's a good idea that I was just about to pick up your hairbrush." 

She whimpered at that and he gave the back of her head a paternal smile as he picked up the brush. He had brought the heat and color up on her bottom, but none of the red bruises had gotten any darker. He was afraid he was going to have to get a bit more serious to prime her for Tag. He knew darn well there wasn't going to be any sleepy drawling coming from her when she was over the black-haired Drill Instructor's lap. He tested the brush in his palm. Ouch. It carried a heavy-handed sting. He raised the brush and brought it down firmly, she yelped loudly and started waking up.

"I'm going to give you 25 with this brush for your gross insubordination today, Recruit. I suggest you take this time to reflect about the cost of bad behavior directed at your superiors in this Camp."

He brought the brush down hard, not as hard as McCafferty, but very firmly all the same. She gasped out "One, Sir, Thank you Sir!" without even thinking about it. 

Tag raised an eyebrow, he was *really* going to have to find out a bit more about her "automatic pilot" responses. 

Schell took her count in stride and whacked her bouncing bottom again.

"Oh!" she yelped, "Two Sir, Thank you, Sir!"

He slowly whacked her bare bottom hard with the brush, and she yelped and moaned after each firm smack, counting and thanking him. He completed 20 and murmured, "Last five, Castille."

She groaned back, Thank you, Sir."

He whacked her fast five times, the blows falling all over her naked bottom.

"OH! TwentyonetwentyteotwentythreetwentyfourtwentyFIVE, SIR! YEEOUCH! Thank you for punishing me, Sir!" She gasped for a few moments. The hairbrush spanking had been hard enough for sweat to break out on her body and she shook a little, processing the sting of the last five smacks. Her bottom was burning and she was incredibly reluctant to get up and take her turn over Tag's knee. Schell let her compose herself for a moment then pulled up her jockeys and murmured, "Ok, Castille, Off."

She heaved herself off of his knee and murmured, flicking contrite blue eyes to his, "Thank you for punishing me, Sir. I never wanted to disappoint you. I hope you'll forgive me for my outburst and bad behavior today."

Schell gave her a rare smile. "It's over and done with between us, Castille. Right now starts a brand new day."

She smiled a trembly smile, "Thank you, Sir."

Schell handed her the brush and she turned to make the long walk to Taglieri. It was the longest four steps she had ever taken.

Tag put on his game face and looked at Castille evenly with hard, brown eyes. She was just about to speak when he cut her off.

"Castille, it's late, and we're all tired. But I am going to do this, and I am going to take my time. You probably think you can't possibly get any sorrier for your actions this afternoon, but I'm here to tell you that you will be. When I'm finished with you, you aren't going to be able to sit down for a long time. When I'm finished with you, you aren't going to dream about forgetting yourself and speaking to any Drill Instructor like you did today. We are your Gods for the next 72 hours and you will treat all of us as such. After this is all over and the cameras have gone home, you and I can discuss things on an equal level, but until then you *will* remember who you are dealing with. I fully intend to make one 'naughty fucking recruit' into one very sorry fucking recruit. Is that understood?"

She hated feeling like this. She was absolutely crushed that she had disappointed him, and felt almost as horrible as when she thought he didn't believe her about the mint. Tears started leaking from her miserable blue eyes and she just nodded at his stern words and whispered, "I understand, Sir."

His eyes flickered. He hadn't intended to make her cry. He added so that she would understand him, "But when this is finished, Castille, It's finished. No disappointment, no judgment about the past. Like Schell said, brand new day. You get me?"

She nodded tearily, "Yes, Sir. I get you."

He took the brush from her and opened his thighs, guiding her between them. Then he just casually tossed her over his left thigh. She gasped as her hands hit the floor and moaned as she felt his right thigh close over the backs of her knees. She was really scared, but her loins woke up and yawned, looking around and sparking. Just that little bit of manhandling from the man she was attracted to heated her up.

He dragged her panties down and laid a large hand on her hot, bare bottom. His voice was stern, "Recruit Castille, you are due to be punished by me tonight for gross insubordination earlier today. I want you to state that you are willing and I want you to ask for it."

Embarrassment made her whole body flush. She cleared her throat and said used her "official" voice, "This recruit is willing and able to take her deserved punishment, Sir. This recruit hopes that you will punish her strictly and drive home the lesson that she is never to threaten her Drill Instructors or speak to them as she did today in the barracks. This recruit regrets her bad behavior and hopes that you will spank and paddle her as you see fit until you have been convinced that she has been chastised fully for her poor behavior and undisciplined actions."

Tag murmured, "Well stated, Recruit Castille." He put the brush aside and anchored her hip with his free hand. Then he went to town on her vulnerable, punished cheeks. His hand slapped her bottom hard. Harder than McCafferty she thought panicking. It only took a few seconds for her feet to start fluttering and her low groans to turn into sharp yelps.

"Oh! OH! OW! Sir, Please! SIR PLEASE! Oh not so HARD! OW! OWIEE! AIIGH!"

Tag's voice growled as he spanked her vigorously, "What do 'naughty fucking recruits' get, Castille?"

She wailed, "Oh! OW! 'Naughty fucking recruits' get their bottoms blistered, Sir! OWW!"

His hand continued to beat a steady cadence all over her fiery flesh. "That's right, Castille. And will this 'naughty fucking recruit' be speaking out of turn and throwing fits after tonight?"

She had become frantic again and clutched his lower leg in a death grip. "No SIR! NO SIR! This 'naughty fucking recruit' will certainly *not* be doing those things SIR! OW! Oh Please! Please SIR! NOT SO HARD!! OUCH!!"

Tag murmured as his palm crashed down, "Are you saying you don't deserve this treatment?"

She wailed miserably, "OHH! No SIR! No...I deserve this treatment!...But it HURTS SO MUCH! Please SIR! My bottom is ON FIRE! AIIGH!"

Her trapped legs kept trying to kick and he was glad he had slung her over his left thigh, her body was writhing all over his lap as it was, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to stop her gyrations no matter what he threatened her with.

He growled, knowing he was being cruel, "If that bottom is on fire now, girl, think about how it is going to feel when I paddle the heck out of it with your brush!"

She shrieked as his hand started spanking her full force and whined loudly, "Oh God! Please SIR! Please don't paddle me with the brush! PLEASE!"

The spanking hurt more than anything, but the inside of her body was in fits of pleasure. Her mind mocked her. Sure you don't want this big, strong, handsome man to paddle your ass with your own hairbrush. Of course you don't. Please Brer Fox, please don't throw me in the briar patch, Brer Fox. Still. It hurt. And she yowled her head off.

"Please! PLEASE! GOD! I'll do ANYTHING! PLEASE just not SO HARD SIR!"

His mind processed the "anything" remark and he filed it. Information like that could be very helpful during the relationship he planned on having with this woman in the future. After all, he smiled to himself, "anything" could get very interesting very fast. 

He walloped her for another full minute while she howled and wagged her bottom. Then he stopped, breathing hard and resting a stinging palm on her red-hot ass.

Her howls turned to whimpers as his hand started to rub her backside roughly. He looked up at Schell and McCafferty and they both looked at him with raised brows. It was a good thing this area of the building was soundproofed or the whole camp would have broken down the door. Her wailing could raise the roof. As for Tag he was enjoying himself. This was like therapy, physical exercise, and erotic stimulation all in one. 

He manhandled her ass for a few more minutes, wishing for the first time that he was doing this privately with her. He reached down and grabbed the hairbrush, "Ok, Recruit, time for the brush."

She begged frantically, "No! Oh NO! Please Sir! I've learned my lesson, PLEASE!"

