3 comments/  66851 views/  17 favorites

Breaking Article 134 Ch. 01

By: KillerMuffin



"Wright! What the fuck are you still doing here?" One would think that I'd have gotten used to that coming up from behind and yelling trick. NCO or not, sometimes he really worked my last nerve.

"Working Sarn't." I shoved a doodle paper under a stack of inventory. "Surely you've seen work before?"

"Don't push it private. Get outta here. See ya tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Sarn't."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." His Puerto Rican Brooklyn accent made that sound more ominous that it actually was. I perked up with false brightness.

"Finally! I get a day off." I flashed him a huge smile, he gave me a look of fake irritation.

"Foggettaboudit." He crossed his arms over his huge chest and laughed. "I do."

"Thursday night, you, me, the Auto Crafts shop. We still on? You promised to help me put in the 205. You're my only hope Sarn't, I don't know anyone else strong enough or smart enough."

He laughed at me, detaching himself from the door frame. "I'm married, you little hussy. Yeah, Thursday night. After that you're doin' all the little PM shit to my cars 'til I PCS."

"Yes, Sarn't." Changing oil and doing tuneups until he did a permanent change of station. Ugh. The 205 was worth it. I hoped.

Mendez abruptly snapped to attention. A moment later I heard footsteps on the uncarpeted steps leading to the dank storage room I optimistically called my office. I leaped to my feet and snapped to attention as well. 

"As you were," the officer said loudly enough for me to hear it. Oh shit, I forgot the major's--

"Hello, sir, what can I help ya with?" Sergeant Mendez asked politely.

"Sent a note for some resupply, never got it." Oh hell. A chill ran along my spine and the flesh of my arms erupted into goose bumps.

"Wright, you get a note from the major 'bout some supplies?" Mendez demanded, stepping fully into my office. The major followed him.

Lie, Wright, lie. "Yes, sergeant." Dammit.

"What's going on down here, sergeant?" The major looked from the sergeant to my face and held his eyes there. I tried to keep from fidgeting.

"Sir?" Mendez shifted his weight.

I wanted to twitch myself, but didn't. The major's eyes never left me; his scrutiny was making me nervous and jumpy. I felt I should be at attention, but he'd released us from it already. Wisely enough, I kept my mouth shut.

"Wright is it?"

"Yessir."

"Why did the sergeant find it necessary to remind you that he was married?" The major had to sound smug when he said it, too. That made me angry. Son of a bitch, did he think I was some sort of man thief?

"Because I expressed the opinion that the sergeant was the only person I knew who was strong enough and smart enough to help me put my 205 in, sir."

"A 205?"

"A 205 is a-"

"I want to hear this from the private."

"Yessir."

"A New Process 205. It is a gear driven transfer case which is superior to the 208 which I currently have--a chain driven transfer case. Chains slip and cause the transfer case to slip out of four by. I get a better grip with the gears on the 205." I paused, waiting until just shy of disrespect. "Sir."

Mendez cut me a look that was meant to kill my attitude before it got started. The major frowned at me, our eyes meeting for the first time, ever. It was obvious that the major really didn't know what I was talking about. It was just as obvious that he didn't like it. I lifted my chin a notch and inwardly treated myself to a smug little smile. After a few moments of silence the major finally said, "Very well. Be careful what you say, you never know how it'll be heard."

"Yessir," I echoed along with Sergeant Mendez.

"I want a word with Wright, sergeant."

"Okay, see you on Wednesday, sir," Mendez said. He glared at me one last time for good measure, an oblique warning to behave. As if I would ever say or do anything wrong. I gave him my most innocent, wide-eyed look. He rolled his eyes and left.

"I'm going to let you off with a warning this time, private. I may not have known what you were talking about, but I sure as hell know what you were doing. Don't do it again." The major's words came fast and furious, his voice was deep and harsh.

"Yes, sir." Sir or not, there was no way I was backing down. My words and tone would agree with him, but physically I was stiff as a board, my eyes locked on the wall behind him. I hoped to hell that he couldn't read me; the major was famous for his ability to chew ass.

He invaded my personal space. He stepped up to me at my desk, his body less than a foot from mine, until it was either glare at his chest or look up at him. I purely hated it when men did that to me, used their greater size to try to intimidate me into doing something. Never one to be cowed, I looked up at him. That was a mistake; if anything, his expression goaded me further. Even an idiot could tell that he found me amusing.

"Was there something else you wanted, sir?" I kept my voice carefully neutral.

"This bugs you doesn't it, private?" He even had the gall to sound amused.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Denied, it was a rhetorical question."

"Yessir." My anger tasted like bile.

He slapped something that sounded like paper on my desk. The motion stirred the air, giving me a good whiff of his cologne and the muskier scent of his skin. "That's a list of resupply for my office. Deliver it first thing after formation tomorrow."

"Yessir."

"Try to behave."

"Yessir." My impulse was to double up my fist and slam it into his smirking jaw. I managed to stop myself. Barely.

"Good. Have a good evening, private."

"You too, sir." 

Pivoting sharply, he left my office, whistling. He'd gotten the better of me and that pissed me off even more. I would be damned if he'd ever do it again. 

I left my desk a mess, something I ordinarily don't do, and charged through the door. I wanted to get to the PX, post exchange, and buy a few things before it got too crowded. Buying something always made me feel better. Stupid really, but there it was. I picked up one of those little red baskets, dropped my headgear into it, and stomped through the store to find the perfect panacea to make myself feel better.

I'd managed to lose the crankiness somewhere between the automotive and lingerie departments. I picked up a pair of jeans, some undies, a couple of quarts of synthetic motor oil, and a new bottle of wine. I was sniffing on some perfume when I felt the heat of a body behind me. I stiffened, knowing who it was before the scent of his cologne reached my nostrils. 

"Private Wright."

"Hello, sir." Back came the sour mood.

He squatted down next to my basket, the heavily starched fabric of his BDU trousers delineated every plane of the muscles in his thighs. I shut my eyes for a moment, imagining those same camouflage trousers curving faithfully to his ass. Now if he'd just take off the BDU blouse and the thin brown tee shirt beneath it. "Wine? Old enough to drink?"

"No, sir. I just like to carry it around the store and pretend," I snapped before I could stop myself. Brain goes into gear before the mouth does, Wright. He chose to ignore my sarcasm.

"I never pictured you as the white cotton type, Wright." He moved the package of panties out of the way and picked up the wine. I narrowed my eyes. "Let me see your ID card."

"This can't be legal," I muttered under my breath. Instead of arguing, I passed my ID card to him, the one with the horrible picture of me sweating in my PT gear. I would check with someone later, JAG maybe, about what he was doing. But, right now I had a very nice shot down the front of his BDU blouse to the soft brown tee shirt that hugged his chest. What was I thinking? I couldn't do this. I snapped my head around, staring blindly at the perfume display.

The next thing I knew the vee of his chest was in my face. He held my ID card under my nose by two fingers. "Still with me, private?"

"Yessir." I snatched my ID card and stuffed it into my pocket. He stood over me for a few more relentless breaths. The smell of his skin invaded my lungs. Had he been someone else and had we been somewhere else, I would have leaned in and licked him. The urge to do just that was so strong I started to move forward. I caught myself in time, my eyes darting to the side. I wondered if he'd noticed.

"Carry on, private," he said finally, the sauntered away. Well, inasmuch as a man like that could saunter. 

Bright and early, in my freshly starched BDU's, I carried the box of requested supplies to the major's office. I stuck my head through the door to the open bay where most of my chain of command did their work, and sighed in relief. It was deserted. The major's door stood open, the lights were off. I took a deep breath. Okay, Wright, dash in, deposit supplies, dash back out. That was the plan. 

"Private Wright, weren't you taught to knock in basic training?"

So much for the plan. I cringed, skidding to a halt. "I was unaware that your office was occupied, sir." I did an about face, coming to attention. He bent over his desk in the dark, regarding me silently. "I apologize, sir, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't." He leaned back in his chair, making it squeak. I jerked. "Left face."

What the hell for? I wanted to yell. Instead, I pivoted and faced left. I could feel his eyes on me, burning holes in my uniform. I could almost feel the fabric scorching.

"About face."

I about faced, wondering what in the hell he was doing. I stood at attention, staring at the mini-blinds on the window. It was still dark outside and no noise came from the open offices beyond his door. The sounds of my breathing matched his, exaggerated to my ears.

"Left face." He stood up. "I like to see my soldiers taking pride in their uniforms. Keep it up. Dismissed."

If I could have kept my military bearing and done so, I would have run like hell. I'd been stared at before, but never like that. Never with eyes that seemed to reach out and physically touch me. My overactive imagination was running away with me. I had to stay away from the major before I did something incredibly stupid.

The Auto Crafts Shop was pretty much deserted Thursday night. I racked the truck while Mendez fetched the transmission jack from the clerk. After arranging the tools to do the work, Sergeant Mendez and I began the nasty chore of wrestling the 205 onto the transmission jack.

"What is that thing?" 

I jumped, landing flat on my butt, my head knocking into a pair of solid thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, hoping he would go away. He didn't.

"Hello, sir." I slowly pulled myself away from him, then to my feet. Did I sound sulky? I sounded sulky.

"You need to cut your caffeine intake, Wright," Mendez observed. I shot him a glare, he looked like he was enjoying this.

"What's going on here?" the major asked.

"We're stickin' this transfer case into Wright's truck, sir." Mendez glared back at me. "A little help here, Wright, I'm not holdin' this thing all night."

I scrambled back to help lever it onto the jack, taking the precarious balance of weight from Mendez. A pair of arms wrapped around me and the major's hands reached to help steady the weight, then place it on the jack. "You are in the way, private," he informed me. I shut my eyes for a moment, savoring the major's almost intimate embrace. I know he was only helping us out, but that didn't stop me from wanting to rub my body against him and beg to be petted. Mendez considered us for a moment, eyes narrowed. Suddenly I resented both of them. The major for giving me a taste of what I could never have and Mendez for spoiling it. Irrationally, I wanted them both gone.

"I don't need your help, sir." 

"Don't take that tone with me, private."

"Sorry, sir." I glared at Mendez some more, daring him to jump to the wrong conclusion. I didn't know what the major was up to, but it certainly wasn't what was going through Mendez's beady little eyes. The hands pulled away from the greasy transfer case and the arms pulled away from me. I felt the chill along my back, suddenly bereft of the major's heat. More than anything, I wanted him to press against me again. Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept myself from blurting something irretrievably stupid.

"This is the transfer case, sir. It regulates whether or not the truck is in 2 wheel drive or 4 wheel drive," Mendez supplied into the silence. "Private, go take a powder."

"I don't powder my nose, sergeant." I looked from Mendez to the major, unsure of what to do. The undercurrents passing between the two men were making me nervous, and that horrible I-should-be-at-attention feeling was growing stronger.

"Get!"

I got. I went outside, circled around to the open bay door next to the one my truck was in and eavesdropped.

"-know what the hell you're doing, sir." Mendez was bucking for trouble.

"Don't take that tone with me, sergeant."

"Wright is good people, sir. Don't fuck with her like that, she acts tough but she's naive as hell. She don't need your brand of trouble." Mendez's tone shocked me, then I gasped, highly insulted. Naive!

"I have heard enough, sergeant."

"I know what you're doing, major," Mendez snapped. "I won't see her hurt by the likes of you."

"That's enough, sergeant!" Then the major belted out a long low string of something I couldn't hear that kept turning Mendez's face redder.

"Yes, sir!" Mendez eventually growled loudly enough to echo through the bays. The major abruptly pivoted. I ducked back out before he could see me and pretended a great deal of interest in the trees across the parking lot.

"What did you overhear, private?" The major came up behind me and halted so close that I could almost feel the blood throbbing through his body. I spun around to face him, backing a few steps.

"I didn't hear a thing, sir." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared mulishly at him. He considered my expression, then the area above my crossed arms for a few moments.

"Carry on, private," he finally said, then headed across the parking lot to a row of parked cars. Frustrated for some reason I didn't understand, I watched him climb into a Porsche.

"I'm not doing this by myself, Wright!" Mendez bellowed. I could feel the major's eyes boring into me through a windshield that reflected the sky. Suddenly nervous, I bolted for the safety of the Auto Crafts Shop. Mendez watched me approach, the same concerned look in his eyes that my father always had whenever I climbed into Gregory Hansen's pretty blue chevy truck. Thankfully, he didn't say anything. I really didn't want to hear it.

It took a lot of cursing and sweaty work to get the transfer case tucked up into place, the brand new u-joints hooked to it, and the dirty drive shafts– one heading to the front differential and one heading to the rear– settled in. Finally, hours later, it was done. Mendez lapsed into a brooding silence while we wiped the tools and cleaned up.

"Wright." Great, here it comes. Once again the eerie similarity to my father kicked in. This time it was the sorrowful hangdog expression that came with my too short prom dress. "You watch out for the major. He has something of a reputation. He was kicked out of his last bat for fuckin' around with a female sergeant. Got sent here."

"I'm sure the major has no interest in me, sarn't." I considered the times I'd run into the major in the past few days. Nah. Had to be coincidence, this was a small post after all.

"You just be careful Wright."

"I will, sarn't, I can take care of myself."

Less than 24 hours later, I wasn't so sure. Friday afternoon PT was usually without a run, just the usual front leaning rest position, in cadence... EXERCISE! Hun, hoo, hree, hun! And its friends sit-ups, flutter kicks, and other cleverly devised methods of human torture. So Fridays at noon, I ran.

It was a comfortable run, just me, the dirt trail, and the trees. It was almost a weekly requirement for me, a way to unwind from the stress that had piled up for the past five days and just be free. Most of the people who knew me thought I was psychotic because I enjoyed running. Soldiers have to run all of the time, why anyone would run voluntarily, let alone love doing it, was beyond them. I just lost myself in the feelings of my blood moving warmly through my body, the stretching and flowing of my muscles as they propelled me down the trail, the steady regulation of my breathing, the sensations of the clean, earthy air pulling through my lungs, and soft crunch of my footsteps on the dirt.

"Private Wright." The major's voice intruded suddenly. I leaped forward, my upper body outrunning my feet, which instantly couldn't figure out how to run and tangled with each other. I hit the dirt with an ignominious oof. Too add to my confusion I was swept up into the air moments later and set gently on my feet. I staggered, confused about which way was up for a heartbeat of time.

"Hello, sir." I pressed my palm to my forehead and silently demanded to know why me? Might as well get it over with, I figured, and looked at him. My first thought was that he was naked. The major was naked and I almost lost my balance again. A shake of my head and a second look proved that to be wrong, he was wearing a tiny pair of nylon runner's shorts in an olive drab green color. I recognized the cut, half of a hijacked marine PT uniform.

"You okay, private?"

"I'm fine sir." Okay Wright, eyes off the major. Okay, anytime now, Wright. Now Wright. I wasn't listening to myself. I couldn't take my eyes off of his chest, full of hard, muscular planes tapering into abdominal ridges. His skin was sheened with sweat, which only emphasized the utter masculine beauty of his nakedness. There was that word again, naked. The major. Naked and sweaty. I had to get out of there. "See you later, sir."

"Wait one, private. You took a nasty fall, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, sir." Was I squeaking? I sounded like I was squeaking. He eyed me as if he weren't so sure.

"I'll pace you, make sure you're okay."

Great, a pissing contest in the making. I didn't have much for top end speed, but I could go for a long time and at a decent clip. After the first couple of miles most guys couldn't keep up. I briefly considered pretending to be hurt, so I could go to sick call and get away from his naked chest. I just didn't think I would get away with it, I wasn't a very good liar. Reluctantly, I turned down the trail again. "Okay, sir."

It surprised me that he ran in silence. It had always been my experience that running partners get chatty, and I hate to run and talk at the same time. Running is an introspective activity, I preferred to let my thoughts roam while doing it. Not that my thoughts went much farther than the naked chest I couldn't keep from staring at out of the corner of my eye. He matched my stride easily enough, running in time. Irreverently, I recalled a cadence from basic...

Mama and papa were lyin' in bed Mama turned to papa and this is what she said PT Good for you Good for me Gimme some...

The sexual innuendo smacked me in the face, hard. In my mind's eye a fantasy developed that was so real that I almost reached for him. He turned to me and wrapped himself around me, his mouth and tongue plundering me, my fingers yanking the shorts down...


"PRIVATE!" His voice lashed out at me, catching me completely by surprise. I jumped again, this time only staggering several steps before I caught myself. I wheeled on him.

"What?" I bellowed, the remembered who I was bellowing at. I hoped the conciliatory was enough. "Sir?"

"We're back at the gym. Are you sure you didn't hit your head? I've been trying to get your attention."

"I'm sure, sir, I just think too hard sometimes, sir."

"All the same, I want you to report to sick call, then report to me in my office. I'll notify Sergeant Mendez."


Breaking Article 134 Ch. 02



The leather coat was sprawled where I'd tossed it on my bed. I squirted some perfume on my upper thighs and considered the coat. Hot memories of my sexually charged fantasy licked through me, making my nipples stand straight up. I had a feeling I'd wind up comparing Bradford to the major all night. At least I'd be horny, I thought, staring at my breasts and the obviously erect nipples topping them. Even though it was much too warm for it, I shrugged into the coat and went downstairs to wait for Bradford.

I made an effort, I honestly did, not to see the major everywhere I went. The preoccupation I was developing for the man was really starting to drive me crazy. At first I thought I'd seen him in the parking lot, then at the movie theater buying popcorn. I cuddled up against Bradford, less interested in the warm body my cheek was pressed against than the identity of the man sitting behind us with the familiar voice. Was it the major? Nah, most likely my imagination. I half giggled at myself, how stupid could a private get? A major, following me? Oh, that was funny.

After the movie we dithered around downtown for a while, drinking coffee and walking around. Bradford was getting more familiar with me, touching my breast, kissing my neck, things like that. The leather coat wrapped around me, holding me in a warm embrace that was linked in my mind with another man; black leather and white lace. I shut my eyes as we moved down the sidewalk, Bradford's hands on my skirt, the major's hands in my mind.

Bradford must have sensed the undercurrent of sex raging through me, or he just wanted to try his luck. In either case, he tugged me into a darkened doorway and took my mouth in a long, ravaging kiss. I groaned, tilted my head up, and licked him back, rubbing my fully aroused body back and forth against him, catlike. I needed to be fucked so badly, and the major was just the man to do it.

His hands slid down my sides to my thighs, pulling my tiny plaid skirt up. I groaned again, a long drawn out sound, when his fingers touched my panties, then moved them aside and slipped into my wet pussy. I arched my body into that touch and sucked on his tongue. Vaguely, I heard the sound of a zipper rasping, then two firm hands on my buttocks, lifting me up and pushing me against the cool glass of the display window behind me. His lips wrapped around mine, muffling the panting cries that were already bubbling up from me. Something hard and warm touched my thigh, then pushed at the entrance to my body.

I wanted to scream, but his kiss prevented it. The major pushed, just a little bit, and slipped inside, just a little bit. He froze suddenly, leaning firmly against me. "Shhhh. Someone's here."

My eyes flew open and the realization that I'd nearly gotten fucked a few feet away from a busy sidewalk by Bradford smacked me in the face. I suddenly felt nauseous. It wasn't the major partially wedged in my cunt, it was Bradford. The bad part of it was that we had gotten caught with our pants down. I shoved my legs down, breaking his grip on my fanny. He yelped when his prick was jerked out. "I'm sorry," I hissed, hoping that whoever was standing a few feet from us wouldn't hear.

"It's okay. Just warn me next time," he hissed back. "You mind dude? You're crampin' my style here."

"Sorry, man."

"Oh fuck," I mumbled, burying my face in Bradford's chest. I prayed to every single deity I could think of-

"Wright? Is that you?"

"No, sir," I lied. Beneath my cheek Bradford's chest muscles spasmed and went rigid.

"Wright, get out here."

"Sir?" Bradford squeaked, then more normally, "sir?"

With one hand I tugged my skirt back into place. "This is Ma-"

"I want a word with you, private." The major sounded pissed. I tugged at my skirt again, wishing I could reach into it and rearrange my panties. They were bunched uncomfortably on one side of my pussy, which was leaking juice all over my thighs. I could smell myself. Maybe he wouldn't notice. "Now."

"Uh..." Bradford said, trying to think of something to stall with. 

"Right now." Diplomatically, I stepped around the fumbling Bradford and onto the sidewalk. It was better to get my ass chewed in public than have Bradford's cock verify the major's suspicions. "Sir?"

"Private Wright." He was pissed. I had a clear shot of his face, it was scowling and turning red. "You were fucking him."

"Nossir!" I immediately denied. Not exactly, Bradford had barely gotten his penis inside before we'd been interrupted. His expression blackened. I gritted my teeth to resist the urge to come to attention.

"Don't lie to me, private."

I found some backbone deep inside and glared up at him. "I am not lying, sir."

"I could see the man's penis and I could see your pussy."

I crossed my arms. "Penetration, no matter how slight, is enough to complete the offense," I quoted from the Uniform Code of Military Justice. "I was not penetrated. Therefore I was not fucking him. And quite frankly, sir, I don't see how it's any of your business who I fuck."

"When it's in a public place it is my business. I could have you brought up on charges."

"Prove it, sir," I challenged him. This man was not going to get the better of me. I had no idea how we had gotten into this contest of wills, but now that I was in it, he would find that he couldn't back me down. "I will request a court-martial and you can tell the court why you were looking at my pussy."

His face reminded me of my drill instructor's face in basic training when I challenged his authority. I half expected to hear the explosive command, "DROP!" The major didn't do that, he turned to Bradford. "You, who are you?"

"Specialist Kevin Bradford, 70th Engineers, sir." I rolled my eyes, Bradford should have lied.

"Specialist, you want to keep your rank, you quit fucking my soldiers in public places. Get a room, soldier. Is that understood?"

"Yessir!"

The major rounded on me again, "Wright, my office, first thing Monday morning."

"Yessir."

The major gave me a last glare for good measure, then sauntered off. Even though I was pissed off at the man, I couldn't stop from admiring the smooth curve of his rump and the way his khaki trousers seemed to hug it. Grinning a little, I pictured how satisfying I would find it to sink me teeth as hard as I could into that butt.

"Fuck." Bradford stepped out of the darkened doorway. "My boner is gone."

"Maybe we should call it a night," I suggested. Whatever sexual interest I'd worked up in Bradford had disappeared.

"I'm sorry, Wright. You started kissin' me and all I could think about was getting inside you."

"I'll lose some ass, but I'll be okay, Bradford. If he was gonna do anything, he'da told me."

"I still feel bad." "Just take me home." I rubbed my face and sighed. "We can try this again next weekend or something."

Thankfully Jones wasn't there. I didn't want to explain why I was home before 2300 and looking so disappointed. I thought about the major's high-handedness and the remnants of my horniness. Both of them irritated the hell out of me. Just who did he think he was? It's not like either of us were in uniform. The more I dwelled on it, the angrier I got. I swore that I would never let that man get the upper hand again. He could chew my ass all he wanted Monday morning, but there was no way he'd get the better of me.

I curled myself up on my bed, imagining the major, naked and bound, in the bed of my truck. Oh the things I would do to the man. I grinned in satisfaction.

Had I known how that image would plague me all day Sunday, I never would have dreamed it up. I couldn't get the thought of having the major to myself--naked, hard, and willing to please me in every way imaginable--out of my head. I caught my fingers sliding down my belly more than once. My favorite of the Sunday fantasies was the one where I climbed under his desk and worked my wicked way on his cock with my mouth. He had to sit there and pretend everything was normal while I sucked him. A delicious little bit of torture to bestow on the man, so delicious I almost imagined the taste of his cum as he exploded in my mouth. It was just my fingers, wet from my pussy.

Monday morning, before formation, I went into his office. He was sitting at his desk, ignoring me while I stood at attention and waited to be acknowledged. He must have gotten the move from some stupid movie; he just sat there, writing noisily while I waited. The longer I stood there, the angrier I grew.

Unbidden, the thought of crawling under his desk and opening his BDU trousers one olive drab green button at a time came rushing through my mind. I clenched my thighs and ground my back teeth together.

"Private Wright." He was looking up at me. I remained braced at attention, waiting like a good little soldier. "Your conduct Saturday night was a shameful display."

The condescension in his tone twisted the fantasy in my brain, I brought his penis out and bared my teeth. In reality, he smacked some papers on his desk. "I am well within my rights to have you court-martialed, conduct unbecoming."

I kept my eyes trained on the wall above his head and my expression carefully blank. In my mind, my teeth started sinking into his hard and throbbing cock. Oh yeah, the major was going to be a glutton for punishment in my fantasies. Should he cum before I put a real hurt on his cock?

"However, I'm not going to do that. This is your only warning, Wright. Stay away from that specialist. I don't want to see you anywhere near him. If I catch you within yelling distance, I will have you brought up on charges. Is that understood?"

"Yessir."

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't dictate to a soldier how to live his or her life out of uniform. Most soldiers know how to control themselves and their sexual activities. You seem to have a problem doing that." His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. "Never in my life have I seen such a childish display from one of my soldiers. What's next Wright, a little pink dress and a lollipop?"

"Nossir."

"It was a rhetorical question," he snapped. "It's obvious that you are incapable of controlling yourself. Therefore I'm going to make sure you don't have to do it until you learn a little bit of self-discipline. Report to Sergeant Mendez after inspection for your list of extra duties. You will accomplish each of these tasks before you are released in addition to your regular duties. If I so much as see you twitch your ass at another soldier, I will extend your extra duties into next week. Is that understood Wright?"

"Yessir," I mumbled. This couldn't be legal. I was damned sure going to talk to JAG about this.

"That will be all, dismissed."

I about faced sharply and began marching out of the office. My right foot hadn't even connected with the ground when he barked out, "Halt!"

I halted.

"About face!" I about faced once again and returned to the position of attention. "At ease private."

I relaxed my stance slightly, but kept my eyes trained on the plaques behind his head. A clock ticked loudly in the silence. Beyond the confines of the major's little office the company area was beginning to come to life. I twitched nervously and resolved to hide every bit of my emotions from him. I would be the very model of military bearing and dignity. He would never know that I hated him, that I lusted after him, and that he irritated the hell out of me.

"Look at me, private." I snapped my eyes from the plaques to his face. "I know that having sex in public places is adventurous and exciting. I don't want to have to take these measures, but I have to cover my ass, and I have to cover yours. It may not seem like it, but I am not out to get you."

What was there to say to that? I couldn't think of a single thing that wouldn't get me into more trouble than I could get out of. So I waited for him to either let me go or to say something further. With nothing to look at but his face, I was once again struck stupid by his looks. His eyes were deep and intense, framed by long lashes that emphasized their strength. His nose was aquiline, leading down to a full sensuous mouth. His chiseled jaw and chin were complimented by his militarily chopped hair.

Once again, the thought of crawling under his desk flashed through my mind. This time, my teeth weren't involved, just my tongue and lips. And his cum. I had a sudden burning desire to taste him.

"That will be all Wright. Dismissed."

I fled from the office. Military bearing be damned. I made another vow to myself, after inspection I was going to avoid him as much as possible. Otherwise, I might just prove his little no self control theory and throw myself at him. How humiliating. 

I went down to my office in the dungeon, the supply room in the basement. I picked up my clipboard and stood in front of an open supply locker, pretending to work. Instead, I shut my eyes and tried to forget what it was like to be so close to the major. I hated the lack of control infatuation brings. I hated mooning over someone who would never give me, a lowly private first class, the time of day. Officers and enlisted do not mix, an ironclad rule enforced by courts-martial, jail time, and dishonorable discharges.

Most of all I hated him for it, if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have this, this crush. I hated him. I lusted after him. It was childish of me to blame him for whatever went on in my head, but it made me feel better. 

Completely frustrated with myself, I slammed the clipboard on my desk and tried to force myself to work. Mind off of the major. Work. That's what I got paid the big bucks for. Supplies had come in the day before and they required my attention. The major most certainly did not. Then there was that damned inventory list to be taken care of. Mendez needed the list yesterday, the supplies would have to wait.

It took me two more days to finish the inventory. In addition to the Supply Room, I found myself stripping and waxing the floors in the company areas, repainting the day room, and standing fire guard. With an intelligently planned out schedule strategy, judicious ducking into the female latrine, and a lot of luck, I was able to avoid the major. Several times he appeared to be ready to chase me down, but even he didn't dare breech the sanctity of the female latrine.

Well, I was almost always able to avoid him. The one time I couldn't was in the evening, when I was beginning the work on my details. I reported to the Staff Duty NCO and then began work. It never failed, the major was always there, casually chatting with whatever sergeant had the overnight watch. To make things all that much worse, he usually wore his civilian PT gear. A pair of indecently cut nylon shorts, a loose, too-large wife beater, and his running shoes. The man had a body that could make a girl salivate, and I was no exception. At least it gave me something to think about while doing the floors.

I finally finished the inventory reconciliation by Wednesday morning and started in on the supplies. I was tired from the extra duty I had been assigned to do, so I took the excuse to sit on my ass at my desk. I slapped the shipping manifest onto the desk and leaned over it. I narrowed my eyes to slits, until the words began blurring together. Half dozing, I let my mind wander where it would. It went straight to the major. What the hell, I figured, what could it hurt? It's not like he was there and it would keep me from falling asleep.

Since it was the major's fault that my body was so tired, I thought it fair that he give me a good massage. I pictured a soft bed, no make it outside, a huge quilt by a quiet river and a tree. He would be naked and his knees, waiting for me to take my clothes off and sprawl comfortably on my belly. Then his fingers would spread heated oil over my naked back, firmly but gently digging into my muscles and kneading. His erection would rub back and forth over my ass and lower back as he rocked himself into the massage. Then he would lean down and--

"Hey, Wright, I gotta go deal with finance, then to Dentac. You get them supplies put up. See ya tomorrow," Mendez bellowed, leaning into my office.

I jerked and looked up from the manifest, startled. Mendez winked at me and was gone, his footsteps echoing loudly as he took the steps two at a time. Well fuck. I pushed myself up from the desk, no time like the present to get started. Anyway, the physical labor would take my mind from the major. It's not like I'd see him naked in this lifetime anyway.

Hours later, most of the supplies had been put away. All that was left were a few full boxes to be put into a storage room. I wrestled a box that weighed twice as much as I did. The manifest claimed it was a chair, but it felt more like someone had stuck a Bradley in there, or at least a deuce and a half. Or was a deuce and a half heavier than a Bradley? A Bradley was a tank after all and the deuce and a half was only a truck. It would be easier to have sex in the truck, that was a given. But it would be more interesting to do it in a Bradley. I could almost picture the major, stripped to the waist and coming out of the Bradley, crooking his finger in invitation, a sly smile on his face. I'd never been inside a Bradley, I wondered if there was room to fuck. My mind full of the naked major, I managed to push, then pull the stupid box across the room. 

"Do you need some help?" The deep voice from behind startled me. I jumped, pushing away from the box and twisting toward the voice at the same time. I tripped over myself and landed face first at the major's spit-shined boots.

Mortification, dread, and a sudden fury ripped through me. He bent over to help me to my feet, but I jerked away from him. If he touched me, I didn't think I could control my temper. Or my lust. My brain had just been full of fantasies of his fingers on my flesh. I almost shuddered as visions of me sexually attacking the man poured through my oversexed brain. Guiltily, I felt as if he'd just caught me staring at his ass. More annoyance followed the guilt.

I climbed to my feet and backed away from him. I was supposed to come to attention, but I didn't think my shaking knees could manage it. "Can I help you, sir?" I could tell by his expression that he didn't like my tone. "I've been wanting to talk to you," he stated in that superior-officer-to-junior-enlisted-soldier voice.

I looked at him suspiciously. Talk. "About what, sir?"

"Have I offended you?" I didn't like his tone any more than he liked mine.

"No, sir." Even to my own ears, I sounded offended. No, he hadn't offended me. He'd just caught me fucking another man, he'd punished me for it, and now he'd caught me immersed in thoughts of fucking him. I wanted him to go away.

His expression blackened. He turned his glare onto my hapless box. "Where does the box go?"

"In the storage room." I pointed. He grabbed the box and began pulling it. I was horrified. "I'll get it, sir!" He glared at me, but didn't stop. I tried to pull the box away from him. "I can get it, sir."

"Shut up, Wright."

I opened my mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. If the man wanted to get himself all sweaty doing my job, then so be it. Who was I, a lowly little private, to tell a major what the hell to do? Why would I want to? 

Even through the thick BDU's I could see his muscles bunching and flexing as he moved the box twice as far with half as much effort. My mouth watered and I glared at him. I fully intended to blame him for every sexual twitch he made me feel.

"Are there any other boxes?" He had the nerve to sound perfectly normal, as if he hadn't just wrestled a Bradley into the closet.

"Over there," I snapped, then belatedly, "Sir."

He locked his eyes on mine for a minute, a warning, then moved the other two boxes without a word. I crossed my arms and mutely watched him flex and grunt. A moment later, I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together. This was incredibly unfair. Sirs were supposed to be sexless neuters, having a gender reference only when it would be disrespectful to refer to them otherwise. Not this one, no, not him. Given half a chance I'd ride him like a mechanical bull set to full thrust. I swallowed a groan, the word "thrust" and the major in the same thought. . . .




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 03



All day Friday I was a bundle of nerves. What was I going to do? I knew that I should lock myself in my barracks room and chain myself to the wall to keep myself from doing what I was going to do. After PT, I stood naked and dripping from the shower in front of my wall locker. I had the doors flung open to reveal nothing sexier than a bunch of uniforms and a couple of skirts I wore to clubs when the occasion called for it. I had already considered that catholic schoolgirl ensemble, but dismissed it. I was still stinging from the major's comment about getting a little girl's dress and a lollipop.

"Hot date?" I about jumped out of my skin at my roomie's voice. I hadn't heard her come in. She wasn't supposed to be back for an hour, long after I'd left.

"No, just gonna take my truck out. There's s'posed to be some good trails up north." I had intended to do just that, before the major had seen fit to interfere with my plans.

"Why are you standing there then?" she asked, flopping on her bed to watch me. Was I blushing? God, I hoped not.

"I have to replace the carburetor soon. I was trying to decide between a Rochester and a Carter."

She rolled her eyes. "Ick, more of that car stuff. You're sick in the head, Wright."

"Gee thanks, Jones," I said dryly. "You liked that icky car stuff when I fixed your POS for you."

"Girl, don't go there. My car isn't a piece of shit. What do you think gets you to the auto parts store when your truck is in pieces, as usual? Anyway, have fun with your mud. I'm gonna get laid."

I grinned wickedly. Little did she know. Well, her presence ruled out a party girl get up. Too many questions I had no intention of answering. I pulled on my underwear and slipped into jeans and a tee shirt. I pulled my combat boots on and put my hair up in a pony tail. I didn't bother with make up. I never went mudding with make up on. So much for making the major melt with horny lust at my awesomely sexy appearance. There were times when I truly hated being such a tomboyish gearhead. I threw a few things into a bag and zipped it up. "See ya Sunday, Jones."

I was late, of course. Well fuck the major if he couldn't take it, there was always mud. My truck prowled the parking lot, slowly crawling farther into the crowded lot. The loud growling of its big block echoed and redoubled my apprehensive feelings. I called myself every nasty name in the book for being stupid enough to listen to my pussy instead of my brain. My hormones were in control, not me. If men felt even half this much pressure when they had involuntary wood, well, I really felt for them.

This was stupid. If I had even half a brain I would turn right around and go up north to find some good mud. It had to be some kind of trick. The major couldn't possibly want me, not to have sex with him. He was probably going to take advantage and make me a duty body or something. That scene in the office with my ass in the air and his tongue in my pussy, that, well, that was a. . . . 

Did he want to fuck me or didn't he?

In Row R of the long term parking lot there were thirteen cars. My overactive imagination gave me the eerie feeling that each car belonged to someone in the chain of command. The major lolled against a light post near a red Porsche. I was a vehicular snob of the worst kind. He glanced over at the truck dismissively, then turned around to look out over the runways. Apparently, so was he. I let the truck's idle dictate the speed and pointed it in his direction. He looked back at the truck again. I pulled into the spot next to the Porsche, opened the door and jumped out.

"Wright." He looked down at his watch. "You're late." He looked like a preparatory school jock dressed like that. Khaki dockers, loafers, a polo shirt, and a sweater. He was probably wearing a Rolex. I'd heard rumors of cash and West Point. I pulled at my jeans. I looked like a redneck hick. The right side of the tracks meets the wrong side of the tracks. I squelched the thought. There was usually a freight train or two at that particular junction.

"Yeah, well, life's a bitch, sir."

He spared my truck a disgusted glance. "You bring anything with you? Like a bag?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get it, then get in," he ordered, stepping up to the driver's side of the Porsche. I looked at the little car dubiously. "Sometime today, Wright."

"Yes, sir," I grumbled, then grabbed the bag and locked up the truck. I patted his smooth sides and climbed into the passenger side of the car. I wedged my bag down at my feet.

"Didn't think I was important enough to dress up for, Wright?"

"Everyone thinks I'm out driving my truck this weekend, not breaking Article 134. The latest fashions from Ralph Lauren for mudding clash with my skin tone." I waited just long enough to be insulting, then smiled sweetly at him. "Sir."

He laughed again. "I like you, Wright."

I looked out of the passenger window. He pointed the Porsche down the highway heading west. He fiddled with the stereo and brought up some top forty stuff. I wrinkled my nose and thought the better of complaining. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, scratched his face, shifted in his seat. I reached out and flicked off the stereo, cutting the latest boy band off in mid-caterwaul. He looked at me.

"If you don't like anything we do, just say Uncle and we'll stop and go right back to the barracks. That'll be your safe word," he said. That came clear out of left field. What in the hell was he talking about?

"What, sir?" He must not have liked my tone, he shot me a sidelong glance before staring back down the road.

"Why did you join the Army, Wright?" Prevaricating bastard.

"To get away from my brothers. I got sick of them bossing me around, sir." I glared at him when he laughed at me.

"So you joined the Army." He gave that little bit of oxymoronic wisdom of mine the dry tone it deserved.

"I can pick my own boyfriends now, sir."

"No more boys for you, Wright, you're mine. I own you."

Owned me? Why that arrogant, infuriating son-of-a-bitch. Visions of crushing his little pussy wagon with my truck rolled through my brain, thoroughly satisfying visions. Of course, it was a 911 Carrerra and even my vengeful little soul couldn't bear to smash it. I settled for glaring at him and he smirked at me. It suddenly occurred to me that a nice case of blue balls would wipe that irritating smirk off of his entirely too handsome face. Revenge would be sweet indeed.