Tag wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "What happened to 'spank and paddle her as you see fit, Sir'?"

She begged unashamedly, "Please, Sir! I know I deserve as much as you want to give me! But PLEASE! I'm sorry I was a bad girl! I'll be good! I won't be insubordinate again! I promise! PLEASE! I'll be SO GOOD!"

His cock jumped when she said she had been a 'bad girl', but he pushed down his strong reaction. It wasn't time for that yet. He had waited thirteen and a half weeks, he could wait a few more days. He made his voice hard and roared out, "Recruit Castille you will *ask* me to paddle your disobedient ass with this brush RIGHTNOW!"

She shrieked once in panic, then just moaned. She would rather be buried to her neck in the sand pit than ask for more punishment on her poor bottom. Her voice was teary, "Please... please Sir. Please paddle me with that horribleawfulfuckingbrush. I deserve it. But please NOT SO HARD AND FAST!"

He chuckled at her last words and decided not to punish her for them. He had just spanked her nearly senseless, and he figured he could let it slide. 

He looked up grinning at the other men but made his voice steely, "Drill Instructor McCafferty, please watch the clock for me. I am going to start this paddling now and I plan on stopping it at exactly a quarter past *Never*." 

Castille shrieked, "NOOOOO!"

McCafferty and Schell both choked and Tag couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud. He was still chuckling when he murmured, "Keep the time, please, McCafferty, Ten minutes."

She wailed again, "Please No! I can't take ten minutes with the brush! I CAN'T! It will kill me! I'll be lying here dead over your lap! Corpses are no good at morning PT! They are really very boring! Corpses are very bad dates! PLEEEEEEEESEUH!"

Tag was still chuckling and started laughing again at her prolonged whine, "No!..." He kept chuckling but was fast getting control again. "...No Castille! 'Naughty fucking recruits get their bottoms blistered'...do you remember that? Ten minutes and that's final! Anymore whining and it will be 20!"

She snapped her mouth shut and whimpered as plaintively as she could. Tag murmured, "Tell me when I'm starting, Caff."

McCafferty let the second hand make its way to 12 then said, "Go."

Castille whimpered in fear and Tag brought the brush crashing down in an incredibly hard "Smack!"

She shrieked. "AAAIIIIGH! NOOOOOO!" 

She was completely panicked, there was no way she could take it that hard. She moaned and wiggled and held onto his leg trying to brace for the flurry of blows. They never came. 

Her whimper was small and questioning but the grinning Tag ignored her. Instead he murmured, "Say when, Caff."

McCafferty caught on with a smile and watched the clock again. When the slender little hand hit 12 he murmured, "Go."

The brush smacked the crown of one cheek full force. She screamed and her bottom bounced and wagged for 30 seconds. McCafferty waited through the next thirty then nodded to Tag, "Go."

His brush spanked the other crown and she shrieked and struggled, "AAIIGH! OWW! GOD! PLEASE SIR!"

She settled down moaning after another 30 seconds. His intensely hard, drawn out spanking was sending her body into fits. The pain was unbearable, but the long hang time sent her loins into overtime, and the anticipation for the next excruciating blow was *killing* her.

She heard McCafferty's "Go." And braced, whining. The brush exploded on the under curve of her bottom. Her body bucked hard but he locked down and kept her in place.

"AAAIGH!! AAIIGH! NONONO! My BOTTOM is ON FIRE! Actual flames! ACTUAL FLAMES! PLEASE GOD!"

He murmured, "Drill Instructor Schell will you please retrieve the fire extinguisher and put me out."

Schell started silently laughing so hard his hand was braced against his gut. McCafferty laughed out loud through the next turn of the second hand. "G..Guh..huh...huh..hoh."

The brush whacked the under curve of her bottom again and her body stiffened, "AAAIIIGH! NO MORE! NO MORE!"

Despite her yelling her head off Tag noticed that once she processed the pain she stayed silent for the rest of the time, just whimpering or keening gently and wiggling her bottom anxiously. The next five minutes played out like the first five. She shrieked and begged after every mighty "CRACK!" of the brush, but she settled down before the next one was due. She hadn't actually cried again after he accidentally made her earlier, but her eyes and voice were teary and distressed. 

The last smack with the brush was just as hard as all the others and she yowled at the top of her voice for several long seconds before quieting down. Tag sat for a few minutes rubbing the moaning girl's bare bottom gently. Her whole bottom was brick red and as hot as furnace, it had several dark red bruises, but Tag knew they would fade within 48 hours. Overall she looked like one well-chastised recruit to him. 

He murmured, "I'm going to guide you to the floor." 

She felt herself gently deposited on her knees and leaned against his legs for a minute breathing hard. She murmured so low he had to lean forward to hear her. "That was by far the most brilliantly executed punishment I have ever experienced in my entire life. You are entirely too good at this and I can't decide if that delights me or terrifies me. I guess I'll find that out later. But for now, for right *now*, I'm sorry I disappointed you. It kills me that I disappointed you. I hope you have forgiven me. I'll make you proud over the next three days. I'll be a good recruit. I give you my word." Her blue gaze raised to his as he leaned down and a tear fell down her cheek. 

He brushed it gently away with his knuckle and placed his forehead against hers. "Emma. Brand New Day."

She leaned into him for a moment and then they mutually broke the almost-embrace. "Yes, Sir. Brand New Day."




Boot Camp



Finis!



Boot Camp Blues



In northern Vermont there's an old school building that we had used once as the State Police Training Facility. Some vandals had trashed the place recently, and Deputy Johns and I were sent up there to play janitor. And I certainly wasn't happy about it. But then, in the debris of some vandalized wooden lockers, I found these papers -- letters from a girl to her sister.

It was kind of strange at first to read them, but it was also kind of titillating, too. It took some work and some research to reconstruct the whole story. 

I found out that we had used the old school building for more than just a training facility. Seems that in the 80s (when I was still in school), the Corrections Department had used it, too. They had "Boot Camps" in the summer, back before they were all the rage and the celebrities even got into the act.

It had its detractors and they lasted only a couple of years. Some people apparently would rather have convicts rotting in cells, than out doing roadwork or cleaning up parks, which is what the boot campers did. Each session lasted two weeks and was segregated by sex, one session for males and one for females. The "campers" were mostly first time offenders and usually in the 18-20 age range. If you finished the two weeks, then your record was wiped clean. Or, you could quit at any time and just serve out your sentence.

The first of the letters was written shortly after the girl had arrived in camp. (I took the liberty to do some reader friendly editing.)

*****

Hi Sis,  I"m writing like you asked. They give us an hour at night to read and write. But I don't think they want us writing the truth, like I plan to do. So I found a little hiding place for this, but I'm still nervous. Anyways here goes. Oh, thanks for dropping me off. At least YOU were there for me. Wendy showed up a couple of minutes after you left. Can you believe it? She is still with that creep, Billy. I mean it was his stupid idea that got us into this mess in the first place. Anyways, Wendy joined me on the bus, and I had to fake a smile, as this wasn't the time to tell her how I really felt.

The bus slowly filled with women, most of whom looked like trouble -- and smelled like it, too. Then this pretty blonde walked onto the bus. She was dressed in a sexy red dress and red high heeled shoes. I almost laughed at how out of place she looked, while I also wondered what she did to get sent here.

Looking around, I counted twelve of us. The bus ride was long and quiet, with no talking, of course. I guess we were all thinking about just what was in store for us. The pretty blonde, meanwhile, used the trip to make sure her makeup and hair was just perfect. I tell you sis, I wasn't looking forward to two weeks of people yelling and screaming at me. And two weeks of wearing those uniforms! I wondered if the blonde knew that for the next two weeks she would be wearing pink shorts and a small white T-shirt, instead of sexy dresses?

Finally the bus pulled up to the brick building. Our new home. We all walked up the front way single file, through the front door, down a corridor, and into what must have been the gym at one time (judging by the old basketball nets that were raised up to the ceiling). The sun was shining through some windows in the roof. It made the gym sweltering in no time.

Once inside, we were met by two guards, a male and a female, and they both started to bark out orders. We each had to find the plastic basket with our name on it. It was kind of chaotic, especially with all the yelling and screaming. I just knew it!

Finally we were all standing behind our baskets. We were in two rows of six, facing each other, a couple feet apart. I was kind of surprised (what were the odds) that Wendy was standing next to me, looking petrified. We were on the end of one line. Two guards were standing by the door we had came in through, and I noticed the back doors were chained shut. I felt trapped. Even though none of them carried guns, I was sure that their flashlights and nightsticks should be considered weapons, so they still had "power" behind their badges.

The two new guards were walking back and forth, snapping at us here and there about our stances -- hands by our sides, palms out, shoulders back, chest out, feet well apart. Basically they were doing a bad Louis Gossett Jr. impression from that Richard Gere movie that you're always watching. (Except they were white.)

I have to say, though, that they were pretty intimating, if only by their appearance. He was bald, shaved clean, with a few scars. Also, tall and really built, which he showed off in a white muscle shirt and tight black pants. Basically, he was mean looking.

She was also tall, had to be a six footer herself. She wore a tight white T-shirt tucked into her black pants. It showed that she was in shape. It also showed the outline of her nipples, which made me cringe, 'cause if I could see hers, then when we wore ours.... I didn't want to think about it! Her too-short black hair was wet or slicked back. When she got in my face, I was surprised to smell perfume, as I was starting to wonder about her sexual preference.

She stepped back and told us to drop our handbags into our baskets. My heart began to race, as I had a bad feeling.

"Ok, you six on this side," she said, as she looked our way. "Remove all of your clothing and put it in the basket."

Gasps and moans quickly followed the order. I couldn't believe my ears, even though that's what I thought she might say. I knew we were going to relinquish our personal belongings after arrival -- that was in the forms that I had to sign at the courthouse. But never, sis, did I dream it would happen like this. I was looking around, dumbfounded, for a moment, and I guess most of the other girls were, too.

"I said, 'STRIP'!" She snatched her nightstick off her belt. The bald guard also pulled out his weapon. It was like a whip that a jockey would use. It also reminded me that HE was there.

"In front of him?" One of the girls on the far end moaned out, seemingly for me, or all of us.

"What! you don't think I've seen a pair of tits before?" He hissed, as he raced over in front of her. He punctuated his question with a whack on her thigh from his whip. She cried out, probably more from shock, than pain. I noticed the girl next to me was already down to her panties. She slid them off too, and I gasped as I realized just how naked they wanted us.

"At least we have one camper that knows how to follow orders," the female guard said, standing in front of the naked girl. She slid over to me. "What the fuck is your problem, are you deaf?"

"No ma'am," I managed.

"Then why ain't you naked?" Her face was inches from mine. "You too, honey pants," she said, glancing over to Wendy. We shared a roll of the eyes, before I kicked off my shoes and started disrobing. I'd dressed simply, because I knew I would be taking them off in front of someone. (Of course not a gym full of people.) First my sweatshirt (I left my bra at home 'cause I knew from the forms, they weren't allowed inside, anyways), then my jeans. I had the bad luck of being down to my panties when the bald guard moved over in front of me. He didn't even hide the fact that he watched as I peeled them down. Maybe he didn't have to.

With all my clothes in the basket, I was standing buck naked along with 5 other girls. I was using my hands to cover my body, and the others were doing the same. The guards seemed amused at our timid postures. With a bark, they ordered us to assume the stances that we had learned a couple minutes earlier. I'll tell you, sis, this stance was not meant to be done naked. I've never felt so exposed.

I was left looking at the blonde, standing across from me. She wore a look of dread on her face. She had to know that her line would be next. Before that happened, though, the guards moved in front of the first girl in my line. The female fished her shoes out of her basket, and examined them, and told her to put them on, saying something about the cold floor, which was strange, because it wasn't at all cold.

After she put on her shoes, they read her name off the basket and asked her why she was here. The female guard then put a metal dog-tag, like soldiers wear, around the girl's neck. Then they ordered her to turn around and put her hands on her knees. The female guard, meanwhile, changed her nightstick for a flashlight. I was listening to the instructions, but I didn't want to watch anymore, because I knew I was in line for the same humiliating treatment.

The next order, "Spread your cheeks," caused some gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I found out what the flashlight was for, before they moved on to the next girl. My heart was pounding, as they dealt with the girl next to me. And then it would be my turn!

"Stay strong!" I kept telling myself, as I didn't want to lose it, before they even got to me. I wasn't really surprised to learn that the girl next to me was in for prostitution. Maybe that's why she knew the drill -- and didn't seem to mind stripping in front of strangers.

They moved over in front of me. It felt like my face was on fire. She pulled my shoes out of the basket, and I was thankful that I'd worn simple, open toed shoes that I could just step into. As she looked for my tag, she asked me about my crime. I had no simple way of saying it, so I just told her the truth -- about us stealing Davenport High's mascot for our senior week prank.

"No shit!" she gushed, finding my tag. "I read that in the paper. Didn't the thing die on yah?" 

I just nodded my head, still embarrassed about it. "Man, isn't life a bitch?" she teased, as she applied my tag. It was now my turn to turn around and face the light. I cursed myself for letting Eddie talk me into shaving down there now, because I knew when I pulled my cheeks apart.... Well, at least it sped up the process, but it was still the most humiliating thing I've ever had to do.

It was Wendy's turn next. I know you know how shy Wendy is. She had to be just dying. She always complained about the size of her breasts. I tried not to look, but I was burning with curiosity, since, as long as we'd been friends, I'd never seen her naked.

Well, she's right, sis. Her breasts are huge, and they're capped with big brown nipples. She even had to go through the extra step of holding her breasts up, by just the nipples, so they could check underneath them. I know I shouldn't have, but I felt a small twinge of delight come over me, when it was her turn to spread'em, because if she hadn't talked me into stealing that damn mascot....

Finally they were finished with our row, and we had to pick up our baskets and pass them through a window, to the other female guard. She was on the other side, in some sort of storage room. And when I returned to my spot, I felt even more naked now, without my basket.

With the six of us back in our lewd positions, the guards turned their attention to the other six women. I don't know what they must have felt, watching us go through our strip-search, but I was about to find out, as it was now our turn to do the watching. The male guard only seemed interested in the pretty blonde (which didn't really surprise me), as she slid off her sexy red dress. She wore a small red strapless bra and matching panties. She glanced up and gave him a dirty look, which pissed him off. 

He slid really close to her. "You eye-balling me?" He hissed.

"No, sir," she managed, her voice cracking.

"You got a problem with me in here?"

"It just doesn't seem right, sir," she said, probably for all of us.

"You questioning me?"

"No, sir."

"Liar! Drop and give me twenty."

"But...I'm in my bra and panties," she complained, before the bald man's whip came smacking down on her ass. From the distinctive sound, I figured she must have worn a thong. She let out a yelp, before she assumed the push up position, and my assumption was confirmed. He made her count them off. She struggled to do ten. (The guard's foot on her back didn't help.)

"Get your ass up, and get your ass naked, and don't ever question me!"