Reaching down, I yanked open the button and zipper and wriggled my jeans down my rear just a little bit. I pulled my tee shirt out and slid my hand inside. He was no longer smirking. Good. 

Mindful of the fact that he was torn between watching the road and watching me finger myself, I found my clit with a long satisfied moan. I forgot all about Article 134 and assaulting an officer. All I thought about was the finger rubbing and teasing my clit and the major watching me. My pussy was wet, slippery, and feeling better all the time.

The sound of the door slamming brought me out of my pleasure. I opened my eyes and looked around, my finger pressed firmly to my clit. We were in a roadside park, one of those off-the-highway affairs with a few trees and a picnic table. We were the only ones there at present, but that could change at any minute. He yanked my door open. "Get out and take your jeans off."

What?

He didn't say a thing, just undid my seat belt and pulled me out of the car. I landed on my butt. He was wrestling with the laces to my combat boots. I put a foot on his shoulder and tried to shove him off. One of the boots went flying. "Dammit!" I yelled. "Stop that, sir!"

"Then take your jeans off." He was halfway through the laces of my other boot, and it soon went flying too. I tried to scramble after them but he had a hold of my leg. He was yanking my jeans down. "Off!"

"Those are my boots! I only have three pair, sir!"

"Off!" he roared again. I jerked my leg from the jeans and threw myself on one of my boots. I'd shined the things for hours the other day; they were my inspection pair.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me back towards the Porsche. I turned on him, claws, teeth, and swinging fists. 

"Ouch! You little--!"

It was obvious why he had that damned expert infantry badge and I was just a supply clerk. Fucking combat arms assholes. He wouldn't get by without a fight, no matter how futile it was. He wrapped one heavy hand around my mouth and jerked me tightly against his body. No matter how I wiggled and writhed, I didn't do anything more to him than encourage his erection to grow against my ass. When I bit his hand he forced his fingers deeper into my mouth.

"Hold still, you little hellcat," he growled in my ear. I quit fighting, leaning back against him. I sucked air around his fingers, finding it difficult to breathe, and discovered just how much I liked the taste of him. "I'm going to let you go. You take off the jeans and I'll get your other shoe. Nod if you understand."

Such romanticism. Well, the Major would find that pay backs are a bitch. I slowly nodded my head. He rubbed his penis against my rear one last time, then dropped me. I landed on my rump. Glaring at him, I moved to the seat and viciously yanked my jeans the rest of the way off. 

"That's better." He tossed my other boot down on the floor of the Porsche with my jeans. "You're going to be wild when I fuck you."

I sent him a dirty look. At this rate, all he'd be fucking was a hole in the fence. Don't think it didn't escape my notice that he'd just confirmed that he wanted to fuck me. Ha, fat chance of that ever happening. I didn't care if he was the star of every dirty, nasty, hot, little sex thought I'd had in the past few months, he wasn't getting any.

He slammed the door shut. Moments later we were going back down the highway. I scooted my rear to the edge of the seat and sulked.

"This is a seventy thousand dollar car. Get your feet off the dash," he growled.

"You were ripped off, sir," I growled right back. He started slowing the car. I put my feet on the floor. I could feel his smugness all the way over in the passenger seat. I wondered what had ever attracted me to him. He was a jerk. I looked at him, all patronizing private to his officer. "Excuse me, sir, if the private may inquire, sir. Where are we going, sir?"

He slanted me another glance. This one said don't push it. "Cabin. Rented it for the weekend. Don't worry, it's not Army."

It struck me then that I was actually doing it. I was going to some unknown destination with a superior officer in my chain of command to fuck. Visions of Club Fed in beautiful Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas danced through my brain. I slumped in the seat and pressed my hands to my face and grumbled, "Care to remind me why you're doing this again, Wright?"

I glanced over at the major, noting the muscled spread of his broad shoulders, playgirl centerfold profile, and the taut stretch of his trousers over his thigh and into his crotch. That's why I was doing this.

"There's enough room for you to spread your legs in here," he hinted.

"I noticed that, sir." He'd made me mad, bringing that awful stubborn streak of mine to the surface. I was going to be contrary as hell until my mad-on went away. The more I thought about his manhandling me beside the highway, the angrier I grew.

"Spread your legs, private." I didn't like his implacable tone. He sent me another warning glance.

Fine. He could have it his way. I twisted in the seat a little, enough to put one foot against my door and the other foot against his penis. The car jerked to the right suddenly, then straightened up. He grabbed my foot and traced the instep with his thumb. The unexpected pleasure of it made me jerk. His fingers played over the sensitive flesh of my foot all the way to the cabin.

The cabin was a perfect sinner's den. It was very privately situated in the foothills next to a clear mountain lake that appeared so cold that it made my nipples pucker just looking at it. A small dock jutted rather phallicly into the water. The cabin was sparsely furnished with a large fireplace which doubled as a cooking facility. There was an indoor outhouse and a crude veranda with an equally crude porch swing. It had, of all things, a bearskin on the old brass bed. End of amenities. A hunting cabin during the off season.

The air was chillier at the higher elevation. I climbed out of the car and looked around, trying to decide if I should put my jeans on or just stay like I was. I looked at the major from the corner of my eye. He was stretching the kinks from the road out of his back. Very impressive. Well Momma always said to begin as you mean to go on. I grabbed the bottom of my tee shirt and wriggled my way out of it. Apparently the major had a thing for wriggling and I was abruptly in the mood to accommodate. Just as abruptly, I had his full, undivided attention. Studiously ignoring him, I nonchalantly shimmied out of my underwear.

I put my clothing on the seat and strolled towards the lake. The cool air wrapped around all of my skin, a sensation that was as delicious as it was decadent. 

The major joined me on the shore, still fully clothed, I noted. 

"Your things are locked in the car," he said. "You won't need them."

I frowned up at the major. I wondered if he was trying to establish dominance by denying me my clothes while retaining his. Hopeless if he was, I was as comfortable naked as I was clothed. Whatever it was, I didn't like it. "What are you up to, sir?"

He smiled. "These are the rules."

"Rules, sir." I liked that even less.

"I'm in charge, Private Wright, don't ever forget that," he stated bluntly. "No clothes for you when we're here unless I give them to you. Keep calling me sir, I like that. Obey all orders. No questions. You serve me."

I laughed in his face, well, in his chest. I wasn't tall enough to reach his face. He turned purple. "You're cute, sir. I'll give you that much. You'll do whatever I feel like letting you get away with, sir."

"Are you completely stupid? I'm bigger than you private. I can beat you into a bloody pulp and no one could do anything about it," he growled dangerously. "I could snap your neck and there is nothing you could do to stop me."

"You're wrong, sir. You would stop you. You won't hurt me and you know it." I matched him gaze for gaze. "sir."

That made him cuss. He stomped away from me and yelled at the lake. He stomped back towards me. I admired the erection in his britches with a lick of my lips. Even in his stupid looking prep boy outfit he was everything a man should be, strong, muscular, primal. I'd seen him without his shirt on once and nearly fainted from it. The prospect of seeing him completely nude brought on a thigh dampening rush.

I was so engrossed with his body that it took me a few moments to notice he'd stopped yelling and was now contemplating me. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth and met his eyes. They were burning hot with a lust that appeared to match mine. I grinned a little satisfied grin and sidled up to him. "Your turn. I want to see you naked, sir."

For a minute I thought he was going to shuck his clothes right there. He went to the Porsche instead. He fetched his bag, a fancy black leather satchel, and mine, a black nylon duffel with the Army insignia stitched on the side. He disappeared into the cabin.

When I went inside, I found he'd built a fire inside, but hadn't stripped. Good, I wanted to watch. I sat in one of the chairs by the fire, the chair with arms. He stood in front of me, but didn't say anything. Didn't move either.

"Your clothes, sir," I reminded him.

"What about them, Wright?" He put his hands on his hips and glared at me.

"Take ‘em off, sir," I ordered haughtily, waving a hand lazily.

"Bossy little thing," he said. "You aren't in charge here, Wright."

"I know that, sir. My pussy is. Show me your body." I grinned unrepentantly. "Strip. You don't even have to wriggle, sir."

He looked down at his feet and shifted his weight. His hands dropped to his sides and his fingers twitched. Oh my, the major was embarrassed. I stopped grinning. "Please, sir?"

He lifted his head and locked his eyes on mine. His hands went hesitantly to the buckle of his belt. My eyes followed them. He paused, then undid it. Then the button and zipper on his khaki pants. He moved slowly, diffidently. I guessed that he'd never stripped for a woman before. I licked my lips when he started inching his polo shirt up his belly. He yanked it off.

Oh me oh my. With his shirt off he looked like some pagan warrior. My sex started to throb. I shifted in my chair, hooking one leg over the arm and pressing my fingers into my pussy. He took a deep breath and dropped the shirt. His gaze settled in the same place my fingers did.

He toed his shoes off and pulled off the socks. He hooked his thumbs into the trousers and the waistband of his underwear, then shoved them down his legs. He kicked them off and stood there, before me, legs slightly spread, cock pointing towards his belly. I groaned in appreciation. He was utterly beautiful.

The delicious naughtiness of the entire situation caught up to me. The very idea that one of the most forbidden men was standing naked for my pleasure sizzled down my spine. Beautiful, taboo, and all male. My fingers moved faster on my clit. He took a step forward and his erection bobbed. I squeezed my eyes shut, burning the picture of him like that forever into my brain, just before I came all over my hand.

"Holy fuck," he murmured. I opened my eyes again, feeling boneless. He was right in front of me, his hand slowly working his cock. Long and thick, the head of it burned reddish purple. As I watched, drops of precum oozed from the slit. My eyes followed his thumb as it spread the wetness across the broad head of his penis.

I considered going up for a taste, but thought the better of it. I wanted to watch, to see how far he'd go. Under my wet fingertips my pussy hummed to life again. I watched his fingers, noting the places they stroked and squeezed. Lazily, I matched his rhythm inside of my pussy.

His hand moved faster and the head of his cock turned a deeper red. "What are you thinking about, Wright?" His voice was rough and unsteady. It wasn't a question, it was an order.

"Your penis, sir."

"What about my dick, Wright."

"What it tastes like, sir." Lust washed over me again, making my voice husky with it. "What it would feel like on my tongue. How hot it is. How it would fill me. My pussy is so jealous of your hand, sir."

He must have like the idea too because he groaned and dripped precum. I licked my lips, barely restraining myself from licking him. Watching him masturbate was entirely too arousing to stop, I wanted to see him cum. To that end, I goaded him on with the words he wanted. Instead of with my fingers and tongue, I caressed him with my voice. I told him of my lust, how my nipples always seemed to get hard whenever he was near and how I soaked my panties when I saw him. I gave him little snippets of the sexual fantasies that had been tormenting me for the past few weeks. Like the one where, instead of inspecting my uniform as usual, he unbuttoned his pants and let me blow him in the middle of formation.

With a sexy howl, he came. His fist flew back and forth on his erection, huge spurts of cum landed on my face, breasts and belly. It was hot and creamy with a musky smell that made me drool. His eyes were shut and he was breathing heavily. He squeezed the full length of his shaft one last time, milking out the last few drops of cum. Leaning forward, I delicately licked at those last few drops. His taste exploded on my tongue. Oh fuck, he was delicious.

He sucked in a breath and his belly tightened. I pulled my fingers from my pussy, pruned from being wet so long, and cupped his balls with them. "Well?" he demanded. His voice was a little shaky.




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 04



Slinking back into the cabin, I noticed he'd ensconced himself on the old couch with a laptop. He was busily typing away at it, pausing every few moments to take a pull at his cock. He'd put on a pair of wire rimmed glasses that made him look incredibly sexy. So much for my dip in the lake.

I stood in front of the fire, letting it dry my skin, and stared at the bricks above it. This was not what I'd imagined when I'd driven to the airport parking lot. I was getting the nasty feeling that I was way out of my league, playing with fire. None of the guys I'd dated were remotely like him. I realized, suddenly, that was just it. I had just dated "guys" before. The major was all man.

I looked at the major from the corner of my eye. He was ignoring me. Sighing, I decided I may as well turn in, it had been a long day already. Perhaps tomorrow we could cease this nonsense. Padding silently on bare feet, I went to the bed and crawled into it, stretching out on my belly. I hmmed into the blankets, my eyes drowsily closing to the sound of his fingers on the keyboard. I felt oddly content.

After a bit, I heard him set the laptop aside and stand up. I opened my eyes to see him looming over me. "Roll over," he murmured, his eyes on my ass. I did as requested, stretching luxuriously. He smiled.

He stretched out on top of me. Spreading my legs to accommodate him, I smiled. Perhaps we were ceasing this nonsense now. It was about time. He gave me deep, stirring kisses, a mating of the tongues. His fingers ran up my ribs and along my arms to thread themselves with mine. I kissed him back, losing myself in him. He eased my hands up, above my head to the brass headboard. His fingers on one hand traced a path of pure sensation from my wrist to my waist. Moaning, I arched my back, pressing myself into him. He groaned into my mouth, sucking on my tongue. I lost track of everything but his lips on mine. His tongue retreated, drawing mine into his mouth.

I felt the rope suddenly jerk tight against my wrists. My eyes flew open in shock and I jerked my hands, but they didn't move. He lifted his head as his hands rapidly moved, completing the job. I jerked wildly at the ropes, bucking underneath him. Infuriated, I sank my teeth into the muscles of his neck, near his jugular. I ground down, trying to penetrate the skin. He shoved his thumb into the joint of my jaw, forcing my mouth open. He climbed off and stood over me, grinning. I kicked at him, hissing.

I scrunched up, getting my teeth into the rope that bound me, working at the knot. He caught my ankle and pulled me down easily. He tied my leg, ignoring my kicking. Some of the kicks landed on his arms and chest; they must have hurt, but he didn't show it. It didn't take him long to similarly tie my other ankle, my legs widespread.

I glared at him, my eyes promising all sorts of nasty retribution. I was too furious to say anything coherent, so I fumed.

He completely ignored me. Instead, he fetched his shaving kit and looked at the bite in the small mirror. I grinned a nasty little grin. No less than that rat bastard deserved. Deep impressions of my teeth were in a nice red, blue and black oval right over his aorta. He spent a few moments rinsing the bite before returning to the bed.

"New rule, private. You're only allowed to bite me when I'm fucking you. Do it again and I'll spank that ass for you."

I bared my teeth at him, a silent promise. His cock went from limp to hard so fast I almost missed it. I was getting the feeling that the man liked my defiance.

"Don't push me, private."

"Fuck you, sir."

"Only after you've asked permission to suck my cock."

I turned my head, silently dismissing him. I shut my eyes and tried to get myself un-pissed.

His weight made the bed dip, he settled himself between my spread legs. His fingers probed at my pussy, opening it to his gaze. He could see as well as feel that it was still wet. I could feel his hot breath against my widespread lips. Lifting my head, I watched as he dipped his head moments before I felt the hot stab of his tongue deep inside.

I swallowed a moan and twisted my pussy away from him, as far as I could at least. He followed, his tongue delving into me, licking and tasting. He sucked first on one lip, then the other. I whimpered. He pressed a little kiss to the top of my slit then looked up at me. I met his eyes and noticed he was smiling.

"You have a pretty little pussy." His voice licked over me like his tongue had moments ago. "Can't keep it from getting wet for me, can you, private? You are wet for me." As if I didn't notice. To emphasize his point he slid two fingers deep inside. I couldn't quite strangle the squeal that brought. His smiled widened, then he slid his tongue back in. I shut my eyes and just felt.

He sucked at my clit, petting me on the inside with his fingers. My eyes flew open and my hips bucked up against him. He'd found it. That spot inside that made all my nerves crackle and muscles clench. I could feel him grinning against me.

With his tongue and fingers he brought me to the brink of orgasm, so close that I almost made the leap. Then he backed off, pulling his fingers out and his tongue away. He waited a few minutes, watching my pussy suck at the air, desperately needing his fingers and tongue again. When I'd relaxed enough to suit him, he returned to my pussy, dragging me back towards orgasm.

He did this several times, until a few flicks of his tongue and a single thrust of his fingers made me start screaming. I was so aroused it hurt, I'd never been this desperate to cum before in my life. I'd have given just about anything to orgasm.

"Beg me. Ask my permission to let you cum," he said hoarsely.

Anything but that. A whiny little whimper escaped my throat and I found the will to shake my head no. He just smiled at me, his mouth shiny with my juices.

"You will," he promised. My eyes widened. He lowered his mouth to my pussy again.

I jerked at the ropes, not to get away from him, but to wrap myself around him and force him against my pussy. One good rub and I'd explode. Noises I barely recognized as mine came from me, my hips wriggled madly. Still he kept his touches light and just short of the relief I needed. He continued his practice of bringing me to the point of orgasm, then backing off.

"Pleeeeeeease." Was that me?

"What, private?" he asked mildly, his fingers idly thrusting in and out of my grasping pussy. My chest heaved and I shook my head, trying to deny my weakness.

"Please make me cum," I panted, a pathetic attempt at begging. He just smiled and licked at my clit, teasing me even more. It wasn't enough. I tried again. "Please let me cum."

"Ask my permission. Just like they taught you in basic." Was his voiced strained? I couldn't tell. He pulled his fingers out and nuzzled at my pussy.

My need to cum warred with my need to remain in charge of my own body. My pussy won. "Begging the major's pardon," I gasped out. "Would the major please grant the private permission to orgasm, sir."

"Good girl," he praised, patting my hip. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

"No, sir." I wiggled my hips enticingly, trying to remind him of my needy pussy. He kissed the top of my slit again. He swiped his tongue across the length of my lips, after the juices no doubt. His fingers patted me.

"Does the private have the major's permission to cum, sir?" I asked faintly. My pussy was swollen, begging and empty. I needed an orgasm so badly that I wanted to scream.

"Yes, private," he assented, then thrust his fingers deep, sawing them in and out quickly. I started gasping and panting all over again, my ass thrusting my pussy up at his fingers. He pressed his tongue firmly against my clit and rubbed it just like I needed. 

I came hard, screaming with the wonderful release. The orgasm started deep within, spreading like fire along the pulsing muscles to my clit. From there it sizzled along my spine to my brain, making me see stars. I vaguely remember hearing myself howling, panting, whimpering, and begging. I may have said things I was sure to regret later. It was the most intense cum I'd ever experienced.

I was slow returning to earth, my muscles relaxing and my pussy replete. It was some time before I noticed the major stretched out beside me. He was smiling at me tenderly, one calloused thumb absently rubbing one of my nipples. I opened my eyes and stared at him. He kissed me briefly on the lips.

"Good girl," he praised again. A flash of resentment ran through me. I didn't like being called a good girl. "Lick my face clean, then you can get some sleep. We'll see if you remember your lesson tomorrow."

Don't hold your breath. He moved closer to me, once again putting himself in range of my teeth. The thought didn't even occur to me, I simply licked myself from his face and neck. Afterwards, he slid his fingers in my mouth and I sucked them clean as well. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Get some sleep."

The major had obviously gotten up before I had, the cabin was empty and I was untied. I sat up and looked around. His bag was sitting where it had been, but mine was gone. I went to the rickety veranda. The Porsche was still there, relief flooded me.

He returned an hour or so later, wearing his PT shorts, shoes and nothing else. I admired his long, muscled body, he was magnificently somewhere between lean and thickly muscled. As he strode towards me, muscles rippling under his smooth hide, I was forcibly reminded of one of the reasons for my nearly intolerable infatuation.

Stepping onto the porch, he took my hands and inspected my wrists. He rubbed his thumb across the chafed skin. "I didn't want to tie you up," he said, as if it were all my fault. I frowned. "You have such soft skin, I should have brought softer rope."

"You planned to tie me up, sir?" I demanded hotly, my temper getting away from me. I almost demanded that he take me home, immediately. Almost. 

"No, I didn't plan on it, but I knew I'd have to." He tugged me into the cabin. "You're a hellion."

"Hellion is archaic. Sir," I snapped.

"Okay. You're a stubborn bitch." He sounded too gleeful about that. I wanted to strangle him. He touched the bite mark on his neck. "With teeth."

"I don't like being tied up and I don't like being called a little girl." Was I whining? I wanted to sound gruff and mean. "Sir."

"You're little. You're a girl," he pointed out.

"Don't call me a little girl, sir," I growled, doing a fair imitation of his tone and poking him in the chest with my finger. "And don't tie me up again, sir."

He grinned down at me, obviously pleased. "There's my hellcat."

"Hellion, hellcat." I looked up at him suspiciously. "You sound like you've been reading romance novels, sir."

He was unrepentant. "Stole it off your desk. Shame, shame, Private Wright. You shouldn't be reading that smut during duty hours."

"You're in an awfully good mood, sir," I grumbled, dropping down onto the couch and glaring at my knees. I hated morning people. I was not a morning person. They had no right to be so damned cheerful before noon.

"I don't hear women screaming ¡ÆPlease make me cum, sir! Don't ever stop licking me! Oh my God, sir!!!!' very often." His grin widened. "You promised to do whatever I wanted at the top of your lungs. Anything, you said."

"I can't be held responsible for whatever I said during orgasm, sir." I blushed to the roots of my hair.

"It doesn't matter Wright," he said, suddenly serious. "You're mine. You belong to me. I own you."

"No, sir," I said coldly. "You don't."

He put his nose inches from mine. "Yes, Wright. I do. You will admit it."

Not bloody likely. He glared down at me, obviously not liking my expression one bit. That was fine with me, I didn't particularly care for his either. "I can see that you didn't learn a damned thing last night, private."

My mutinous stare matched his angry eyes. "No," I grumbled through me teeth. "Sir."

I found myself tied to the bed again. I wasn't sure how he'd accomplished it, considering the fight I put up. I'd kicked, squirmed, and fought with all the dirty little tricks I knew, but nothing I did seemed to faze him. I couldn't even get my teeth into him either. I made a mental note to take some karate classes.

He took me through a reiteration of last night's "lesson" with his fingers. It didn't take nearly as long, as near as my pleasure fogged brain could reckon, to get me to the point where I threw my pride to the winds and begged him. I was too easy, embarrassingly so, at least to my mind.

"Begging the major's pardon, sir. Would the major please grant permission for the private to cum, sir?" I was disgusted and pleading all at the same time. He smiled down at me and thrust his fingers inside in a way that made my entire body buck.

"My cock." He reminded, wriggling his fingers. I shuddered, but didn't quite manage to orgasm.

I knew exactly what he wanted. I almost cried. Desire and pride fought inside. The chimera of orgasm danced just beyond my reach, my brain was melting. Pride didn't put up much of a fight. "Begging the major's pardon, sir." I whimpered when he twisted his fingers and pulled them away. "Would the major please grant permission for the private to suck the major's cock, sir?"

He pulled his cock out of the shorts and brought it towards my lips. I opened my mouth wide, eyes fixed on the dripping slit in the head. He pulled it away from me. "Ah ah ah private. Follow instructions."

Jerking a little at the ropes holding my hands, I closed my mouth. Somewhere, somehow, I'd completely lost control of the situation.

"Good." Damn he sounded smug. I was beginning to back farther and farther off of my orgasmic high, getting more sense. "Anytime you want this to stop, all you have to say is uncle. I'll understand and let you go."

That confused me. I looked up at my hands, then at him. He sat on the bed next to me. "This isn't a game, Wright. I'm going to teach you to submit to me, but only as far as you're willing to go."

I turned this concept over in my mind a few times. I understood it, recalling to mind the old saying that the slave is in control, not the master. Right above the animated gif on a bad porno site of a trussed up woman getting whipped. Mentally, I rebelled at the slave/master image, even while I acknowledged it in his attempts to dominate me. I pulled at the ropes again, just to feel them. How much was I willing to bind myself to this man. Enough, I discovered, enough.

"I understand, sir." 

He smiled at me and slid his fingers back inside my pussy. I gasped, then groaned. Then he left me. I found myself getting angry all over again. The man left me high and dry, after I'd swallowed my pride and everything. He was gone forever, probably twenty minutes, but with my arms tied it seemed like forever.

After puttering around the small room a bit, he untied me. I sat up and rubbed my wrists, looking around. He'd bathed in the lake and was, once again, as naked as I was. He had also fetched a cooler and laid out a small breakfast of fruit and bagels on the table. I suddenly wanted an Egg McMuffin. 

"Come here," he said from one of the chairs at the chipped, linoleum-covered table.

For some inexplicable reason, I was suddenly nervous, as if I were a virgin all over again. This was ridiculous. Diffidently, I stood and made my way over to him. This was not me at all. I was bold, brash, and impulsive. I did not do anything diffidently. He smiled at me again. So, I'd done something right.

"Ask me for my cock again," he ordered.

My mulish stubborn streak slammed through me with the force of a freight train. I took a step back, taking my pussy out of the range of his fingers. "Not bloody likely, sir."

"Do I need to get the rope out again, private?" He sounded more impatient than angry.

I eyed him suspiciously. The man outweighed me by at least 100 pounds and seemed to know what I was going to do before I did. Even though there was, there seemed to be no acceptable alternative to that rope. It rankled and thrilled all at the same time. "Begging the major's pardon, sir," I stated in precise military tones. "Would the major please grant the private permission to suck the major's cock, sir?"

"You address officers at attention, private, or didn't they teach you that in basic?"

I swallowed a growl and snapped to attention. "Begging the major's pardon, sir." My tone went slightly beyond military to barely snide. He frowned. "Would the major please grant the private permission to suck the major's cock, sir?"

He waggled his erection at me. "Come get your breakfast, private."

"You intend to starve me, sir?" I demanded, incensed, when I figured out what he was talking about.

"Of course not." He waved a hand negligently over the table. "Consider this dessert. Now get on your knees and suck it."

Suck nothing. I dropped to my knees between his spread legs and set my teeth into it. He hissed when they squeezed him ever so delicately. I came at his cock from the side, wrapping my mouth around the shaft just below the head. Curling my tongue around it, I pulled his shaft deeper into my mouth. I found the sweet spot on the underside just below the head with my hind teeth.

I could hurt him, but I wouldn't. Instead, I chose a subtle disobedience. I would not suck on his cock. Teeth, lips, tongue and fingers, but no sucking. I would take his cum from him, without a single suck. With that goal in mind, I redoubled my efforts, bringing my fingers up to his shaft and balls.

Groaning, he eased back in the chair and gave me complete access to his privates. I worked over him with my teeth like an ear of corn, my fingers rubbing and stroking firmly where ever my mouth wasn't. His hips started grinding upwards. His hands moved to my head, trying to guide my mouth over the to the tip. My hand moved faster on base, my knuckle pressed tighter to the patch of skin between his balls and ass, making small circles.

His hands were insistent, he brushed the head against my lips. I opened them and allowed him to slide inside. He started thrusting in and out of my mouth shallowly, grunting with every inward stroke. My hand still worked on his cock, matching the strokes into my mouth, somehow I managed to keep my teeth out of him.

"Fuck, I'm cumming." He sounded surprised. His hand pushed mine out of the way and took over on his shaft. With a strangled grunt, he started spurting into my mouth. His hips worked convulsively, his hand squeezed towards the head, and I did my best to swallow all of his cum.

After licking a few stray drops from the tip of his cock and my lips, I went around to a chair and sat down. Calmly, with as much regal dignity as I could muster, I began to eat.

"You may make yourself cum now," he stated after he'd recovered enough to eat his own breakfast. I paused long enough to slant him a glance, then returned my attention to my food.

"Private, you can cum."

"Thank you, sir," I said politely, then resumed eating. He stared at me for a few moments, then ate his own breakfast. I finished before he did. 



Breaking Article 134 Ch. 05



Taking his comb onto the porch, I sat in the swing and slowly worked the tangles out of my hair. Considering the position of the sun, it was near noon. "How did you find this place, sir?" I asked the moment he stepped out onto the porch. He scratched himself, then sat next to me on the swing. I snuggled against his side, one leg hanging with his, the other on the swing. He told me it belonged to a friend of his uncle or something. He'd used it before to relax, hunt or fish.

I listened to the rumble of his voice, not the words, as he talked. He wrapped an arm around me and started the swing rocking. He paused a moment when I slid my fingers into my pussy and began a leisurely rubbing. I slowly brought myself to a silent orgasm, laying against him and enjoying the feel of his heat, the smell of his skin, the sound of his voice. He hummed when I came, then resumed talking about his military career while I dozed off against him.

The major had taken himself off somewhere in the Porsche. He'd considerately enough left me a little note saying he'd be back before nightfall. He also ordered me to bathe. I was highly insulted. I went for a nice, long, anger-sapping swim in the lake instead. It was impossible to remain hotly furious in that freezing water.

Despite all of my worries that I'd been abandoned, the major arrived just before the sun started to go down. I heard the car from my position, in the water at the end of the dock, but studiously ignored him. I concentrated on dog paddling instead.

He was pretty hot under the collar when he finally thought to look for me at the end of the dock. He'd been yelling my name for a while, interspersed with orders to get my little ass there now. My traitorous little ass was twitching at the dirty little thoughts of the major running around in my head.

Disgusted with myself, I climbed onto the dock and sauntered unhurriedly toward him. I wouldn't want him to think I was actually obeying. He put his fists on his waist and glared at me, a muscle in his jaw ticking. I was suddenly reminded of Drill Sergeant Green and his favorite pre-ass-smoking-exercise-session phrase, pain will make you think.

I stopped in front of him, dripping all over his shoes and slacks. I looked up at him sidelong, a little smile playing at the corner of my mouth. "Hello, sir."

"Just get your ass in the house, Wright."

Inside the door, I stopped dead. The major ran into me, nearly knocking me over. I rubbed my eyes, just to make sure I wasn't imagining things. The table had been covered with a white cloth, a silver service for two, and an elaborate centerpiece with flowers and candles. The major had soft, string quartet music playing from a radio on the counter.

I stared at this, my eyes bulging in horror. I was a hick born and bred, all the way to the marrow of my bones. Three pieces of flatware comprised my fine dining education. Five, if you counted the corn on the cob holders. Feelings of social inferiority swamped me. The major shoved a box into my hands, drawing my attention from my newest nightmare.

Diffidently, I opened it. Inside was layer upon layer of white cloth. "Put it on. I'll be back in twenty minutes." I dried myself off and put the thing on. It turned out to be a peignoir. I felt like an idiot.

The major approved of it rather vocally. He seated me at the table and served the first course from a set of sacks in the fridge. I nibbled at my meal, too nervous to dig in. I wondered at his motives for this little presentation.

The man wanted conversation. We discussed everything from politics and religion to sex and mud tires. In all of my fantasies about this man, not one time did he ever say anything other than fuck words. In all of my romantic dealings with the opposite side of the species, not one time did I ever find one who was interested enough in what I had to say to actually converse with me. Especially not when there was sex readily available.

The longer we talked the more I enjoyed his company. Other than Sergeant Mendez, who was married and therefore neutered in my mind, I hadn't ever sat down with a man and just had a conversation. A glimmering of respect for the major began growing somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Respect that hadn't been there before, at least not for him as a man. I considered it further and what I discovered startled me. 

In my astonishment, I did something that I could not forgive myself for. Rage surged through me at this latest mental indignity he'd forced on me. Shoving the chair back and springing to my feet, I threw the napkin onto the table. "You are not going to do this to me, sir," I snapped, glaring at him with all of the misplaced, righteous fury I possessed.

"Do what, private?" He looked amused. That made me angrier. I considered throwing something at him.

"I will not like you, you can't make me do it." I bared my teeth at him. "Sir."

"That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Why the hell not?"

"You are a major. I am a PFC," I explained to him as if he were not only two, but mentally challenged to boot. "Sir."

"In this place rank means nothing. Here, I am the man and you are the woman and that's all there is to it. Do you understand me, private?"

"We aren't always going to be here." My glare deepened. "Sir."

"You already like me, Wright. Sit down and eat your dessert. You have no idea how hard it was to pick the damned thing out." He picked up his own fork and eyed me over it.

I hated it when he was right. I sank into my chair and glared at the dessert. I wasn't going to eat it, not even if he ordered it. The major was apparently familiar with my mulish expression. He set his fork down, a muted clink on the china. "You didn't like the dinner." He sounded almost, well, uncertain. I looked at him suspiciously, but no insecurity showed in his impassive face.

"I liked it, sir."

"Then it's me. You don't like me."

"I like you, sir." There, galling as it was, I admitted it.

"Then what's the problem, private?"

"I can't have you, sir." I stared at the chocolate confection on my plate and twiddled the small dessert fork.

Abruptly, he was beside me, pulling me to my feet. I sucked in a breath, I hadn't heard him move. His eyes locked on mine, his fingers undoing the placket in the front of his trousers. He grabbed my hand, sliding my fingers into his soft cotton underwear. My hand was full of his hardening penis. My eyes widened. "You have me, private." His voice was visceral, belying the highly polished, civilized veneer of the elaborately set table and his perfect manners.

"That's not what I meant, sir."

"Your hand is on my dick, private."

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Indeed my hand was. Moving my fingers over the hot flesh, I shut my eyes and enjoyed the feel of him. His hand tightened on my wrist before I could get enmeshed into the sensuality of stroking him. My eyes clashed with his. I was not going to be denied, this is what I came for.

"Who do you belong to, private?" he asked, his voice as hoarse as his cock was hot.

"The United States Army." My expression was as unyielding as his. "Sir."

He leaned down and licked at my lips. "You belong to me." His tongue slid into my mouth, hot and probing. Groaning deep in my throat, I sucked at him. His lips shifted, opening, deepening the mating of our mouths. I closed my eyes and sank into him. The major kissed better than most guys could fuck.

His mobile lips tested my jaw line, then the hollows of my neck to my shoulders. He nibbled at the point of my shoulder briefly, then cupped my cheeks in his palms and kissed me with all of the heady romance carefully hidden deep in my soul. Another little piece of me became his.

The major pulled away and looked down at me for a moment. I opened my mouth to say something, what, I hadn't figured out just yet, but he shook his head. He took a few moments to strip himself completely naked, but stopped me when I tried to do likewise. Instead of continuing the will-numbing kissing, we cleaned up the dinner mess. 

He was driving me crazy with the hot and cold moods he was running. First he was igniting enough sexual heat in me to start a cataclysmic inferno, then he was doing dishes and whistling as if he were a eunuch. After the mess had been dealt with, we sat on opposite sides of the couch, at his instigation, and began an idle chit chat. Chit chat! He was confusing me and I didn't like it.

He pulled one of my feet into his lap, scooting my butt on the sofa. I tried to jerk it back, he held onto it, stripping off the dainty white slippers I was wearing. Under my suspicious, wary eye he started slow massaging circles with his thumbs on the arch. That felt heavenly. With a long groan, I leaned back and let him rub away.

I desperately wanted to touch him in some way, to communicate my need for him tactilily, but he wouldn't let me close enough. Every time I moved to sit up, he gently instructed me to lay back and enjoy. His fingers roamed up along my calves and back down again. While discussing the merits of his Porsche versus a Viper, I found myself pulled closer to him, until his fingers could move farther on my thighs, up to my belly.

One industrious finger touched the apex of my sex and all pretense of conversation ceased. He lifted the bottom of the peignoir past my hips, making a clear path for his eyes to follow his finger. In a voice as choked as my thoughts, he asked, "Who do you belong to, Wright?"

My eyes narrowed. Back to this again. I opened my mouth to say something with all the zinging sarcasm I could muster. He cut me off by leaning over and using his tongue on my clit. I moaned deep in my throat, it felt so good. He looked up at me again, catching my gaze. "Who do you belong to, Wright?"

"I belong to me, sir." My voice was soft and implacable. Anger and frustration flitted through his eyes, then he dropped his lips to my pussy again.

The blood in my veins slowed, throbbing and molten. My body was primed, ready. I felt as if I would orgasm with his first thrust into my body, if he would just do it. I arched my back of the couch, panting and begging. He backed his mouth off again, waiting until I met his eyes somewhat coherently. "Who do you belong to?"

"No one." I felt like hitting him again or at least yelling at him. I was getting the female version of blue balls. "Sir."

He slid two fingers into me, rubbing and caressing my clit with the palm of his hand. "You're hot inside, Wright, hotter and wetter than any pussy I've ever had. I've barely touched you and you're dripping. See?" He pulled his hand away and showed me how I'd soaked it. I shivered when he sucked one of his fingers clean. "Who do you belong to, Wright?"

I whimpered and shook my head. He slid his fingers inside again, making me groan and push into him. 

"Who do you belong to, Wright?" His voice was rougher. Thrusting fingers punctuated his question.

Visions of the night before and his fingers and that tongue on my pussy ripped through my brain. A grunt torn from my throat was the best I could come up with. He twisted his fingers, then pulled them out, lightly stroking along the lips. I felt my autonomy slipping away, my precious control over my own self, my own fate was leaving me with every stroke of his fingers.

"Who do you belong to, Wright?" he demanded.

"You!" I yelled, thrusting my pussy at his fingers. He pulled them away.

"Say it!"

"I belong to you, sir," I said, my eyes on his, pure fiery defiance. He smiled at me for a fraction of a second, then latched his mouth onto mine. His fingers dove back into my pussy. I howled into his mouth when he took my clit in hand and drove me wild.


The major shifted between my legs, fitting the broad head of his penis to my grasping pussy. "You want my cock, private?"

"Yessir." I wriggled my ass, succeeding only in rubbing the tip all over my slick pussy. I shoved upwards, trying to get him to sink into me, but he wouldn't let me.

"Who owns you?"

"You do, sir," I growled, glaring up at him. If he didn't penetrate me, I swore to fuck I'd bite him again.

With a groan, he began to slide inside. He moved slowly, eyes closed and the tendons on his neck standing out. I shut my eyes and lost myself to the sensation of that thick head spearing my pussy open. My muscles spasmed around his cock, then squeezed, making him seem to grow all that much bigger.

"That's it, take it all," he grunted once his cock was buried all the way. I moaned lightly and wrapped my legs around him. Squeezing with my thighs and heels, I began to move myself on his cock, grinding my pussy against his pelvis.

He pulled out almost all the way, then pushed back in, a long slow stroking of my inner self. I undulated my abdomen just to feel the delicious friction of his cock locked deeply within my pussy. It felt incredible, but it wasn't enough. My insides were twisting, trying to reach the pinnacle of orgasm again, but falling short. The need to cum was driving me crazy.

Bending my legs, I swung them around his front, putting my feet to his chest. It was harder to move and my neck immediately kinked, but I could reach my clit more efficiently. I groped at my breasts for a moment, then slid a hand straight down, finger extended obscenely. My body bucked when I touched my clit, forcing his cock deeper into my pussy.

"Ooo," I groaned, sliding my finger down to his cock to wet it before dragging it back across my clit. 