So much for all that time on the makeup. Her mascara was already running down her cheeks, as her bra and panties made their way into the basket, leaving us all naked. I felt a twinge of envy, as I have to say that she had by far the best body here (and that includes me). But she still looked self-conscious. So there were a few girls who had to have been really mortified, to be in the shape they were in, and to be naked in a group setting like this. I owe coach Debbie a big hug.

We watched as each of them went through the same process we'd been through. Only the blonde had shaved herself like me. (So at least I wasn't the only one.) When asked, she said she was in for traffic violations. (Huh, she had to go through all this 'cause she couldn't drive?) After they deposited their baskets in storage and got back into line, I was wondering what could possibly be next.

The male guard pulled the blonde to the center, and then he told a tall redhead to stand behind her. He turned to our line and told me to stand behind the redhead. The prostitute was next, and then another, and then finally Wendy. He ordered the rest of the girls to take seats on the wooden bleachers and wait there. It was so totally weird, sis! It was like he had just put us in order of how we looked in the nude. It had to be more than a coincidence. (At least he picked me ahead of Wendy.)

The female guard stood in front of the blonde and told us to follow her. The male guard followed Wendy. (She had to just love that!) We were led back out of the gym and into a small locker room. It smelled awful. At the far end of the room was an open doorway. When I left the house this morning, it was the part I was dreading the most -- the showers.

She had us file in as she turned on the spray. The floor was dirty, so I kept my shoes on. I noticed the others did too. The water came from a pipe overhead and not from the wall. There were three heads where water came out of, with a soap-on-a-rope hanging from each one, so we had to share. Get this...I was now showering side by side with a real life prostitute. We even had to face the female officer, who was a little bolder than coach Debbie. She wasn't hiding the fact that she was watching our every move, while pacing back and forth just inside the shower area, reminding us that we weren't allowed to turn our backs on an officer. And the water was freezing -- or maybe it was that the gym had been so hot.

I don't know if the male was allowed in the shower area or not, but I noticed he was leaning against the doorway, smoking a cigarette. I guess we were his break-time entertainment, since we were still giving him an eye full. I bet Wendy wished she'd showered with the rest of the cheerleaders after practice now, because it was good experience for when we were called out of the showers and had to stand on some rubber mats and drip dry. The female guard only laughed when the blonde wisely asked for a towel. The question resulted in more pushups for Blondie, only this time without the bra and panties. She had to do twenty naked pushups on the mat. When she got up, her pretty pink nipples were all dirty, poor thing.

I don't even know why some of the girls were trying to hide their bodies at this point. Maybe it was the cold water. (I know my nipples were certainly standing erect.) Wendy was cowering in the back. (What a pussy!)

It was slowly coming to me that (even though this was the USA) they were doing what conquerors have done for centuries: strip their captives of their clothes and strip them of their pride. Well, I was already naked, but I was determined to keep my pride.

Little did I know that they were just getting started.

It was time to line up again. I was behind the redhead again. I found out her name was Felicia. It fit her. (A pretty name, for a pretty girl.) They made us line up so close that her wet hair was dripping onto my breasts and off my nipples.

Finally it was time to walk again. We went down the hall and into a small room that was probably used as a classroom at one time. We had to line up against the wall our right shoulder pressed to the wall. Looking around, all the chairs were pushed together into a pile in the back. Just a big wooden table stood in the center. 

I suddenly heard a couple of girls, gasp. Looking to my left I saw why. There were windows that looked out onto the playing field and there was no curtains or blinds. It reminded me that I was still naked. Anyone walking by could see...everything. I didn't want to think about it.

The male guard pulled on a cord, and a big white sheet fell over the blackboard. The female guard pulled something from a closet and set it up -- a fucking camera, on a tripod. The redhead looked over her shoulder in disbelief. I shared her feelings. 

The blonde went first of course. The male guard, who I'll call Baldie from now on, wrote her name and number on a little blackboard, while making a lame joke that some of us probably couldn't read or write. The blonde held the blackboard under her chin for the first shot, and then Baldie grabbed it away. Then the female took another front shot of her. Then a side shot, a back shot and then the other side. 

I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT! 

They were going to be taking nude pictures of all of us, yet no one said a word. Watching the redhead go, I knew I was next. What could I say, sis? I really didn't want to pose for nude photos, but I didn't want to do nude pushups, either. 

I was shaking when I shuffled my way up front. Then something happened that made me laugh. Baldie handed me the little blackboard, but he spelled my name wrong. 

"Now, who can't write?" I said, and the girls all enjoyed a laugh. He got real red-faced and he changed it. After my photos, I was about to get back into line, but Baldie grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to the wooden table. Was he was mad! The veins in his forehead seemed to pulsate. He told me to reach over the table and grab the other side. At first I just looked at him like he was crazy. And then I thought maybe he was, so I got into position. It was a reach. My heels even came out of my shoes. Looking to my left, I saw that the photos had been put on hold. Some of the girls were watching, some not.

I knew what this position was for, but the first blow from his whip still startled me. (This also wasn't in the forms I filled out.) I tried not to make any noises, but it was hard, 'cause it stung like hell. This wasn't like one of mom's spankings. Blow after blow they came, until I finally screamed out. Thank god he stopped. I felt his hand resting on my ass. I snapped my head around. He just sneered, while he rubbed my sore ass cheek. As wrong as I felt about, it did help with the sting.

"Let that be a lesson to all of you," he hissed, as he pulled me off the table and pushed me towards the other girls. They finished up the photos as I tried to clear my eyes. Then all six of us were back against the wall. I was wondering what could possibly be next. 

The female made a phone call, from this red phone on the wall. I couldn't hear her, but I knew she wasn't ordering a pizza. A couple of minute of nervous anticipation, where interrupted by two men in white coats and two women in white dresses walking into the room. I was a little puzzled. I was thinking that they certainly looked like two doctors and nurses. But why were they here? This was a classroom after all. I also remembered the whole naked thing again.

"Ok ladies," the female guard said, getting our attention. She introduce the doctors and nurses -- but I was too nervous to remember their names. I'm like most, I hate doctors. Also my first "big girl" exam was still fresh in my mind. "They're here to give you an exam, to make sure you're physically fit enough to take the two weeks here, and to document your health and appearance. Then after the two weeks, they will exam you again to document your condition, just to make sure that no harm has come to you in our care.... Like that would ever happen."




Boot Camp Blues



Now, I figured that's what the photo's were for, and probably why Baldie waited until after the photo's to give me the spanking. I also figured it was like my school exam for cheerleading. Only this time in the nude. 

I really didn't have time to think about it, because a nurse called me over to take my blood pressure. I was surprised to go first, this time. She sat me down on this chair that was like built for a third grader. I was not at all surprised that my BP was a little high. She gave me a manila folder (that I guessed had my records inside) and told me to go over to the next nurse. I noticed that Baldie was talking to the two doctors, next to the table, having a good ol' time. 

The next nurse took my envelope and told me to step on this bathroom scale. I could have told her I was 115 pounds. Then I had to stand against this part of the wall that was marked off. Yep 5'4" tall. She wrote down her amazing findings and pointed me to the doctors. Even though it was only a couple of feet away, it seemed like the longest walk ever. Nurses were one thing but....

Baldie stepped back, and one of the doctors took my folder. He was a gray haired, near-sighted, pocket-protector-wearing, stethoscope-around his-neck, living, breathing stereotype. He took my folder and told me to lean against the desk. I could see the other girls following behind. 

"Ah, blood pressures a little high," he said, before he followed with, "probably nerves." I tell yah sis, this guy wasn't just a doctor -- he was also a rocket scientist!

"Ok, any tattoos?" He asked, looking up from the folder. I told him no, but I don't think it was a question. He told me to drop my arms. ( I had been trying shield my nudity.) I took a deep breath and did it. It was so weird. I mean, I know he's a doctor, but I just met him a minute ago and now his eyes were roaming over my naked body. The redhead was soon by my side and the other doctor (who was a fatty) was doing the same. I had to turn around, too. The whole tattoo search was pretty embarrassing. 

He tapped me on the shoulder and told me to take a seat. I hopped onto the wooden teacher's table. It was a little strange. But the whole day was falling into that category. I was now facing the blonde who seemed in line to follow me. Baldie was standing by her side whispering into her ears, and, whatever he was saying, she didn't like it. The doctor used his stethoscope on me. It felt like my heart was racing, but he didn't say anything. He told me to lie down on my back. I did so dumbly. He must have read my face. 

"I'm going to test your joints," he said, before he lifted my left knee up and the right followed in turn. He returned to the left only this time he raised my whole leg, straight up into the air. A cool rush of air let me know just how this exposed me. The right leg followed. He told me to flip over and did some more lifting of my legs. It was so embarrassing to do these "tests" naked.

My arms were next. Still face down he had me do these swimming motions. Then he told me to flip over. I had to do more arm exercises, This was much worse, 'cause I knew what they were doing to my breasts. Finally he had me sit up on the edge of the table. I let out a gasp, when I saw the fat doctor feeling the redheads breast next to me. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as I felt the doctor lifting my arm behind my head. When his hand started pressing my flesh, I knew that this wasn't going to be like my school exam as I'd hoped. He used his fingers and pressed this way and that way, but at least he stayed away from my nipples.

He had me lie back and fold my hands under my head. I thought the breast exam was over, but his hand came down on my breast again. This time he pressed harder and finished by pulling on my nipple. I winced. He asked me why. 

I wanted to kick him in the balls and then ask him why it hurt! 

He did the same thing to the other breast. He seemed to pull on my nipple extra hard this time, but I couldn't say anything, because Baldie was staring over his shoulder, idly snapping that whip.

The doctor worked his way down my stomach, poking and prodding, but stopping at my pubic mound. He told me to bring my feet up and put my heels together. I didn't understand, until I saw the redhead. I wanted to jump up and run, right there. But the doctor moved me into position. Heels together, knees spread apart and pressed down to the table. God, I wouldn't even let a lover put me into this position.

He was standing by my side with his back towards me, when he cleared his throat and said he was going to do a manual exam. I didn't know what that meant, but basically he spread my pussy open with his fingers, and then he slid his finger inside of me and pressed on my stomach. Baldie moved to my side and got a good look for himself at the doctor's fingering. When he said he was done (I know I made it sound like it was quick and easy, but it was far from it), I sighed. 

That was a little premature. 

I had to flip over onto my hands and knees. I found out why when I felt cool lotion on my asshole. I noticed a tear drop splash on the table, just as the doctor slid his finger into me, as hard as I tried not to. (I think I even cried when mom's doctor did it, only her finger wasn't as fat or neither did it plunge as deep.)

I felt something larger than a finger being pushed into me next, and I let out a squeal. The doctor laughed and told me it was only a thermometer. It was like a final insult. The redhead and I had to remain in this sexual position for four minutes with a thermometer sticking out of our butts and with everyone behind us watching. It was the longest four minutes of my life.

The doctor used a damp wipe to clean me off and then told me to hop off the table and stand with my hands by my side and wait quietly. He finished his statement by slapping my ass. When he did, it dawned on me that he never said a word about the condition of my ass. I mean it had to still be a little red.

When I got off the table and turned around, I noticed something kind of strange was going on between the two doctors. Then it hit me -- they were fighting over who was going to get the honor of examining the blonde. I'm not lying sis. They even threw fingers, and my guy won. The fat guy was pissed, 'cause he had to settle for the prostitute. I laughed inwardly. It was so pathetic and unprofessional. And, speaking of unprofessional, the two nurses were sitting on their asses, chatting away with the female guard. The trio weren't even watching the doctors.

The blonde took her place on the table, of course Baldie was by her side. I was standing by her head when it was her turn to lay back. Her wet long blonde hair tickled my skin, as it brushed by. Since she had watched me, she seemed to know what was coming and the exam moved along swiftly, that was, until the doctor got to her pussy. Her exam seemed much longer than mine was, so long that the other doctor already had the thermometer in the prostitute's bum. He joined the other doctor when the blonde turned over on her hands and knees. I knew she was embarrassed with all the attention and I was also embarrassed because I was standing by her head. Her face on a couple feet from my p.... I wondered if she could, you know, smell my scent, 'cause I know I could. 


When it was time for her thermometer, Baldie made a few crude jokes about it. I started to wonder if these were even real doctors or not, because I'm not sure they should have been laughing at them. They also had lust in their eyes. 

A slap of the ass sent her jumping off the table and she quickly ducked behind me. I could hear her sniffling behind me when Wendy sat on the table. Even though I was mad at her, I still felt for her when it was time for her breast exam, because it seemed to take forever, and of course Baldie had some more crude jokes. 

A sudden ear-piercing shriek shook my bones. It came from the girl, on the table, next to Wendy. She was pointing towards the window. It took me a couple of seconds to spot it, but there was a face pressed up against the window. The room filled with chaotic action. The female guard raced over to the phone again. The nurses rushed to the windows. Both girls jumped off the table. All the girls on my right side seemed to pile in behind me, while I was ducking behind the table. 

Baldie just shook his head. "It's only Homeless Freddie," he said, with a chuckle. 

I saw the face disappear from my view, and then I saw him racing away on a bicycle, a guard chasing behind. For an older man he was winning the chase. I also figured he must have been standing on the bike's seat to look in, but what I didn't know was how long he had been there. I shivered, as I wondered if he saw my exam. 

Just when I didn't think it could get any worse...I mean, being seen nude by medical and prison personnel was one thing, but by an old homeless guy! 

It took a couple of minutes for order to be restored. Wendy and the other girl were ordered to climb on the table, again. Then Wendy caught a huge break when her doctor seemed to forget where he left off and ordered her to her hands and knees. (Probably because that's where the other doctor had left off. But, because this one had spent so much time on her breasts, he was behind, again.) 

I wanted to tell him that he missed a step, a very embarrassing step. I also would have loved to seen her face when he fingered her pussy, but, even so, the look on her face when he slid his finger up her ass was priceless.

Wendy's luck turned sour, however, when the doctor took her rectal temperature. He seemed to have trouble sliding it in, and keeping it in. It was also pretty gross, when he pulled it out. It also hit me, why this was so wrong that we all got to watch each other's exams. I think you can guess what was wrong, sis. The doctor called over a nurse and told her to prepare an enema. Wendy crashed down on the table, sobbing. 

And that's where we left her. 

While Baldie stayed behind with Wendy, the female led us down the hall into a small room that she teasingly said was our new home for the next two weeks. It was really nothing more than six cots, two on each side and two on the far wall, each one separated by tall skinny wooden lockers. I was glad that at least the windows were boarded up. When I found my cote with my name tapped to the foot-rail, I sat down. The room was eerily quiet. The female said something about someone being in shortly with our clothes and she'd collect our shoes. I didn't really believe the "shortly" part. But, honestly at this point, what the hell was the difference? I'd--we'd been naked for so long, anyways. The blonde quietly sat down on the cote next to me. When she looked up, I noticed her face was a mess, and I wondered if mine was too. 

One thing I had no question about...I had just gone though the most humiliating experience of my life! 