I felt like molten steel dipped in ice. The heat within me was insufferable but the feel across my skin was cold, cold enough to make my breasts tighten, nipples pucker, and my body quiver. I touched his cock with my finger again, then returned to make small, swift circles on my clit. He groaned and started thrusting heavily.

My pussy lips sucked at his cock with every withdrawal and I grunted with him at every inward stroke. My ass clenched and I bucked myself against him, wanting more of his cock. I could no longer keep track of my clit with my finger, so I dropped my legs around his hips again, sinking my wet fingers into his flexing ass. He moaned, wrapped his arms around me and hammered his cock into my pussy.

"Who do you belong to?" he roared, punctuating it with a heavy thrusts of his cock. "Who?"

"You, sir!" I yelled back, wrenching my body off the couch, thrusting as much of myself at him as I could.

Inside of my clenching pussy, I could feel him lengthen. Everything in me was focused on the pure burning friction of his cock churning inside of me. My body clamped down, tightening. I sank my teeth almost viciously into his shoulder, drowning my scream as my orgasm slammed through my body with the force of a frag grenade. He roared again, shoving his cock inside deeper than anyone had ever gone before. His hips jerked, rocking against mine spasmodically, his cum exploding into my greedy pussy.

Our bodies, both taut and perfectly still as the climax raged through us, melded until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began. In that single orgasmic moment, I knew that he owned me. Military conventions, Army regulations, the Uniform Code of Military Justice aside, I belonged to him.

The tide of orgasm receded, leaving me feeling lethargically sated. The Major's body slowly relaxed, half on top of me, half on the edge of the couch. He was heavy and warm, a comfortable blanket on my chilly, sweat covered hide. Twisting his head, he pushed his nose into my neck and lipped at my skin lazily. One of my legs was still wrapped around his hips, the other one was by his side, keeping him in the cradle of my sex. We were still joined in the most elemental way, though the softening of his erection and slickness of our mingled orgasm threatened to break that. Closing my eyes and smiling contentedly, I let myself imagine that we would always be joined in that elemental way, even when he was gone from my body.

"Who do you belong to, Private Wright?" he asked softly, nuzzling my ear. Of course, he had to ruin the afterglow. I wanted to stiffen, working up a good mad, but that took more energy than I had. "Who do you belong to?"

I did not belong to anyone, I wanted to yell, but, I sighed, I wasn't a liar, particularly to myself. I turned my head towards the back of the couch, away from him, denying what I knew was true. The backs of his fingers tenderly traced a loving path down my cheek, past my jaw to my throat. I swallowed, holding my breath. He turned his hand over, stroking back up my throat to my cheek again, petting my skin. Suddenly, I felt tears pricking at the back of my eyelids.

"I belong to you, sir." I didn't recognize my voice. It was hoarse and ragged.

He wrapped his arms around me, cradling me closer to him and pressing gentle lips to the quivering skin of my jaw and neck. His fingers continued to lavish attention to my cheek and lips, stroking my face. They grazed past the lashes of a closed eye, then paused a moment before pulling away, his lips leaving me. I opened my eyes to see him looking at the wet pads of his finger, and flushed clear to my toes. Tears were a weakness I never shared. 

With soft fingers on my jaw, he gently tugged my face toward his. Leaning over me fully, he pressed kisses to my eyes, then the tip of my nose. When he didn't move, I hesitantly opened my eyes. He was hovering over me, inches from my face, smiling tenderly down at me. In his eyes was a gentle approval, and something else just as tender and more intense. He murmured something I didn't understand and stroked a finger down my cheek. Mentally, I rebelled, denying whatever it was I saw in his eyes.

"Tell me what I want to hear," he said, his voice deep and gently vibrant.

My mind flashed to a conversation not so long ago. I heard the echo of him, his voice steely and determined. . . . You're mine, you belong to me, I own you... you will admit it.

"I belong to you, sir," I said diffidently, slowly feeling my way through this new and completely unknown territory. He hummed deep in his chest, still smiling down at me.

"Tell me, private."

"You own me, sir," I said, even more softly than before. He groaned again, squeezing me tightly and latching his mouth onto mine. Inside me, his cock exploded from limp to fully erect.

"Again. Again!" he demanded, sucking at my lips and chin.

"You own me, sir." My voice was stronger now, more firm. His hands went to my ass, tugging me under him for better penetration.

"Tell me," he ordered again, licking and nipping along my jaw to my neck, just below my ear. "Tell me."

"You own me, sir." My voice matched his in intensity. He made an unrecognizable epithet and started thrusting heavily into me. My body rocked on the couch, pummeled by the strength of his fucking.

"Again, tell me again." His voice was quiet, but with the strength of a roar.

"I belong to you, sir," I said, feeling the power of it creeping through me. "You own me, sir."

"More," he demanded, pushing up until his arms were locked. His cock felt like it was burning me from the inside out, stroking in and out of me faster and faster until the friction turned boiling hot.

"You own me, sir," I reiterated. "You own all of me sir. I'm yours."

He threw his head back and roared, his cock once again exploding inside, this time emptying his essence, all of himself into me. Grunting, he eased his weight fully on top of me, sweating and panting. I dragged my nails through the sweat on his rippling back. He gathered himself, tilted my chin up and plundered my mouth. It was almost as if he couldn't get enough of me.

He wrenched his mouth away, still breathing heavily. "Say it again."

"I belong to you, sir."

"All of it, say all of it again." He had a begging note to his guttural tone.

"You own me, sir." I suddenly felt shy, but just as implacable as I'd been in my denials of this very admission. "You own all of me, sir. I'm yours."




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 06



The cabin was empty and silent when I woke. Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling and sighed. Vaguely, I recalled waking earlier to the feel of his hard driving cock pistoning in and out of my pussy, then a low groan when he came. The sun was shining brightly, so it was well into morning, and I could hear the lake lapping at the dock. I was a sticky mess of cum; a swim would do me good.

Leaving the ruined peignoir on the bed, I sauntered from the cabin, casually making my way to the dock for a few deep stretches. Just in case he was somewhere, watching. The lake looked cold. Did I really want to jump in there? Diving in, I almost screamed when I surfaced, it was freezing in the water. I swam a few half hearted strokes, then gave up and stayed in the water long enough to give my pussy a good scrubbing with my fingers. I heaved myself up onto the dock, climbing awkwardly to my feet, already shivering.

"You little idiot!" the Major roared. I almost fell back in.

I pushed my hair out of my face and blinked back the water. "Sir?"

"That water is freezing! You could have drowned!" He advanced on me, until he was face to face with me. My face was probably pale or blue from the cold water still dripping on it. His was angry and red, with sweat dripping on it. He was still yelling at me, I tuned him out, my eyes watching a droplet of sweat curl around the outside of his eye and make a path down his cheek.

Pushing myself up on tiptoe and bracing my hands on his chest, I leaned up and licked that drop of sweat from his jaw. Salty, like his cum.. For a moment, there was a deathly silence.

"Are you listening to me?" If he kept roaring like that, I would be deaf before the day was out.

"Uh, nossir." Maybe I should have lied.

He turned an interesting shade of purple, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me to the cabin. He peeled back the blankets and shoved me onto the bed, then wrapped the blankets around me. He was still yelling. He stalked around the cabin, snatching up towels, discarded clothes, and another quilt before stalking back over to me and draping me with these things, too.

Cursing, or what sounded like cursing, in a language I didn't know, he ripped away all of the things he'd just covered me with, and climbed on the bed himself, yanking everything back over us. "Uh, sir?" I began tentatively.

He cussed some more, in what sounded like a different language than the first one, and jerked the covers back off and leaped to his feet. "I'm going to wring your neck if you ever do something that stupid again, private," he snarled, tearing his jogging shorts and running shoes off. Moments later, he was in the bed again and we were cocooned. He grunted and glared at the wall behind me.

"Sir. . . ." I sounded like a mouse.

"What, private?" 

"I, uh, well, I'm. . . ."

"Spit it out, private."

"I took second at the regionals in Montana for the 100meter freestyle. I grew up swimming in creeks and ponds that are colder than that lake," I explained diffidently. "Sir."

"Shut up, private," he snapped. "I won't have you taking risks anymore. And that's an order."

"Yessir." Risks. Maybe I'd better not take him out in my truck, I had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"Good girl," he praised, curling an arm around to rub my shoulder. I had the sudden ridiculous urge to growl, bare my teeth, and sink them into his palm.

"I am not a dog, sir," I said instead, glaring at the flesh of his throat.

"I don't fuck dogs, private." His tone was a subtle warning for me not to push it. 

"Quit calling me ‘Good girl.'" I ignored his warning, and delivered one of my own with a voice vibrating with anger and indignation. "Sir."

His hand squeezed my shoulder. "You're not my fucking dog, you're my fucking private. I'll call you any goddamned thing I want to. Girl."

Taking him completely by surprise, I rolled him over on his back, straddling his hips, my hands planted on his chest. He stared up at me in a mixture of shock and anger. "I'm not a dog. Don't treat me like one. Save your good girls and your petting for you snotty girlfriends," I sneered. "Sir."

"I own you, private. Or did you already forget?" he growled.

Shrugging the blankets off, I sat up and put my hands on my hips. I didn't think my spine could get any stiffer than it was. "No, I didn't forget. I won't tolerate being patronized. Sir."

"While you're there, put my cock inside your pussy," he ordered arrogantly.

I crossed my arms under my breasts. "No sir."

He had been quasi-erect for the last few minutes, quietly trapped between his pelvis and my spread legs. The instant his brows slammed together and his jaw clenched; his cock surged between the folds of my pussy, rubbing past my clit, to extend farther along his belly in full erection. I swallowed a moan and found myself unable to stop my twitching hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, half in awe, half in anger.

Digging my fingers into his pecs, I gritted my teeth stubbornly and tried to hold myself still. My ass tightened and my pussy slid forward, then backwards. I twisted, grinding down on him, feeling my lips open and wrap around his cock. My clit suddenly hardened and throbbed, fully in contact with the smooth, veined surface. Sucking in a breath, I shut my eyes and slowly teased my clit with his cock, moving back and forth in deliberate strokes.

The Major's fingers curled into my hips, gripping tightly. My eyes flew open and met his intense, burning gaze. He pulled me down harder against his cock, making me gasp as the lightning of the cock to clit sensation shot through my spine to my brain. Using his hold on my hips, he dragged my clit back and forth across the full length of his shaft. I shut my eyes, letting my head fall back, and moaned deep in the throat.

He hissed another curse too low for me to hear and rocked me along his cock, guiding my movements by sheer strength. Slowly, I dragged my nails down his chest and abs, bringing my fingers to my body. Both hands smoothed past the skin of my belly, one to curl up to tempt a nipple into hardness, the other one gliding past my throat and cheek into my hair. Arching my back, I undulated on top of him, rippling the length of my body and grinding myself more firmly on his erection.

Losing track of everything but the heat burning through me, I found a rhythm with my hips and hands that turned the heat into an inferno. Faster and harder I rocked, barely hearing the mewling howls I made over the roaring in my ears. With an almost surprised shriek, my orgasm raged through me, starting at the wet clit between my legs and ending with the pinpricks of light in my eyes.

Putting my hands back on his chest, head hanging, and still twitching my pussy against his erection, I gasped for air. "Holy fuck," he breathed.

"What, sir?" I eased down, until I was laying on top of him.

"I've never seen a woman do that."

"Do what, sir?" I nuzzled my cheek into his chest, my eyes sliding shut, replete.

"Orgasm like that."

"You never had a woman orgasm with you before, sir?" I had trouble believing that.

"You make yourself cum and you don't even care that I'm watching you do it. You don't wait for me, you don't need a long buildup, you just do it. If you need to touch your pussy to make yourself cum, you do it, even if I'm watching."

"I like it when you watch me cum, sir." 

"That's just it, private. You're so free with yourself." He patted my ass. "Uninhibited."

"Thanks, sir," I said. Whatever sir.

He rolled out of bed and headed for the fridge. I picked myself up from the sheets I'd been dumped on and glared at him, I'd been comfortable, dammit. Pulling myself to my feet, I watched him pull out another fruit and bagel breakfast. He arranged the food on the table and sat in his customary chair, then smiled at me, squeezing his cock. "Breakfast?"

I climbed to my feet and sauntered over to him as unhurriedly as I possibly could. I stopped, preparing to drop to my knees.

"Ten-hut!" At the sound of his sharp command, I snapped instantly to attention. He leaned back indolently in the chair, still holding his cock, and waited.

"Begging the Major's pardon, sir," I stated in bored military tones, trying not to roll my eyes. "Would the Major please grant the private permission to suck the Major's cock, sir?"

He smiled. "You may suck my cock, private."

I dropped to my knees between his legs and let his cock slide down my throat with a soft groan. Shutting my eyes, I tasted every inch with my tongue, then sucked. His hips worked in tandem with my sucking, thrusting his shaft in and out of my mouth until he held my head still and dropped his load onto the back of my tongue and throat. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead after I had slowly pulled my mouth from his softening cock, sucking up stray drops of cum along the way.

He presented me with a small piece of pineapple in his fingers. Confused, I reached for it, he pulled it away, smiling softly and shaking his head. I dropped my hand and he offered it again. "Open your beautiful mouth," he murmured. I did as bid and felt him slide the fruit onto my tongue. Curling my tongue around the pineapple, I sucked on his fingers as he pulled them from my lips. He purred deep in his chest, in satisfaction.

For the next few moments, it was silent in the cabin. He would take a bite of some tidbit, then feed the rest to me. He had an absorbed, intense look in his eyes, as if this act of feeding me required utter concentration. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in front of me and pressed gentle lips to mine. I could taste the sweet breakfast of pineapples and papaya that we'd just shared. He kissed me thoroughly with his lips, tongue and some part of himself that he seemed so intent on giving me. The sweet warmth brought the pricking of tears to my eyes.

He pulled away, smiling down at me, then rose to his feet. Taking my hand, he helped me stand. He leaned forward a moment, giving me another long, lingering kiss, then tugged me gently back to the bed. There is a difference between sex and lovemaking. The night before we shared an intense, primal sex, a wild mating. This morning he made love to me. Softly and slowly, as if our hours weren't numbered.

I curled my fingers around the back of his head, sinking them into his hair, while he slowly sprinkled kisses on a long, wet path from my lips to the valley between my breasts. His hands came up to cup them, brushing his thumbs over my nipples and softly teasing them to hardness. He twisted his head to one side, resting his cheek on one breast and gently nibbling on the inner slope of the other. I groaned, arching into him, demanding more petting.

He took his time loving my breast, enjoying all of its curves and slopes before moving to the nipple. He suckled and kissed my nipple so thoroughly that the other one was hard and throbbing from the lack of attention. When he touched the tip of my neglected nipple with his wet tongue, I cried out sharply from the sudden heat that shot directly to my pussy.

He shuddered, groaned deep in his chest, then took my lips with a ferocity that startled me, as if he couldn't get enough of me. Mewling in the back of my throat, I arched up into him, kissing him back with my lips, tongue and my entire body, returning the full measure of his possession. His fingers went back to my breasts, plucking delicately at the nipples, then soothing them with long, feathery caresses. Dropping his head back down, he nipped at the inner swell of one breast, then swiped is tongue back over the nipple.

Taking his erection in hand, he brushed the tip of it across the wet folds of my labia. Gently prying with his fingers, he opened the lips and let them settle around the head. We remained that way for an eternal moment, his lips kissing my breast and my the lips of my sex kissing the tip of his. He lifted his head from my wet nipple and locked his eyes with mine. I could see the question in their depths, the burning need to hear the words even before he opened his mouth to ask for them.

"Who do you belong to, sir?" I asked before he could say anything, startling myself and him. The pupils of his eyes contracted, then expanded. His body twitched and I wiggled, gasping in reaction. I had intended to give him the words he wanted, not ask him a question I hadn't even known I wanted to ask. Now that I'd asked it, he would have to answer me, eventually. 

"Wright," he warned. I stared up at him, my eyes clear and implacable. For a moment, he grimly locked his eyes with mine, shadows flitting in their depths. He turned his head away, thrusting deep inside of me in the same breath. We both groaned, melting into the sudden frisson of heat from our joining.

"Who do you belong to, sir?" I twisted my hips from side to side, what little I could move under his weight.

"Don't push me, private," he snarled, thrusting savage once, then twice.

"Don't push me, sir." Measure for measure. I'd be damned before I let him back me down without a fight. 

Something vulnerable flitted through his eyes, almost like an uncertainty, a softening of some sort that I didn't understand. He needed me in a basic way.

"I belong to you, sir," I stated suddenly, knowing how much he needed the words, and admitting how much I needed to say them. Briefly, I wondered what had happened to me. With his erection fully sheathed within me, slowly rubbing in and out unhurriedly, I wondered what had happened. Two days ago I was the me I'd always been. Bold, brash, and taking no prisoners. Now I was putting myself entirely in the hands of the Major, letting him not merely possess me, but to own me.

He had closed his eyes, his forehead pressed to mine, I could see as well as feel him savoring my body. Eventually, he started moving, a long, slow stroking of his cock along the full length of my pussy. His eyes fluttered open, and locked on mine. I could see each delineation in the fringe of color surrounding his deep pupils. "I belong to you, sir," I reiterated fiercely. He groaned again, his eyes closing for a moment, then locking on mine again. "Who do you belong to, sir?"

His jaw clenched and a muscle ticked, he paused a moment in his taking of me, then resumed it with a sweet ferocity that told me wordlessly what I wanted to know. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I accepted what he chose to give me.

Rocking slowly on top of me, undulating his body back and forth with the slow gentle movements of an ancient loving, he pressed his lips to mine and gave me his kiss. Something poignantly sweet passed between us at that moment. Our bodies locked together, joined in the most elemental way, our lips clinging, silently giving something precious to the other. I shivered, suddenly surprised by my orgasm. My body trembled and I clung tightly to him, holding him as I climaxed from deep within me. He murmured something, then stiffened, having his own.

He left me for a while, pulling on his shorts and running shoes again, and went for a long run. He was disturbed, introspective and broody when he left. Odd that I could sense the shift in his mood even though I'd only been with him for a couple of days. It was nearly time for us to leave this cabin, and the end of our time together. With tears once again pricking me painfully at the back of my eyelids, I went about the business of gathering things up and setting the cabin back to rights. Picking up the shredded remains of the beautiful peignoir, I pressed it to my nose, inhaling deeply, the mingled scents of his body and mine flooded my nostrils. Looking around furtively, I stuffed it into my bag, I never wanted to forget these moments that I had with my Major.

I was still naked when he returned, uncomfortably waiting for his permission to don my clothing. It didn't sit well with me still, this submission that I'd agreed to. I wasn't used to needing permission and approval from my lovers, I wasn't used to needing at all. I don't know what scared me more, the submitting or the needing. He stepped into the cabin quietly, smiling a little when he saw me perched on a chair, waiting for him.

"C'mere," he said, holding out his hand. I followed him to the small showering facility and waited patiently while he removed his clothes.

Once in the shower, he wrapped himself around me, cheek on the top of my head, and simply held me. Shutting my eyes, I let myself fall into the fantasy that we would do this forever, him and me, together. That was dangerous thinking, my Major was not for me. After this was over he would go back to his bachelor officer's quarters and I would go to my bachelor enlisted quarters and we would only cross paths professionally.

The tiny hot water tank ran through its supply before I was ready to let him go. Regretfully, I backed away from him as the water began turning lukewarm. He shut it off with a curse while I reached for the soap and a washcloth. Since the washcloth was soaked, it was easy enough to build a rich, thick lather, one that I intended to rub onto him. He silently watched me, waiting to see what I would do, no doubt. Hesitantly, suddenly shy and irrationally fearing rejection, I lifted a trembling hand to the center of his chest, pressing the washcloth over his heart.