And I still had two weeks to go!

xxx

There was one more piece of paper, but it only described the camp's daily activities. And it broke off in mid-sentence.

The papers sat in my desk for days. I was burning for more. I must have read them four or five times, daily. It was time to do some further research before I went loony.

The first thing I wanted to know was the guards' names. Specifically, I wanted to know if I knew any of them personally. Unfortunately, they all turned out to be strangers. And they'd also all retired or moved away.

It was now time to try to find out who wrote this account; I had heard her voice through her writing, and now I needed to give that voice a face. I also wanted to know what happened. Why didn't -- or couldn't -- she finish it?

I was a man on a mission. There were some obvious clues in the writing that you didn't need to be Perry Mason to see. The first of which was the name of the high school whose mascot they stole. I also knew that one of them was named Wendy. So I went to the library. (Didn't the female guard say it was in the newspaper?) It wasn't that hard to find in the microfilmed newspaper files. (We may not have "The New York Times," but we do have a 153-year run of "The Davenport Advocate.") Since all four kids were over 18 at the time, I got their names -- including a "Wendy" and (ta-daa!) a "Heather."

Now that I had her name, it was time to find her. I enlisted the help from a person who, well, finds people for a living. (The old-timers called them "skip tracers.") He was quick in his search. He told me that she was in her late thirties and a single mother of three. He even gave me her current address -- in Connecticut.

I had a Saturday off, so I went for a drive. Hell, maybe I could even do some gambling at Foxwoods when I was down there. Sitting in front of Heather's small house, I really didn't know what I was going to do. I mean, some may call me a jerk, or worse, but embarrassing a single mother with three kids....

Eventually, I made up my mind (sort of) and walked up to the front door with what I hoped seemed like confidence. (Ok, let the name calling begin.) I wasn't really sure exactly what I was going to say, but, when she opened the door, my badge and some police blather got me inside. We spoke briefly (about some missing person I made up on the spot),and then I left, never showing her the papers. I wondered which of us was more confused at that point. I tried to put the pieces together on my long trip home. Something just didn't compute.

Back in Vermont, it was time to locate Wendy. She was a lot easier to find, since she lived in-state and (as I was surprised to find out) married to a career politician, who was even now planning to run for governor of our great state. I crashed a fundraiser in order to meet her. (I didn't pay.) And I did meet her briefly. She was attractive, but really overbearing. It turns out she was an outspoken (some said "rabid") supporter of the "nWo" -- the National Women's Organization. (It's funny how those initials can also stand for "New World Order." Coincidence?)

When I got back to my office I did a little more research on our computer. Things began falling into place. 

I came to this conclusion: the papers hadn't been written by Heather, but by Wendy herself.

At first I was thrown off by the simple fact that Heather had a sister and Wendy didn't. But there were some telling clues.

Wendy went on to major in journalism in college. Heather majored in getting knocked up. Wendy wrote for her school's newspaper. Heather made the school's paper. (It was one of her professors who knocked her up.)

I'd also met both Heather and Wendy, and although they seemed about the same height and weight, Heather had by far the bigger boobs of the two. (I tend to notice that.)

Then there was the blackboard incident recounted in the journal. Heather has a simple last name, while Wendy's was a tongue twister.

The final clue hit me when I got my hands on a copy of their high school yearbook. Early in the story, the writer mentions that she can't believe Wendy is still going with Billy. Well, according to their yearbook, Wendy didn't go out with Billy -- Heather did.

The only explanation was that Wendy wrote the journal, hoping to expose the boot camp. She changed the names, in case the journal was found. (Real nice friend, eh?) She also used the simple fact that Heather had a sister and she didn't, to disguise the journal as a series of letters.

Armed with this knowledge, I began to wonder about the journal's accuracy. Now when I read it, I wondered how much of it was the writer's embellishment.

It was time for another trip to Connecticut. I called Heather on the phone this time. She was hesitant to meet me, but I used a little of the old Duffy charm to get her to meet. (Honesty compels me to admit that I had to pay for her babysitter and take her out to a nice restaurant, too.)

I made the long trip and checked into a motel. I knew I'd be drinking, and I hoped she would be, too. (Ok, not for the reason you're thinking.) I was simply hoping that alcohol would free up her lips. (Ah, that didn't sound any better.)

When she showed up at the restaurant I was a little taken back. She was wearing a cleavage-spilling red dress. Scanning upwards from there, I saw her face and hair were done up perfectly. (This was gonna be harder than I thought.)

After a couple of cocktails, a nice meal, and a bottle of wine, I let her know why I was really there...sort of.

I showed her an old picture of the bald guard and told her I was doing an investigation on him -- a white lie, more or less. She was more than a little upset, and I had to grab her wrist to stop her from leaving. I guess she thought she was on a date, and, I must say, up to that point things were going well, too. I probably should have used that motel room and forgot all about the journal, but I was consumed.

It took some sweet talk and the offer of another bottle of wine to get her to stay. After a few minutes, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pressed the record button on my little tape recorder. From my other pocket I pulled out a copy of the journal and handed it to her. She glanced at it and quickly confirmed my suspicions by denying she'd written it. Then she read it over a couple of times. She laughed, at first, at the switching of the names.

But, later on, she crumpled up the papers and spat, "that little bitch!" (And that's why I brought along a copy this time.)

"I even donated to her husband's election fund."

At first she didn't want to talk, period. She said it was in her past, and it was behind her, but I pressed on and showed her a picture of the guard again, and, honestly, I think the alcohol was working its magic, as well.

"Ok, I'll talk, but only if it helps put this asshole away," she sneered.

"It can't hurt," I said, double-checking my recorder. "So this is the first time that you've seen the journal?"

"Yeah."

"And she didn't tell you...."

"No, she didn't," she interrupted. "And it looks like she was trying to pin it on me."

"Yeah, it looked that way to me, too."

"Yeah, she always blamed me for...you know."

"Stealing that mascot."

"Yeah, it was a harmless prank."

"And then it died," I said, with an uncontrolled laugh. And then she flashed me a lethal look. "Anyway, moving on, did the story really unfold like that?"

"Like what?"

"I mean, was the journal accurate, except for the names thing?"

"I guess," she said, flipping through the crumpled papers. "Look, do we really need to go over all this?"

"It's important," I assured her. "Now did they really search you like that?"

She checked the account again. "Yeah, in the gym, like that...all of us...it was as embarrassing as she said it was."

"And then the showers?"

"Uh huh."

"And then the physicals?"

"Right..., if that's what you want to call them."

"Did they happen like that?"

She flipped through the pages until she got to what I assumed was the appropriate part. "Yeah, I almost forgot about that homeless guy. She also seemed to remember what people said, word for word."

"But everything that the journal says happened to Wendy actually happened to you?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "Seems that way."

"So you actually got the enema?" I said, without thinking. I had to grab her wrist again to stop her getaway. It took some apologizing to get her back in her seat, and I quickly switched gears.

"Do you know why the journal stopped so abruptly?"

She shook her head several times, but it looked insincere. So I pressed on and asked her again.

"Look buddy...you come down here, wine and dine me, and then bring up all this shit that I've struggled to forget."

"But do you know why?" I asked several times. It was so close I could taste it. Although, I felt a little bad for the small tear that rolled down her cheek.




Boot Camp Blues



"Alright, I'll tell yah, and then I'm out of here, and don't forget the money for the sitter," she said, wiping her face. I put some cash on the table and she continued.

"Ok, I'm pretty sure I know why they stopped," she said, as she crumpled up the papers again. "There was a little incident between her and the blonde."

"Incident?"

"Yeah, even though we were good friends back then, she always made me feel a little uneasy. Lets just say I think she liked showering with the other girls more than she should have, even though she always had a boyfriend, if you know what I mean?"

I nodded. She had nailed my attention at "showering with the other girls."

"Well, I remember that her and the sexy blonde seemed to bond really quickly. And their bunks were only a foot or two apart. I think you can see where this is going."

I did, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. "I'm confused," I said, scrunching my face, while trying not to chuckle.

"Ok, you're not the smartest cop in the world, are you?"

"I'm no Francis Poncherello," I said, with a fake laugh. (Ponch, was the good looking guy from the TV show, CHiPs.)

"Anyways," she groaned and went back to shuffling the papers.

"We had to wear these old pull-over shirts to bed, but they were sized for grade schoolers. Well, one night, I think it was like a week into the camp, I was awakened by the lights being turned on and the bald guy's screaming. When I cleared my eyes I saw that the blonde and Wendy were in the same cot, and Wendy was scrambling to put her shirt on, but the bald guy yanked it away from her. The female guard was also there, and when she pulled the blonde off the cot, I saw that her panties were wrapped around her ankles. Even though I was still groggy, I could put two and two together."

She looked up with a wise look. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Oh yah, I think the guards slept at the school, too, 'cause they were always there. Anyways, I was surprised to see the bald guard move one of their cots to the center of the room, because I thought they were bolted down. I was also surprised to see the blonde take off her night shirt and Wendy slide off her panties, leaving them both buck naked. I thought they were in for a whipping, but they had other plans."

This time when she looked up at me, and I shrugged my shoulders, I meant it. "Who's 'they'?" I asked.

"The guards...they wanted them to...ah, perform."

"Perform?" I said a little more excitedly then I wanted.

"Yeah, it had to be Baldies idea. At first, they refused, but then they were told to pack their bags. That's the way it was at camp, either you took their punishment, or got naked when they told you too, or you left. Honestly I don't know what I would have done at that point. The female guard even made the rest of us gather around their cot. It was tough to watch."

"What did they do?"

"Fucking pig," she hissed. Funny, if I had a nickel for every time someone called me that.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I meant did they actually do it...ah, do each other?"

She just nodded her head, while she looked at me with disgust. "What do you wanna hear...all the perverted details? How they sucked on each others breasts and then got into a side-by-side sixty nine and ate each other out...all while we watched. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

(A silly little song about a dog named bingo suddenly filled my head.)

"Well, Wendy left with the two guards, and Blondie moved her cot back. When I woke up the next morning, there was another girl sleeping in Wendy's cot. They separated the two of them, and that's why it stopped.

"And she couldn't get back to retrieve the journal?"

"No, apparently not," she said, rather tartly. "The other group was on the other side of the school. We never even saw them, or worked with them. So for the next week, I never saw Wendy at all. And it took years to renew our friendship."

"And you knew nothing of the journal?"

"I said I didn't!" she snapped. But after a four or five seconds she added, "Look, I knew she was writing something, and late one night I thought I even saw her hide something behind my locker, but I never knew what it was until you showed up here tonight with these pages, 'cause I never looked."

"Did anything ever happen to you?"

"Nothing like that. I kept my nose clean, and I didn't play Baldie's games."

"Games?"

"Yeah, you know, it was in the summer, it was hot, and it was hard work. So he let us know that if we wanted a day off, come see him in his air conditioned office. He wasn't too subtle. And I never did, so don't ask."

"And did Wendy?"

"Well one day it was real hot, and I noticed Blondie wasn't around. It was actually the day of the big scene. I remember teasing Wendy about her not being there, and I remember how mad she got. At the time I thought it was 'cause she hated Baldie so much. Although Baldie seemed to have a thing for her."

"Do you think it was a set up?"

"Welcome to the party.... Yeah, to this day I think Blondie set her up. I mean, after that night Blondie never went out on work detail again, and Baldie finally got Wendy into his office."

"Are you sure?"

She just nodded her head, then paused and frowned. "Oh my god! This isn't about Baldie at all...or even me. No, this is about Wendy."

"What?" I blinked, a little confused.

"Yeah, you know the truth about her son and what it might do...."

"Unh," I shrugged. This was the first I'd heard about a son.

"To the election.... I get it, someone paid you to dig up some dirt...or maybe you're planning to do some blackmailing. Yeah, you know she'd do just about anything to make sure no one ever found out about this shit."

Heather stood up, ripped the papers into pieces (another reason for the copies), tossed them into my face, and stormed off. (She grabbed the sitter money.)

I brooded for a couple of minutes, but was then interrupted by the pretty little waitress bringing the check over. I made some small talk with her before mentioning that I was staying at a local motel, with a wink. Smooth, eh? She answered by tossing a glass of water in my face. It was pretty daring, 'cause it could've gotten her fired. But it was a small glass, and all the ice had melted, and it was kind of refreshing....

But I left her a nickel tip.

Back at my motel room, I made a phone call. It seems like Heather had been right about Wendy's having a son. I overlooked him because he was now an 18-year-old college freshman, who had been raised by his grandmother, and who still used his mother's maiden name. I had his date of birth, and the math was easy. He was born in May the year after Wendy went to boot camp. Yep, about nine months later. I also figured Heather was probably right about Wendy being willing to do anything to keep this from getting out, especially now.

On the drive back to Vermont my mind was a-buzz with possibilities. But I'm not really a blackmailer, and her husband was friendly enough with my father (the sheriff) to know he should stay out of our business. So he had my vote.

But after all I went through to dig up the information, it was really tough to do nothing with it..., and now Wendy seemed like such an obnoxious bitch. I even found out that her husband was favored to win the election.

So I think I'll sit on the journal and my Heather tape a little while longer.

I mean -- I've never strip-searched a governor's wife...yet.

The End 

Thanks for reading my story Please send me your comments and Please Vote.



Boot Camp Heaven



"Five minutes to shower!" Is all I heard as we ran upstairs all sweaty and worn out. The thought of one more week was my only comfort. We all began to tear out of our battle dress uniforms and rush for the showers. As usual I could not find my soap, you would think that my locker was clean but that's another story. When I got to the showers they were full. "Two and a half minutes to go!" A girl giggled and yelled. 

At that point I was pissed, I had been running all day, had to eat in the field and had been waiting and waiting to get a good shower. "Fuck this shit, I'm not going! I am staying to wash my ass!" I said rather loudly as I stormed out. No one seemed to believe me. I sat in the stall with a book until the showers were all off and it was silent. Shortly after that I could hear them marching off down the street. I smiled at myself, marveling at the fact that I had gotten away with it. 

Around the time I knew everyone was gone I boldly gathered my things and headed for the showers. The hot water was almost gone but it was so hot outside it didn't really matter. Leaning against the shower wall the water ran down my face, my stomach and down between my legs. The silence was so soothing I began to rub the bar of soap all over my body and wish that I were back home. 

I missed my man and making love was at the top of the list of things to do when I got back home. Now I would just have to settle for my hand. I was thinking about my man so deeply that by the time I realized it I was grinding against my hand, feeling a wetness that wasn't from the shower. I could feel myself sliding down to the floor as I neared climax, my legs began to quiver and I could feel the tingle permeate my body. I lay in the aftermath and decided it was time to go get dressed. I dried off and headed to my room in my towel and flip-flops. 

When I got there what I saw could have made my heart stop. The lieutenant was standing beside my locker. As soon as I saw her I froze and instinctively went to salute her. As I did so my towel fell and as I went to catch it she would not allow it. "STAND AT ATTENTION!" She said loud and firm. I have had my eye on you since you first got here, Private. At ease soldier." And at that I bent down to get my towel. "DONT MOVE SOLDIER, I said at ease, nothing more and nothing less."