His heart skipped a beat and he sucked in a deep breath when I began to scrub. I could feel every plane and angle of his body through the washcloth, his skin burned me through it. I slowly went over his chest, shoulders and back, fascinated with the play of white lather on his tanned skin. His eyes never left me and his fists clenched, a testament to the strength of his desire and the power of his restraint. I felt like I was in a small cubicle with a caged tiger, one that was caged only by his will.

Dragging the cloth down his arm, I reached a fist, which he slowly relaxed. I paused a moment, feeling the sudden overwhelming urge to tell him, or show him in some way how much I'd been touched by him. My lips parted, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, I felt my knees begin to give. Once again, my pride rushed to the surface, I did not kneel before anyone. Somehow, he sensed something. He lifted my head with a single finger on my chin and smiled softly down into my face, then leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips, a little peck that told me it was okay, he understood.

I looked down again, at his feet, then tugged his hand up, pressing the back of it between my breasts, and took a deep breath. He waited, saying nothing and unmoving, for me. I bowed my head, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, then gracefully sank to my knees. In the space of a few heartbeats my submission to him had changed from something he required of me to something I freely gave to him. Picking up the washcloth again, I carefully cleaned each finger of each hand, lovingly stroking each digit before moving on to his legs and feet. Kneading the firm muscles of his ass, I soaped it, then moved around to clean his burgeoning erection.

After I'd finished, I sank back, sitting on my heels, keeping my head bowed, the washcloth in my lap. He twisted the spigots and the water rushed out again, beating over his back. I could feel the coldness under my legs before it began to warm up. He rinsed himself off leisurely, I kept my head bowed, kneeling at his feet, avoiding the over spray. Moments later I heard the squeak of the faucet and the water cut off. Silence, except for the draining water, reigned. I lifted my head, blinking, to see his cock, now fully erect, within inches of my nose. Without thinking, I opened my mouth, curled my tongue around the head, and pulled it inside.

He groaned, deep in his chest, sinking his fingers into my hair. I leisurely sucked the water from his dick and balls, licking it from his thighs and belly before returning my attention to sucking his cock. His hips moved back and forth in time with my bobbing head, until he was moving to fast for me to keep up. I held my lips open, my hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing and stroking it, and let him fuck my mouth.




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 07



Getting up in the morning was pure hell. Somehow, I made it through PT without breaking down. Thankfully, the Major had absented himself. While I showered and dressed in my inspection uniform, I cursed myself for the billionth time. How could I be such a stupid little fool. How could I let something like this happen? How could I let myself get so deep into a man I could never have?

I was angrier at myself than I'd ever been before. The slight soreness in my pussy naggingly reminded me with every step that I'd had the Major's cock inside of it. How stupid. Even dumber was the pain in my chest where my heart was hurting. I couldn't have fallen in love with him, it was too fast, but it damned sure felt like it. Maybe I should put in a 4187 requesting a transfer.

I had a few minutes before inspection, enough time to go down to my office in the dungeon and check to be sure my uniform was presentable, maybe slap another coat of polish on my boots. On my desk was a small, brown, paper-wrapped package. Odd, I'd never seen it before, normally things were shipped to us in boxes, not paper wrapped packages. I sat down and contemplated it. A neatly typed label bore my name and nothing else. Hesitantly, my heart in my throat, I carefully opened the package, revealing a velvet lined box bearing a jeweler's name stamped in gold leaf. Slowly, not daring to breathe, I opened the long box. A gold necklace spilled out like running water, leaving nothing but a note on the silk liner.

I opened the note, my fingers trembling. "Your collar, never take it off. Sierra this time. You are mine." I could hear the Major's voice in my mind, repeating the words that set my heart racing. I carefully folded the note and picked up the necklace. It was a simple gold chain, 24 karat, barely long enough to be hidden by the collar of my shirt, per Army regulations. The mouth of the clasp could either attach to the end, where my shirt would hide it, or somewhere along the chain, to turn it into a choker style necklace. It had single charm on it, a ring like one would find on a collar.

I thought about the ramifications of this gift, what donning it would mean. Accepting it would be a tacit agreement to continue my submission to him. The thought terrified me and excited me all at the same time. I didn't want to give up any of my autonomy, but it was thrilling and felt oddly safe to give myself into his keeping. I stared at the chain in my hand, I already knew the answer. I belonged to my Major. I always would. I put it on, arranging it around my throat so that the barest glimmer of gold was visible above the collar of my shirt. After disposing of the box and note carefully, I hurried to take my place in formation.

I stood at attention hoping that my "hundred mile" stare passed muster. In front of me, my Major inspected my uniform. His gaze lingered on my throat for a moment and the barest hint of satisfaction touched his eyes. He stared at my chest for a moment, my nipples perked right up to meet his gaze. After a few moments intent inspection, he moved onto the next person in line. I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him to come back to me, but forced myself to stand straight.

Silently, I retreated to my office in the Dungeon after we'd be dismissed. I pulled out my Monday morning paperwork and pretended to be absorbed in it. Instead, I thought about the necklace around my neck, the Major, and all of the ugly consequences. Once again, terrifying visions of Club Fed danced in my brain. I went into the storeroom and found a dusty copy of the Manual for Courts-Martial.

There wasn't a specific article for fraternization, it was listed under the so-called "catch all" article, Article 134. Article 125 was also applicable. Sodomy was essentially defined as sex other than penile penetration of the vagina. Penetration, no matter how slight, is enough to complete the offense. I paused for a moment, thinking about the Major's cock penetrating my mouth. My nipples came to attention again and my pussy started getting mushy. I couldn't believe it. The Manual for Courts-Martial was turning me on.

"Wright, what in the hell are you reading?" Mendez's voice lashed at me, making me jump. I slapped the book shut and jerked it into my lap. In retrospect, that activity made me that much more suspicious.

"The, er, Manual for Courts-Martial."

"The what?"

I held the book up mutely. He crossed the room in three long strides and jerked the book from my hand.

"Why are you reading this, Private Wright?" He hadn't used that tone with me since I'd first arrived in the company. I paled slightly.

"I was bored?" A paltry offer of an excuse.

"If you're bored, I can keep you plenty busy." He slammed the book on the table and reached into the collar of my tee shirt. His finger dug the gold necklace up. "You know better than to have personal jewelry visible during an inspection."

"Get your hands off that soldier, sergeant." The Major's voice exploded in muted fury. "You have no business touching her."

Sergeant Mendez, the stickler for military bearing and following military courtesies, lounged against my desk and gave the Major a malignant look. I shrank deeper into my chair. "Isn't that what you should be telling yourself, major?" 

The Major turned purple with rage, a vein on his head stood out. "You're treading a thin line, sergeant. You had better watch yourself."

"You leave my soldier alone, you son of a bitch. I don't want to hear any fucking excuses from you and I don't to want to see you within 20 feet of her. This is your only warning. No fucking officer is going to fuck my soldiers and get the fuck away with it. That girl doesn't need your brand of horseshit."

"I'll do whatever I damned well please, sergeant. Not you or anyone else is going to dictate to me. If you try to fuck Wright or my career with this disgusting innuendo, you will be sorry."

"Don't threaten me, you piece of shit."

"Stop it!" They ignored me.

"Mind your own fucking business, sergeant. I'd never do anything to hurt Wright. You keep up with this shit you're accusing me of and you'll hurt her worse than I ever could. It's up to you, sergeant."

"Fuck you, major."

"Not even on your best day, sergeant."

Their voices had gone from gutturally threatening hisses to progressively louder. Much more and their words would bounce up the stairwell into the main hallway of the battalion. The colonel's office wasn't very far away. I glanced nervously at the door. "Sir, sarn't. Please."

"Don't try me, major."

"Whenever you feel froggy, sergeant, you just go ahead and jump. Until then, mind your own fucking business." The Major pivoted on a heel and stormed from the office.

Slowly, Sergeant Mendez turned to face me. "When are you due to PCS?"

"Not for a while, sarn't. Why?"

"Shit." He sat on my desk and stared speculatively at me. "Don't fuck him again, Wright."

"But I--"

"Don't even try that, private. I know you did. It's only a matter of time before everyone figures it out. You two give it away. He's never made cow eyes at you in inspection before."

"But sarn't--"

"Zip it, Wright. I'm going to make a few calls. You figure out where you want to be stationed at."

"But sarn't--"

"Not another word, Wright. That man is going to get his ass into some deep shit. I'm not going to let him drag you into it. I'll go to Colonel Anderson if I have to."

"Sarn't--"

"He doesn't care about you, Wright. He only cares about himself. You aren't the first enlisted female he's fucked and you won't be the last."

I opened my mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Had I deluded myself into thinking all of it had meant more than it really did?

"Smart move, soldier. Right now no one knows about it but us. I'm going to make sure he can't get near you until we can get you transferred. Put in for some leave, go home for a while. Get away from that man."

"Sarn't, it can't be that bad."

"Don't be any stupider than you can help. You fucked a superior officer in your chain of command. How much worse do you think it can get?" He thrust himself over the desk at me. "It's mild right now, wait until someone else takes a look at you two and figures it out. That necklace. He give it to you?"

"Yes, sarn't," I admitted miserably. My Major couldn't be like that, he wouldn't be just using me. Could he?

"Give it to me, I'll see he gets it back."

"But sarn't--"

"Wright." His tone said it all. Don't be stupid, Wright.

"Sergeant, may I please have a few moments to think about this? Please?"

He eyed me for an interminable moment. I didn't think he would give in. "Sure. I'll be in my office. You stay away from that piece of shit officer."

"Thank you, sarn't." I leaned my head on my desk and sighed. I didn't understand what was going on anymore. The weekend of bliss with the Major prefaced my time in hell. He'd said he belonged to me. Did he mean it?

I fiddled with the charm on my chain and thought about it. I had to find some way to talk to the Major. I knew that if I could just hear it from him, the pure truth, then I would know what to do. Momma always said that what a person does is how you should judge them, in life and in loving. I had to hear it from him.

Sergeant Mendez was on his phone at his desk, looking extremely irritated. I was guessing he was on hold. Keeping my eyes carefully on him, I slipped past his open doorway. At any moment, I expected him to bellow my name, stopping me. He didn't do that. I tucked the box of supplies more firmly under my arm, my excuse, and headed into the company area proper. I greeted several of the NCOs and indicated that I had some supplies for the Major.

I cooled my heels nervously while one of them checked to see if it was okay for me to go in. He nodded and jerked his head at the half closed door. Swallowing reflexively, I knocked and went in when bade to enter. After the requisite number of steps I came to attention and almost saluted. Instead, I broke my military bearing, something that was ordinarily unthinkable, and looked at him. He frowned. "I didn't give you permission to at ease, private."

"I have to know, sir," I said softly.

"Know what." It wasn't a question but a statement, delivered in a flat tone.

"The truth, sir."

"Your guard dog know you're up here?"

"No, sir. Don't evade the question. You owe me the truth, sir."

"About what, private?"

"Were you just using me? Like that female sergeant at your last duty station, sir?"

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking. Mercilessly, his eyes bored into mine. Unflinchingly, I stared back. I saw something there, something regretful and full of pain. Something that scared me. The clock ticked away ominously, second after second crept past while I waited. Finally, his eyes grew cold and calculating. His answer was almost expected. "Yes, private."

"And this, sir?" I lifted my hand and touched the collar of my shirt, indicating the necklace beneath it.

"A trinket. Designed to make you feel special. You've probably never had anything so fine in your life."

I felt like I'd been slapped. "Thank you, sir." My voice was nearly inaudible and almost impossible to force out past the lump of pain in my throat.

"Thanks for what, private?"

"Telling me the truth, sir."

"Anytime, private." He sounded like raw meat over cut glass. "Are we still on for Saturday? I'd like to bring some friends along."

"I don't think so, sir. Sergeant Mendez is talking to some people. I'm going to put in a 4187 to be transferred, I would appreciate it if you'd help it along, sir."

His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed. "If that's what you'd like, private."

"It'd be best, sir." I put the box on his desk silently. "My, ah, excuse to come here, sir." My eyes were pricking again, but I refused to cry, particularly not in front of him. "The necklace, sir."

"Keep it, private."

"It wouldn't be--"

"I said keep it, private. I meant it," he snarled. He jerked his gaze toward the brick wall framed by his windows. "Get out of here."

"But sir--"

"I said get the fuck out of here, private. Don't come back. You're relieved from formation. I don't want to see you again. Ever." His expression was as harsh as granite.

"Yessir." My voice broke on the last syllable. I fled with as much dignity as I could muster, still having the gauntlet on NCO's to pass. I flew past Sergeant Mendez's open door without thinking and charged down the stairs. I ran into the supply room and tried to swallow my tears.

"Wright! I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from him." The door exploded open and Mendez filled it with his fully enraged self.

"I had to know, sarn't. I just had to know."

"Know what?"

"If he used me."

"Well? What fuckin' lie did he try out on you?"

"He said he did, use me. He asked if-- if--" I broke down. "Please leave me alone, sarn't."

"Fuck."

"Please, sarn't."

"I, ah, shit," he muttered, then left, closing the door silently behind him.

Jones noticed that I was weepy, but thankfully left me alone. I couldn't handle questions about it. The next morning I was mad, good and mad. The first opportunity I had, I was going to kill the Major. Heinously.

The anger carried me through the next few days before giving way to hurt again. Between Sergeant Mendez and I, we managed to get my 4187 filled out and submitted to the chain of command. I forgot all about it once it left Mendez's desk. I honestly never believed anything would come of it.

"Wright, let's go. Colonel's office." Mendez stuck his head around the doorjamb. I looked up from my work and frowned.

"What for, sarn't?"

"Your 4187. Let me do the talking."

"I knew it was a stupid idea, sarn't."

We reported to the colonel's office. He wasn't a happy man. "What's with the transfer?"

"Private Wright--"

"I'm asking the private, Sergeant Mendez."

"I have issues with a member of the chain of command that can't be resolved any other way, sir."

He leaned back in his chair, clearly unimpressed. "Issues. We have grievance procedures for that, private. A member of my command is unhappy and this is the first I've heard of it, a request for transfer. The first sergeant hadn't heard of it either. What issues?"

"Personal ones, sir."

"Fill me in, private."

No way in hell, colonel sir. "I'd rather not say, sir."

He considered me for several silent minutes. Next to me, Mendez twitched, dying to say something no doubt. I tried not to fidget while the colonel stared at me. The mulish look was plastered on my face again, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wipe it off.

"Transfer request denied. Until you can give me a good reason to approve it, private, I'll keep denying it. Dismissed."

The Major was standing in the open bay near Staff Sergeant Tilden's desk. He stood straight as we came out of the colonel's office and quietly closed the door. The worried expression on his face seemed to be asking me if I was okay. Almost imperceptibly I nodded. The Major visibly relaxed and offered me a ghost of a smile before turning back to the staff sergeant. Looking at Sergeant Mendez, to see if he caught the byplay, I saw a look of disgust on his face. Glancing furtively back into the office bay, I hoped like hell none of the other NCO's had noticed anything.

Back in the Dungeon I retreated into work. I had no intention of filing a grievance or going up the chain of command. Going down on a certain individual in the chain of command, that was a different story. No matter how badly he'd used me, I still wanted him. And I hated myself for wanting him. All of the anger and hurt that I'd built up against him was also against myself, for being stupid enough to care.

The rumors started the next morning. Overnight I'd gone from company nobody to company bitch. Someone told someone else that I was trying to start trouble for some unnamed soldier in the command, though no one knew what or how. There were speculations as to why and what I might try to pull, but nothing was reported as concrete fact in the rumor mill.

I blamed this all on the Major.

I was glad when Friday rolled around; two days of rumor-mongering had been nearly too much for me. I never knew whispering and questioning looks would be so hard to deal with. It took everything I had not to jump a few people and teach them a badly needed lesson in manners. It was none of their business, whatever I'd done. Sergeant Mendez gave me Friday afternoon off because of it, which irked me even more. Son of a bitch got me into this mess by panicking over what was amounting to nothing and he expected to make it all go away with a half day off.

I blamed the Major.

Raging seemed to be the only way I could think. I wanted to wrap my hands around the Major's throat and squeeze until I felt better. I wanted to do the same thing the Sergeant Mendez and the colonel while I was at it. Right at that moment I wanted to squash out every piece of testosterone laden excuse for a man that existed.

And it was all the Major's fault. 

Instead of going back to my barracks and brooding like I'd originally intended to do, I went to the gym. I could feel the eyes on me in the locker room, but I shrugged it off. Friday afternoons the trail was usually deserted. I tied on my battered running shoes and took off for the solace of the woods.

Pushing myself as hard as I could, I took my anger out on the trail. There was no where else to take it. With the blood pumping through my veins and the clean air growing thinner as I climbed the steep hill, my mind cleared. I did it. I was the one who was stupid enough to go with the Major. I knew better, and, as punishment for my lapse in intelligence, I was hurting. My calves were screaming at me for racing headlong up the side of the hill rather than using the more winding trail. I ignored it and the ripping burn in my lungs from breathing too hard. The pain took my mind off my hurt.

Reaching the top of the hill, it only took a moments decision to keep running. There were two trails, a jeep trail that most runners used and a footpath that wound through the ridges and valleys of the preserve that ran next to the post. I darted down the footpath and pushed harder.

"Private!" the Major roared from behind me. I leaped, almost gazelle-like, straight into the air. I came down, landing on the side of my foot and my ankle gave way. I rolled with it, hearing the sickening crack of something pulling. I landed, once again, at the Major's feet.

I rolled onto my hands and knees, then shoved myself upright. It wasn't broken, but it hurt like hell. I tentatively put my foot down, to see how it bore weight, and winced.

"Goddammit!" he roared, shaking the trees with the force of it. He reached for me, but I shoved him off.

"Get the fuck away from me, sir."

"Shut the fuck up, Wright." He stepped in again, moving to support my weight.

I balled up my fist. "I said, get the fuck away from me, sir."

"Don't dictate to me, Wright. I'm in charge, or didn't you learn your lesson?"

He put his hands on me.

There was still enough room to swing, so I put everything I had into that punch. He didn't see it coming, so it landed squarely on his jaw, rocking his head around. I jacked my fist back for another swing, which he deflected easily. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my wrists above my head in his hands, and his erection grinding into my hip.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch."

"I'd kiss you but you'd probably bite my tongue off."

"Fucking right, you fucking prick."

"I'm going to fuck you, Wright."

"I'm going to bite it off, sir."

He groaned, licking at the sweat on my neck.

"Get off me!" That didn't come out nearly as vehemently as I wanted it to.

"That's it, private. Fight me all you want, don't fight yourself." He sucked my earlobe into his mouth, then rasped his tongue over the sensitive flesh beneath my ear. I shivered against him and tried to swallow a groan. "Ask my permission."




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 08



The jangling ring of the phone woke me up a few hours later. "Hello?" I rubbed my face and tried not to yawn.

"Are you okay?"

I frowned and rubbed my face again. "Sir?"

"Yes. Are you okay?"

I could hear the sounds of people behind him. He was in a store or something. "I fractured my foot, sir."

He muttered something. "What'd they do?"

"Put it in a cast. How'd you get this number, sir?"

"Are you on Quarters?"

"No, sir. Don't call me again."

"Remember the arrangement we made?"