I stood there in amazement not knowing what to think. I was scared as hell, not knowing what the punishment would be or how severe. She walked up and circled me as if to dare me to move an inch and then she started to laugh. Now I'm thinking, what the hell is so funny but before I could begin to even think about saying anything she began to talk. . . 

"You know our policy soldier? Don't ask don't tell? We're going to practice that today-you don't ask and I won't tell, ok? By this time I'm thinking, what the fuck?! But all I can manage to say is "yes ma'am". 

The anticipation is building, wondering what she has in mind with this smirk of her face. "GET ON YOUR KNEES!" She said it so loud I dropped to the floor with no hesitation. She then forcibly pulled my head back by my hair and forced her tongue down my throat. My struggles were to no avail and I gave in. I could not believe I was in this situation doing this with this woman, of all people! All these thoughts are running through my mind and by the time I realize it she is at my level, on her knees. I'm wondering what will happen next, even though I feel like I already know. 

I find myself embarrassed by the things I feel with no way to hide them as the juices run down my legs. I find myself throbbing as I do every night laying in that bunk by myself, this time with an intensity that is unknown. She demands that I take off her clothes and I am more than ready. She is much more feminine than I could ever imagine, her body looked like that of a voluptuous super-model and I found myself longing for her. I waited for my next command, afraid to do anything I wasn't told. She smiled as she noticed the glistening on my thigh and began to kiss me. 

Before I knew it we were on the floor and I was laying on top of her grinding myself against her. The tingling was so intense, I felt as if I could not grind hard enough and before I knew it I was having an orgasm and shaking all over her. 

After the "after-shocks" she flipped me over and began to suck on my nipples and rub my clit, softly at first, and got more intense. I felt my intensities grow with hers and again I began to quiver, this one longer than the first. Before I could recover her mouth had moved down between my legs and I could not help but push her head even closer. Her hands wrapped around my thighs and I had never been eaten like that before. I thought that I would loose my mind after I cam a third time she left the room as I lay there exhausted. My legs were quivering and I was attempting to get up when she came back in the room. 

"Who told you to move! Turn around and lay on your stomach now!" At this point I did not care what she did to me as long as it felt good. She has this huge, nine-inch looking strap-on and at that time she could have put it anywhere. She lay on my back and began to kiss my neck and shoulders. I began to push myself against her and I could feel the strap-on at my opening and it began to lubricate itself. I tried to move around to make it slide in but she refused to let it go in. She wanted me to suffer. Without warning she thrust deep inside me and I screamed out. We were pounding against each other and I could faintly hear her moan. She turn me around and had me to sit on top of her. 

I did as I was told and with little to no hesitation and climbed on her lap. As I began to get a steady rock she pulled my head toward her and kissed my lips and then on down my neck and chest to my nipples. She began to gently lick around my nipples and suck them as she gripped my ass and rocked me harder. I got louder and louder in her ear and she began to move against me and, finally, she came. 

Looking a her at that moment she was no longer that hard ass woman who was unable to let any feeling show. She was this intimate and very sexual being who was deserving of al the pleasure in the world and I loved her for the pleasure she had given to me. As you can imagine, I never got in trouble for ditching the battalion. Now I make it a point to be late or not appear so that I can get what's coming to me.



Boot Camp Training



Run, Sweat, Push-ups...the past three weeks had consisted of those three words. Every day, every hour, every second, the mind was consumed by these three "tasks". The men of Alpha company, if they weren't running, sweating or doing push-ups, they were thinking about it, and usually within a few minutes they'd be partaking in it. Alpha Company was a part of the marines training company, in charge of turning boys into men. Unfortunately for the recruits, Alpha Company also was infamous for one instructor, Redlask.

Recruit Potter, was physically in shape, and breezed through the five am PT (physical training) sessions. However the memorization, the little sleep, the regulation, all of it got had gotten to him by week three:

"POTTER! Recite your general orders!" Redlask spat in his face, using a deep tone that bore into his soul.

"SIR, um, First general order is, um...." Potter meekly answered, awaiting the barrage that was sure to follow the stutter. 

He knew he could recite the orders by heart, in fact he had memorized them by the beginning of week one, however Redlask always made him stumble all over himself. Redlask with his chiseled chin, the nose straight off a Grecian statue, rich brown eyes, and then the amazing ass which showed through the sharp standard green drill instructor pants. The smokey-the-bear hat over-shadowed his face, until he lifted it right in front of you, bringing his usual full fury with it. It was especially difficult in the mornings, standing at attention in his white briefs. Potter feared the day when Redlask would pick him for the morning burn. The dual morning wood and Redlask's intense voice made Potter on numerous occasions feel the bulge beginning to grow.

"That's it Potter! Tonight, fire duty! Two shifts! I'll make sure you use the extra time to learn your general orders," Redlask yelled, somehow louder than the first time.

"SIR yes Sir," Potter could only reply.

Fire duty was one of Redlask's favorite punishments, that and the Pit. Potter had felt the burn of both. Fire duty was dull, boring, and often impossible to accomplish with dozing off. Someone had to sit up at 2 o'clock am, losing precious sleep while just watching the others contently sleeping. The next day always dragged on as it became even harder to stay awake and alert. 

The Pit however may be a worse punishment. An hour or two of intense physical training in a seven by seven wood box filled with sand. The sand made the 'high knees' feel like a marathon and sets of push ups like being in a strong man competition. In the Pit time seemed to slow down, as minutes dragged on while the beads of sweat drenched the back of your shirt and soaked your balls. All this while having a drill instructor, usually Redlask, breathing down your throat, pushing you harder.

Potter was confused as to why Redlask had decided fire duty to be the more appropriate punishment. The last time Potter screwed up it had been a combination of the Pit and fire duty making the next day physically taxing from the sore muscles and lack of sleep. It was also new for Redlask to assign two shifts, meaning even less sleep. Potter knew tomorrow would not good smoothly, even as his dick got hard with the thought of Redlask.

That night Potter woke up with Redlask looming over him. As Potter's eyes adjusted to the low light Redlask's dark outline approached his ears. 

"Get ready recruit, you're going to become my bitch tonight", said Redlask in his husky voice.

He immediately became hard, but before he could get up Redlask grabbed his shirt and his hard cock. Squeezing hard on Potter's dick Redlask lifted him out of his rack, and pressed a pre-cut piece of ducktape over Potter's mouth. In surprise Potter tried to struggle, a poor decision. As soon as Potter's arms made a move to flail Redlask's fist came into his stomach, making Potter double over and moan into the ducktape. As he struggled to get up Redlask gave his cock another squeeze, this time aiming for the balls, brutally grasping and not letting go until Potter fell again to his knees.

Potter was in shock. It was embarrassing having a hard on with his drill instructor but then having Redlask notice by clenching his balls, it made Potter become afraid. Redlask remained silent throughout the whole encounter and his facial expressions were unreadable, molded into that stone cold glare. Potter's thoughts spun from fear that Redlask would out him to the entire company.

Yet, before Potter could think more about it or even catch his breath Redlask was dragging him outside. His breath became ragged as he breathed through his nose, struggling for the air that disappeared due to his rude awakening. He finally got his bearings and realized Redlask was dragging him to the Pit. The moment that realization came his body was shoved into the sandy area, and he tripped over the wood planks outlining the box. Falling face first into the sand Potter struggled to get back up. And then a boot pressed down burying his face in the sand.

"Get ready for hell recruit"