"Arrangement, sir?"

"For the weekend." He sounded a little bit nervous about saying it out loud.

I gave the wall a paint-blistering glare and sat up. "Fuck you, sir."

"You belong to me, private." His voice was pitched low, husky and fervent. 

I met that pronouncement with dead silence.

"And I belong to you."

The tears gathered in my eyes. It felt like my heart was breaking all over again. Gawddamn that bastard. "Don't do this to me, sir. I'm not a toy."

"I need you."

I felt like whimpering. My head pounded. "Stop it, sir." I was ashamed of my breathless, broken voice.

"I can't. Meet me, like we agreed."

"I can't do that, sir."

There was silence for a few moments, then he took a deep, shuddering breath. His voice was as broken as mine. "I understand."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and called myself all kinds of stupid. I would never know what possessed me to give in. "I can't drive, sir. I broke my right foot."

"Oh." He thought for a few moments, I could hear his wheels grinding, even over the phone. "Be in the parking lot in twenty minutes. You pick the spot."

"Sir, that's dangerous, there's people everywhere."

"I trust you, private," he murmured, then quietly hung up the phone.

I found myself in the back corner of the parking lot, by the dumpsters, on the pretext of taking out trash. The Porsche wheeled through the lot, cruising slowly. It passed me once, then drove around again. The door swung open just as he stopped. I slipped inside, scrunching down uncomfortably, and slammed the door shut behind me. He jolted the car with too hard of a tromp on the gas. I had to wait about twenty more minutes before he let me sit up. 

The drive to the cabin seemed to take longer this time. Perhaps it was the anticipation. Perhaps it was the anger. Perhaps is was the fact that my foot was killing me and the Porsche didn't have enough leg room to get comfortable in with that damned cast. 

He parked the Porsche in its usual spot and shut off the engine. I stared at the dashboard and he stared grimly through the windshield. Neither of us moved for an endless minute. The tension was thick as the proverbial pea soup until it almost choked me. I threw the door open before I suffocated and maneuvered my legs out. I fought with the crutches until the Major came around and tried to help me. Then I fought with him over the damned crutches.

The tug-of-war irritated him if his expression was anything to go by. I wasn't that happy about it myself. "Knock it off, Wright. Give me the crutches." 

"I don't need your help, sir." I jerked at the crutches. He yanked them out of my hands and threw them across the grass behind him.

"Shit. Give me your arm, I'll help you onto the porch."

"I'd rather--"

He caught my wrist and pulled me out of the Porsche. It was either move with him and stand on my good foot or fall at his feet. I teetered for a moment, then found my balance well enough to start jerking on my wrist. He ignored that and used his leverage to haul me against his chest and wrap his arms around me. My nose slapped into hard muscle and his cheek tucked against my hair.

Before I could make heads or tails of that, he let go and fetched my crutches. I eyed him suspiciously for a moment before accepting them. What was the man up to? I tucked the padding under my pits and hobbled across the yard to the porch. Negotiating that was a nightmare; the boards were uneven. He hovered behind me the entire way, something that I found wildly irritating.

We both reached for the doorknob at the same time. I slapped at his hand. "I'm not broken! I can get out of a fucking car and I can open a fucking door without you breathing down my neck, sir!"

"That wasn't very ladylike." He might have been telling me the color of the grass with all the inflection he used. 

I picked the couch and sprawled on it, dropping my crutches on the floor without a thought for them. I stuck my cast onto the arm across from me with a grimace and let out a sigh all the way from my toes. He took a seat in the chair near my feet so I couldn't avoid looking at him if my eyes were open. With all the thoughts of the hurt I'd felt in the last week marching inexorably around in my head, the last person I wanted to look at was him. Shutting my eyes was too cowardly, so I settled for staring directly at him.

"How is your leg?"

"It hurts, sir. What the fuck did you think it would feel like?"

"Are you in a bad mood or is it just me?"

I glared at him and crossed my arms under my chest belligerently. How stupid a question was that.

"Look, Wright, I know I said some things that hurt, but I did what I thought was best. We are in deep kimchi over this, soldier. Mendez knows. Someone else will figure it out."

"No one told you to call me, sir."

"I can't stay away from you, Wright. I'm not going to drag you down with me."

"Fuck." I shoved my face into my hands and rubbed it. He brought me all the way out here to tell me we were in trouble. I already knew that. "It's too late for that, sir."

His hand swept over my hair and cradled my jaw. I jerked--I hadn't heard him move--and yelped in pain. "Wright, you need to be more careful."

"I already figure that out, sir." I hated that pouting sound I made. I wanted to snatch the words back.

"If I kissed you, would you bite my tongue off?"

Startled, I met his eyes. I shouldn't let him. "No, sir." Shy. I sounded shy, that was worse than pouting. The smile flashed through his eyes, but I didn't see it on his mouth. His lips slipped below my line of sight and onto mine.

I didn't know what to believe anymore. The perfectly orderly world I'd crafted for myself had spun topsy-turvy and he'd made things even worse. Everything he'd done so far belied that morning in his office. Even his tongue tracing the seam of my lips screamed that he'd lied. But, I didn't trust him. What if those words were the only truth he'd told me? What if he was just using me?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my head away from him. I was no one's whore. "I have to go to the latrine, sir."

"Wright?"

"Latrine, sir."

He heaved a sigh and pulled himself away from me. I closed my eyes. "Wright?" His voice was as heavy as my heart. "Do you trust me?"

Why did he have to ask that? If I told the truth it would hurt him. If I told a lie it would hurt me. He was making me choose. I pushed myself upright, swinging my legs carefully to the floor to buy some time. I maneuvered my crutches into position and hoisted myself to my feet. The dizzying rush of pain from my foot gave me a moments reprieve. But only a moment. I stared him square in the eye, planning some prevarication. I couldn't lie, even if it hurt him, I just couldn't lie to him. I didn't want to see the havoc my honesty would create, so I beat an ignominious retreat to the bathroom. 

You can only dwaddle in a bathroom so long before someone comes pounding on the door. Reluctantly, I flushed the toilet and drew out the act of washing my hands. I could hear him breathing on the other side of the door, feel the caged animal pacing through the thick wood. My tiger was aroused.

I hobbled through the door, refusing to look at him. His eyes slid over me, demanding contact. I watched the floor instead, delicately picking my way to the couch again. I should have stayed in the barracks and nursed my broken heart. I should have done anything else but this.

"Wright."

I decided to demand that he take me home. Maybe I could even get up the nerve to embarrass myself and tell the colonel that I'd fallen in love with a member of my chain of command and sincerely needed to move before there was any trouble.

"Wright."

I looked up, finally gathering courage. I had never seen such naked fear and pain on anyone's face before. He looked like I felt. Hollowed and haunted, his eyes searched mine as if he were looking for a pardon the moment before the execution of his death sentence.

"Sir?"

"I need you, Wright."

What woman could resist that? Certainly I couldn't. Not that and not from him. But the awful fear of manipulation was a pretty strong fighter. Need or need to play with? I rubbed my face, anything to avoid looking into his eyes. "Don't do this to me, Sir."

"Shit."

I heaved a sigh that swallowed a whimper and shifted my leg. The answering stab of pain made it a little easier to bear.

"I had to say that."

"No one had a gun to your head." I used my hands to shift my leg a bit more. "Sir."

"You did."

I couldn't help it. I met his gaze with wide, shocked eyes. "Me?"

"You." He shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. "To protect you." He gave me a look so dangerously intense I swallowed my immediate denial. "No one is ever going to hurt you. Ever. You're mine."

The tears threatened and that pissed me off. "You hurt me!" I yelled. "Sir!"

"I had to." His voice was ground meat. "To protect you."

"Bullshit! You took the easy way out. You used me!"

He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring like a bull's. "You don't trust me."

I clamped my jaws shut and looked away.

"Wright, it's not what you think."

I didn't say anything. My throat locked up around a stinging lump of anger and my eyes felt suddenly dry.

"We could go to jail for this. Dishonorable discharge."

My teeth ground together and the desert behind my eyelids began to throb.

"I thought that if you hated me, Mendez would leave you alone."

I wanted to throw myself to my feet and pace around; I hated being confined to the couch. "I haven't been in junior high for a long time, sir. You could try treating me like I have a fucking brain!"

He glared at me, stone-faced. "It would help if you'd use your fucking brain."

I wanted to hit him, but he was too far away. "All right, sir, I'll use my fucking brain."

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, private."

"Why me, sir?"

"What?"

"Why did you decide to pick me? There's dozens of lower enlisted females around the company that you could have gotten your jollies with. What made me the," I tired not bare my teeth, I really did, "lucky girl, sir?"

That almost shut him up. He surged to his feet, his powerful jaws grinding together, and clenched his fists. "Did it ever occur to you that I just might like you?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Puh-leeze, I'm not stupid. You just don't jeopardize a career and risk going to jail for like, sir. You didn't even know me well enough to like me. You still don't. Try telling the fucking truth."

It was his turn to look away with a dirty glare. "I like you."

Oh my gawd that was fucking weak. "You thought I was a stupid hick and I'd be easy to manipulate. Oh, just tell the dumb, country girl what she wants to hear and she's flat on her back with legs spread and a drooling, come-hither smile. You ain't the first fuckhead to think that and you won't be the last." I gave him a completely contemptuous look. "Sir."

"I goddamned well better be the last!" he roared, shaking the entire cabin.

I cross my arms and stared at the floor, miffed. "You do think I'm stupid, sir."

I could hear his teeth grinding, even from all the way over here. "I don't think you're stupid. I don't like fucking stupid people."

"I don't like fucking assholes, sir."

He shoved his hand through the short hair on his head and stared at me like my father once did when he caught me playing with matches in the barn. I was eight then, and thoroughly intimidated. Now, though, I was just too angry. 

"I got scared, okay? They can really hurt us if they found out."

"Right, sir. Then why did you call me?"

"I had to make sure you were okay."

"Then why did you bring me here, sir?"

"If you hate me so much, why did you come?"

Oh bullshit if he thought he'd turn it around on me. I gave him my frostiest glare; the same glare my mother gave my father when he came home from the sale barn and tried to pretend he hadn't just bought three more horses that we didn't need. The same glare that always melted into a wry, loving, little smile whenever he wasn't looking. Well, fuck if I'd melt. I crossed my arms under my breasts and stiffened my spine for good measure.

Mr. Perfect Manners slumped in his chair and sighed like an old hound dawg dropping onto the porch after a long day. He rubbed his eyes and then stared up at the ceiling. "It was the basketball game."

My mind went blank. Basketball game? 

"First time I noticed you. Anyone ever tell you that you're short, Wright?"

I snorted in disgust. He brought me all the way out here for short jokes. The jerk.

"The only female out there and you're all of five foot nothing and a hundred pounds soaking wet playing the game like you're ten feet tall and bulletproof."

I looked away from him, miffed. "I'm five-one, sir. That's hardly nothing."

I could almost hear him smile. The smug bastard. "You were ferocious. And you weren't very good at it, either. I could've watched you play all day."

I watched him suspiciously, waiting for him to say something wishy-washy about love at first sight or boners or some stupid it-must-have-been-fate line.

"A few weeks later you got into it with a couple of soldiers on the track and ran them into the ground. I won fifty bucks off of that one. At the PX you jumped into it with a specialist who was hassling a female private and ran him off. I've never seen anyone attack life like you do." He dropped his eyes from the ceiling to give me a long, measuring look. "You're little, Wright."

"I am not!"

He smiled at that. 

I sniffed with all of the offended dignity I could muster.

"I thought you had something going on with Mendez for a while. If he'd touched you, I'd have his ass in Leavenworth." He resumed his staring contest with the cracked ceiling. "Then I caught you with that specialist."

Fuckin-A, he didn't have to bring that up.

He sat in silence for a long time before he finally spit it out. "I almost killed him. He was fucking you in the street and I would've cheerfully broken his neck." He paused for a moment, shifting his ass in the chair. "Until you said my name. He was fucking you and in your head you were fucking me."

What?! "I did not, sir!" My head swam dizzily around.

He didn't even look away from his communion with the ceiling. "When you dropped your pants for me in the office, I knew what you wanted. So I took it."

"Took what, sir?"

"The opportunity you gave me." He dropped his eyes to mine and I made sure the frosty glare was firmly in place. "And that's all there is to it."

"To what, sir?"

He gave me an irritated look. "You wanted to know why, Wright. Weren't you paying attention?"

"You picked me because I'm short?!" Oooh.

He didn't laugh, but it was written all over his smug face. "I picked you because you don't know you're short."

Something inside of me melted. Just a little. I frowned at my cast. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"Is it? Then why are you smiling?"

"I'm not smiling!" 

He was smiling at me, though, that rat. He had one of those soft, goofy smiles you see plastered on the faces of those sugary couples who cooed at each other and hung all over each other and irritated the hell out of everyone else with their--

"I'm mad at you!" I yelled, just to feel better.

His smile faded. "I know."

I wanted to throw myself to my feet just so I could pick up one of my crutches and beat him over the head with it. 

"What do you want from me? An apology? You've got it. Blood? I can do that. What? I can't take the words back, Wright."

"Fuck you, sir."

"I can do that, too."

I glared at him with all of the rage in my hurt little heart and tried to come up with something good to say. Something witty, sarcastic, designed to put him perfectly in his place, and make him feel half an inch tall. "I want some fucking chocolate and a gawddamned motrin."

Way to go with the wit, there, Wright. 

He pushed himself up from the chair and went to the kitchen area. He ran some water and brought me a glass and a piece of Army candy. I glared at the horse pill between his fingers as if it were my mortal enemy.

"You can swallow my cock, Wright, this shouldn't give you any trouble at all."

That rat bastard! I snatched the pill from his fingers and drank the entire glass of water to get it down. Did these people not know how to make pills in smaller doses than 800 milligrams? Something evil worked in the pharmacy.

"I've got chocolate sauce and some breath mints."

"What?"

"You wanted chocolate." Even his tone said don't-be-stupid.

I harumphed because I couldn't think of anything better to say and stared at my cast. He stood there, next to me, and watched me stare at my cast. The weight of his eyes on the top of my head was driving me insane. Would he just not go away? I discovered that the harder you try not to fidget, the more squirmy your body gets on you. I wanted to scream.

"Wright." He dropped to his knees next to the couch so his face was even with mine. I stared so hard at my toes that my eyes hurt. "I'm sorry." He picked up my hand and kissed it. "I need you."

That made my eyes hurt even more. I blinked hard and fast, squeezing my hands into fists.

"I never wanted to hurt you."

He looked so earnest, his eyes pleading with me to believe him. I felt like a fish out of water all of the sudden, with the Major on his knees beside me. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to forgive him for everything and just have the world go back to the way it was before it all came crashing down around my ears. I wanted to put my palm on his cheek and smile so I could see him happy. But the pain was too fresh and too harsh. I couldn't make myself trust him. What if he was just using me in some way? He thought I was cute or something as heinously annoying, but what did he want from me anyway? A fuck? A relationship? I almost laughed out loud at that. He couldn't have a relationship with me, even if I were some tall, cool debutante with a few Kennedys in the family tree. I was a private. He was an officer. 

He shifted his weight, his fingers twining with mine, and looked worried. Worried? "Please. Say something."

"Tell me about the female sergeant, sir." I hadn't meant to say that. Had I?

His brow furrowed and his fingers tightened on mine. Something very ugly found its way into my head.

"Tell me about her, sir."

He looked away, his eyelids drooping to shutter his eyes.

I waited expectantly, suddenly unable to tear my eyes away from his face. The muscles along my spine felt like a set of unyielding railroad tracks slowly cracking down on my vertebrae. A few minutes dragged along, running their feet along the bumps in my back.

"I'll be right back," he said. Then he shoved himself to his feet and walked out of the cabin.

I stared, open-mouthed, at the door in pure astonishment. Outside, the Porsche roared to life and then left in a flurry of dirt. Of all the things I'd thought about the man, from the filthiest epithet I've ever tossed in his direction, coward wasn't a word I'd ever used. The major was a coward.

The thought filled me with a rage that would have had me wrecking the place if I could have gotten my crutches under me. I didn't understand why I was so pissed off and I didn't really care to. After a few minutes of solid fuming, I forced myself to calm down enough to stand up. I didn't even stop to think, I just jammed my crutches under my pits and swung myself through the door. 




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 09



"Wright, colonel wants to see you. What's up?" Mendez said, sticking his head through the door. 

There was plenty of guilt written all over my face. "I dunno, Sarn't."

"Keep it zipped, Wright," he warned. 

As if I would just spill my guts all over the place. Right, Sarn't. I'm not quite that stupid, Sarn't. "Yes, Sarn't."

I reported to the colonel with perfect military manners. Well, as perfect as possible on a pair of crutches. I stood as close to attention as I could get and stared at the wall above his head while he regarded me from behind his desk. Shades of the week before and another officer sitting behind his own desk. I mentally shook myself.

"Tell me about Friday, private," he said finally.

I swallowed the temptation to run screaming. I tried for a mild tone, slightly questioning, but completely innocent. As if I hadn't been driven off for an illegal affair with the major in his bright red gigolo car. "Friday, sir?"

"Don't play stupid with me, private."

Keeping my expression as carefully blank as possible, I tried not to fidget. I shifted my weight from one crutch to another and felt inspiration hit. That was probably what this was about. But why would the colonel care? Other than the paperwork, this was a problem for my platoon sergeant or the first sergeant at most. "I was running, sir, and I tripped and broke my foot. I reported to the staff duty NCO and he took a copy of my profile, sir."

"I meant with the major." The air was thick, thick enough to choke on.

Oh gawd. "The major, sir?" I asked in as innocent a what-major-might-you-be-talking-about voice as I could manage.

"Don't fuck with me, private."

Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd! Think, Wright, think. "Well, sir, I'm not really sure what happened with the major on Friday. I was running, and when I tripped, he took me to the TMC because I couldn't walk, sir." 

He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and scanned it. That paper probably held every intimate detail of every intimate moment I'd spent with the major. In lavish detail complete with pictures. So what if it was only one piece of paper and we did enough to fill up four bad porno films? He slammed the smoking gun, the damning evidence, my ticket to hell, what looked like a half page memo down on his desk. "'Fuck off and die, sir,' does that jar your memory? How about 'You can take your Non Judicial Punishment and stick it up your Non Judicial ass sideways, sir'?"

Uh oh.

"Is it your practice to scream gross disrespect at officers every chance you get or do you just do it on Fridays?"

"Well, uhm, sir, I don't usually disrespect officers at all, sir." I'd screamed that? Oh my gawd. I thought I'd been more circumspect. "I don't know what came over me, sir."

"What has the major done about this?"

What hasn't the major done? I tried not to blush. "I, ah, I'm not certain, sir."

"Nothing."

I flinched at the coldness in his voice. He knew. Oh God he knew. He knew, he knew, heknewheknew--

"He said you were in pain and it should be overlooked. What do you think about that, private?"

Pain? I hadn't even noticed it. "I, um, think the major is being very generous, sir."

The colonel's seat squealed as he leaned back in it. I wanted to look at his face, to see what he was thinking, but kept my eyes locked on the wall behind him instead. Military bearing, Wright. Military bearing.

"First you request a transfer, and then you tell an officer in your chain of command to," he referred to the paper again, "'Fuck off and die.' What's going on, Wright?"

I was going to cry again. I could feel it.

"What's your beef with the major? Did he do something to piss you off?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and told the biggest lie of my life. "No, sir."

He stared at me for a while, letting the silence drag out. My nerves were jangling when he finally stood up and came around the desk. He didn't stop until he was in my face. "I don't know what you've heard about him, private, and I don't care. He's a good man and a fine officer whatever the rumor mill says. I expect professional behavior from all of my soldiers, even soldiers like you. I will not have my command disrupted by insubordination and someone thinking she can shake her tits and her ass and get what she wants."

Soldiers. He meant whores. I couldn't help it, my eyes flicked to his. I felt like a butterfly pinned to a dissection dish all of the sudden. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the colonel thought I was pissed off at the major over something sexual. 

"I don't know what your problem is, private, but you'd better solve it. Am I clear?"

I didn't even occur to me to defend myself. "Yessir."

"I expect a formal apology to the major and a heartfelt thanks for his generosity. Today, private. Then I expect you to be the most squared away soldier on the post from here on out. If I even have one breath of trouble attached to your name, I'm going to hang you out to dry. Am I clear?"

"Yessir."

"Your platoon leader will make certain that you're too busy to think of anything more insubordinate than how to handle a mop. You are confined to quarters when you are not in the company area for four weeks effective immediately. If you'd like to take issue with that, you can request a court-martial," he growled. "Dismissed."

I didn't know if what he was doing was legal, but I wasn't about to protest. Instead, I fled. 

The major was standing next to the First Sergeant's desk, sorting through some papers. I let my eyes lick over him for a heartbeat--just long enough to notice the concerned expression on his face--then attached them firmly to the floor in front of me. The senior NCOs unlucky enough to be out in the main office bay were subdued rather than full of their usual hooah grunt snort ambiance. I could feel their eyes all boring into me. It was like they'd never seen a private scuttle away from someone's office with her tail tucked between her legs before. 

Screw dignity. I moved along as fast as I could.

"Private Wright," the major said, his voice cracking at me like another nail in my freaking coffin. "A word, in my office."

I wanted to scream. Maybe jump up and down on the desks and beat on my chest. I didn't need this, not now. "Yessir," I said, trying for a properly junior enlisted tone of voice, and followed him into his office.

"Shut the door, private." He dropped into his chair and stared at me.

"Yessir." I kept my eyes on the floor so I wouldn't have to see the avidly curious expression on the faces outside.

"At ease, private."

I allowed myself to lean more heavily on the crutches, slumping. Please get this over with, please.

"Are you okay, Wright?"

I flinched. "I'm supposed to apologize to you, sir, for my gross disrespect last Friday."

"I know. How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sir." I shifted my weight to my other crutch. "I'm sorry, sir, about my gross disrespect Friday. I shouldn't have yelled at you. It won't happen again."

"Dammit, Wright, I don't care about that. Sit down, you shouldn't be on your feet."

I ignored him. "Thank you for not having me brought up on charges, sir, I appreciate your," I took a deep breath and tried not to choke on it, "generosity."

He sighed and his chair creaked. 

I refused to look at him. "You shouldn't be alone with me, sir. The colonel thinks that I'm looking to get a sexual harassment charge against you."

"Did he say that?" He didn't do much more than a whisper, but it felt like I'd been broadsided by a blast furnace.

"No, sir. He didn't have to."

"Goddammit."

"May I go, sir?"

"Just tell me one thing, Wright. Are you okay?"

I shifted my weight back to the other crutch and scrunched my eyes shut. "I'm fine, sir."

"All right," he said softly. Apparently he didn't believe me either. 

"May I go now, sir?"

The silence was grating, but thankfully short. "Yes, private."

I hobbled out of the office, negotiating my way through the company area without once taking my eyes from the floor. It was just too humiliating to have to look into their too-knowing faces. 

Sergeant Mendez blamed all of it on the major. He referred to him as that son-uv-a-bitch under his breath when no one was listening. He had extra duties for me to do, of course, but they were all clerical. My profile didn't permit me to spend much time on my feet, though I'm sure the colonel would have preferred otherwise. I was too tired to blame the major. It wouldn't have been very difficult to do, since it was all his fault. Mostly his fault. Well, at least half his fault, but I couldn't work up the energy to do it. Instead, I did whatever work came my way without much of anything to say to anyone. The colonel wanted circumspect, I gave him workaholic.

I spent most of my time in the Dungeon. By myself. The supply room was all nice and by itself. My desk might have shared space with everything the entire battalion might need, but at least none of the stuff could talk. It could give you long, prying looks and speculative whispers. There were no conspiratorial come-on-you-can-tell-me grins. Just me, the dust, and tons of the Army's finest leftovers. Even Jones was asking questions. As if I would tell anyone what was going on. And that was the hardest part. I hated being by myself. I loved going out and having fun with friends. I needed people to talk to and laugh with. 

Two Tuesdays later, I was about to pack it in and trudge back to the barracks when the major appeared in the Dungeon. Deep inside, I was happy to see him and that made me mad. I felt like giving him a holy what for that would peel the hide off of him, as my momma like to do with my dad, but the walls had ears and I was in enough trouble. I cleared my throat to get rid of the growing lump. "Can I help you, sir?"

He glowered at me. "Yes. You can quit walking around here like a kicked puppy."

"A ki--, I don't know what you mean, sir."

If anything, his dirty look got dirtier. "You're moping. Pouting. Walking around like someone just shot your pet cat. I won't have it."

Oh my fucking gawd. "It's kind of hard to do that, sir."

"And why is that, private?" He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. I wanted to pick up my clipboard and smash his arrogant face in with it.

"That's between me and colonel, sir. You remember the colonel, don't you, sir? The man in charge of the battalion who thinks I'm trying to fuck you out of a career, sir?"

"Don't take that tone with me, private. It's twenty one hundred hours. The colonel isn't here. You shouldn't be here."

"I have work to do, sir."

"Goddammit, Wright, I'm worried about you."

I crossed my arms under my chest and returned his belligerent glare. "Why don't you yell a little louder, sir. I don't think they heard you at the Pentagon."

"You're still pissed off at me. It's been three weeks, Wright. How long are you planning on punishing me over it?"

I threw him a wide-eyed innocent look. "Punishing you, sir? For what?"

His face turned reddish purple and that was the only warning I had. He was across the room before I could blink and jerked me out of the chair. I swallowed a shriek of outrage and clubbed him behind the ear with my fist. He threw me over his shoulder, unlatched the wire door leading off into the storage area, and carried me off into the darkened piles of army junk. He found a spot in the back by a square support column and leaned me against it. I took another swing at him, which he deflected so easily that it just got me all that much more furious. 

"Shut up, Wright," he snarled.

"I--"

"I said shut up."

"I wi--"

He shoved his lips against mine, effectively shutting me up. He was smart enough not to stick anything, like his tongue, in my mouth, but that didn't stop him from swooping in to conquer. I tried to shove him off, but he leaned into me. I couldn't get enough clearance to hit him with anything he would even notice, let alone respect enough to back off for. He licked at my lips, then sucked on the bottom one. I could feel his penis shoving against my belly. My nipples were so hard, they hurt. I hit him in the biceps as hard as I could to remind myself that I was supposed to be mad at him.

He groaned, low and sexy, rocking his hips against me. He might have said something, but I couldn't tell. His hands dropped down to my ass, squeezing and lifting me more firmly against his erection. I wanted to spread my legs and rub myself against him completely. I reminded myself that I was pissed off as all get out at him, but I couldn't really remember why.

He slid the tip of tongue over my teeth, lifting me higher along the column wall. I opened my legs, letting him between them, letting his cock press against my pussy. I moaned, arching against him, and nearly knocked both of us over. He shifted position, pinning me to the column. One of his hands, the delicious weight of his body, and my legs wrapped around his waist kept me high enough for his lips to trail down to my throat.

"I'm mad at you, sir," I said, just to remind myself. I didn't sound mad. I sounded like I was begging him to fuck me. 

"Should I stop?" he breathed in my ear, then licked the flesh just below it.

I couldn't swallow the moan. "Oooh, no, sir. Don't stop."

"What should I do, private?" He sounded amused. I should be mad about that, I knew, but he sounded hot, too. And I was getting hot. 

"Kiss me some more, sir."

"Where, private?"

I grabbed his jaw and pulled his face back to mine. I could see the gleam of his eyes in the light that filtered from the front part of the storage area. "Right here, sir." I opened my lips and took him, invading his mouth with my tongue. As he had done to me so many times in the past, I held his face still with my hands on his cheeks and plundered inside of him.

He groaned into me, fucking himself against me. I violently wished the pants and everything to be out of the way so I could take him completely inside of me. Where he belonged.

My eyes popped open and my tongue stilled in his mouth. He sucked on it, humming in satisfaction. As if he were right where he belonged.

He must have picked up the sudden hesitation I felt because he backed away, just a bit. He pulled his tongue from inside of me and let his lips fall from mine. We remained that way for a few moments, mingled heat and mingled breath. I closed my eyes and sighed all the way from my toes.

"I'm sorry, Wright," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me the truth, sir." My head lolled back against the wall and he buried his face in the crook of my throat. His hot breath wafted across my skin and I shivered. "Are you playing with me?"

"Still don't trust me?" He didn't sound angry, just resigned. "No. I'm not. I wouldn't be here now if I was, would I? You're dangerous."

I probably should have been incensed over that, not ridiculously pleased. "Dangerous, sir?"

"You could end my career with a tour in a federal penitentiary." 

He so did not have to remind me of that. I opened my eyes just so I could glare at him. "So, why are you here?" 

"I can't stay away from you. That makes you even more dangerous. You don't trust me, Wright," he growled, then licked my skin where my jugular vein throbbed, "but I trust you."

Oh gawd, why did he have to say that? 

His body eased away from mine, letting me slide slowly to my feet. "When you're off quarters, I'll take you to the cabin. I'll tell you about Linda."

"Linda?"

"The female sergeant. You wanted to know about her."

My brow furrowed in instant dislike. "You don't have to take me to the cabin for that, sir."

"I have to take you there if I'm going to get inside of you again, Wright."

I felt the mulish streak bubble up. "I'm not so sure I want you inside of me again, sir." Well, I might have started out mulish, but the thought of him inside of me again made me blush.

He grinned, a flash of white teeth. He took my hand and put it on the tented front of his trousers. I couldn't have stopped my fingers from curling around it if I'd cut them off. I squeezed, just a little, and he rewarded me with a sexy little moan. "Tell me you don't want me to fuck you, Wright."

I opened my mouth to do just that, but nothing came out. I did want to. Right at that very moment if I thought I could get away with it. My hand moved along the length of the shaft, up then down. 

His hand reached down and caught my wrist. "Son of a bitch," he hissed, "stop that. Not here."

I grinned. "You're right, sir. I want to fuck you again. Right now."

He groaned and leaned in for a quick, hard kiss. "Not now. Later. At the cabin where I can strip you naked."

With my free hand, I flipped open his belt buckle and tugged the thin, nylon belt out of it. It jangled when it came free. 

"Knock it off, Wright."

His lips were inches from mine, so I licked them. "You can't go upstairs with this in your pants, sir."

"We can't, not here. Someone might--"

"We're not, sir." I popped open the top two buttons in the camouflage placket of his pants. 

"Wright." A moan. A warning. Nothing but want.

I opened the rest of the buttons and curled my hand over the thin cotton boxers that held his erection to his belly. "Kiss me again, sir."

"Wright," he breathed again, giving in to me. His mouth descended again, covering mine completely.

I fished his cock out, pulling it into the cool, dusty air. He moaned, sliding his tongue inside of me. I wrapped both hands around it, re-familiarizing myself with its length and girth, testing the heat and strength of his intimate flesh. It was so hot, it felt like a branding iron in my palm. The curving shaft was dry, but the thick head was wet and slippery. I wanted to smell him, taste him. Instead, I moved my fingers over the head, spreading the wetness further down the shaft. It wasn't enough. I undid my own pants one handed and shoved them down just enough. I don't think he noticed. I rummaged around between my legs, where it was dripping wet, first with one hand, then the other. I took that wet and spread it all over his cock, soaking it with a part of myself. It made my fingers glide over him so easily.

He groaned into my mouth again, stabbing his tongue deeper into me and then retreating. "God, Wright, I can smell you." I grinned until his lips locked with mine again.

I started at the base of his cock, squeezing and pulled my fingers toward the crown. First one hand, and then the other, moving and twisting my fingers in short, circular patterns, tracing the veins, or just plain straight lines. "I love your cock, sir," I told him.

"Do you?"

I got a little more slippery stuff from my pussy and then changed my grip, this time using the full heat of my palm to stroke him from head to base with a twist of my wrists. He liked that, I could tell. He rumbled something I couldn't understand and swayed toward me. I kind of liked it, too. I liked the way he felt in my hands. I liked the noises he made when I stroked him. I closed my eyes and pictured him standing in front of me, every muscles in his body taut, his head thrown back, and his fist flying back and forth on the length of dick. 

I shifted my fingers again, pressing my thumb into that sensitive spot on the underside just below the head. My fingers splayed on the upper side, then slowly closed and squeezed. In my mind's eyes, I watched him jack himself off, and tried to mimic the motions with my own hand. He went fast, then slow, then fast again for a while. I let my hand take a similar route and speed, timing it by the motion of his hips and the stifled grunts and groans he made. Every once and a while, his hand would swipe over the head, swirling across the crown and then down onto the shaft again. I used the fingers of my other hand to do it, teasing the little slit then spreading over the tip. I swapped hands, so I could get my fingers all wet between my legs again. I spent a few moments, there, teasing my clit and probing the swollen flesh of my opening. I touched a particularly sensitive spot and something incredibly wicked occurred to me.




Breaking Article 134 Ch. 10



My body seemed to know when the major was around before I did. My nipples got hard before I heard him. My stomach twitched before I smelled him. He didn't try to get me alone again, at least not like that. Perhaps he really did think I was dangerous. He never behaved the least bit inappropriately, except with his eyes. He touched me with them. They burned through my clothes and raked over my flesh with a naked heat that never failed to make the most female parts of me quiver. And gawd damn that man for doing it at the worst possible times. Like in formation. Or when I was trying to explain why I walked into a wall to the first sergeant. But he was just so damned cute when he did it. Well, if you could apply the word cute to a man like that.

He was making it hard to remember that I was supposed to be pissed off at him.

The first thing I did the Wednesday the Colonel officially let me off quarters was head straight for the PX, do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars. I went to the small food court outside of the department store and settled in to eat a hot sandwich straight from the source. A month of mess hall food is nothing short of evil. I had my mouth wide open and the sandwich almost to my lips when I spotted the major. He was leaning against a wall, ostensibly looking at a piece of paper, but his eyes were glued to my mouth. There's nothing quite as embarrassing as having the hottest guy in fifty miles catch you with a dripping meatball sub a half an inch from your mouth. There's just nothing sexy about a sloppy meatball sandwich.

I took a bite of the sandwich and tried to pretend he wasn't there. I closed my eyes and savored the spicy sauce. At least I tried to. I opened my eyes wide enough to see that he was still staring at my mouth. Didn't that jackass have anything better to do?

I stared at the sign over the coffee shop kiosk and sucked a meatball out of the sub. I licked the sauce from the bread before it could drip onto the table and pretended that I really did have a great deal of interest in the price of a cup of bad pseudo-Starbucks coffee. My eyes weren't paying attention. They flicked over to the major instead of checking out the price on a double mocha latte. 

That look was on his face again. The intense, burning expression that he'd had when I'd been on my knees in the supply room, my tongue reaching for the tip of his penis to catch a drip of his cum, and my hands full of his most private areas. I shifted in my seat, remembering just how good he'd tasted and how good he'd felt sliding into my mouth. I took a bite of the sandwich, trying to force myself to think of anything else, but spicy tomato sauce rolled over my tongue with the same heat and viscosity as his cum. He shifted his weight, jiggling a little, and dropped the paper in front of his crotch. He was hard. I knew it. Just like that, I wanted to throw myself at him, rip off his clothes, and take his erection into me.

I closed my eyes, bringing up a montage of images. The major diffidently shoving his pants down in the cabin, then standing over me like a pagan warrior. The major in the shower, his head thrown back in pleasure, water dripping down his body. The major in the dusky supply room, fully dressed but for his indecently opened fly and his---

"Wright? Hey, they turned you loose." 

I blinked my eyes, trying to reconcile reality again. Bradford. 

He dropped down into the chair in front of me, setting his headgear on the table next to mine. He flashed me a smile and leaned on the table. "I haven't seen you in a while. I missed you, baby."

I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a thing. Instead, I put the sandwich down and wiped my fingers. "It's been a while." Gawd, I was such a brilliant conversationalist. Stupid, Wright, very stupid.

He stiffened imperceptibly. "You didn't miss me."

"No, no, it's just that it's been a real shitty month for me."

He smiled, relaxing. "Yeah, I bet it has. What happened, anyway? Jones didn't know. No one seemed to know." He suddenly frowned, his voice dropping. "It wasn't that prick major who---"

---was suddenly walking in our direction---

"---caught us that night. I'd hate for you to get in trouble because of me."

"It wasn't anything like that. I yelled at an officer." I hated to admit anything like that, but Bradford looked like he was beating himself up over it.

"You yelled at an officer? Damn, Wright."

I blushed. "Yeah, well, I have a temper."

Bradford grinned. "I love your temper. I gotta get back to the company, but I'll call you later, okay? Maybe we can do something this weekend."

I forced a smile. "Yeah, maybe." 

He squeezed my hand, running his fingers over the knuckles. It was pretty much against regs to have public displays of affection in uniform or he probably would have kissed me. "I'll call you, baby," he said, then left.

I tried to smile at Bradford as he went, but the major was stalking his way through the tables. I considered running for the door, but I didn't think I could outrun him. 

"Private Wright," the major hissed, bringing himself to a halt. I was forcibly reminded of a bull on the neighbors ranch that habitually charged the fence only to come to a sudden stop, dust flying, hot breath searing the air in an enraged snort, and its lips curled in an I'm-gonna-get-you snarl. Just over fifteen hundred pounds of enraged male meat stopped by five strings of insignificant barbed wire had a way of putting the fear of pissed-off bull in a person. 

"Good afternoon, sir," I said as if he wasn't clenching his fists and growling at me.

"I thought I told you to stay away from the specialist." Oh hell no, he wasn't going there. 

"I'm off duty, sir." I kept my voice mild and pleasant, but it was difficult.

"When I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed." He was going there. That fucking jerk.

"Sir, I'm off duty and in a public place." Get the fucking message, sir. "The specialist and I were just having a conversation."

The muscles in his jaw twitched. "Being in a public place didn't stop you last time you mounted him, private."

I opened my fist up one finger at a time and forced myself to relax. I drew in a deep breath and stared at the tabletop. Not here, Wright. "Yessir."

"Good. Now obey a direct fucking order, Wright, or I'll have your ass."

My ass wasn't the one that was going to be had. I ground my teeth and swallowed the fresh rush of anger. If he thought a couple of fucks mean he owned me, he had another thing coming. "Yessir."

"Everything all right here, major?"

Fucking great, the first sergeant. I kept my face down and concentrated on making myself as pleasant as possible. There was no way in hell I was gonna put my ass in a sling over this, this bullshit.

"Everything is just fine, Top." The way the major snarled that sure didn't sound fine.

The first sergeant frowned. At me. "Private Wright giving you more trouble?"

"Not at all."

I gathered my courage up. "Sir, my lunch hour is almost over. I have to get back to work, sir."

First sergeant's frown deepened. I dropped my eyes back to the half-eaten sandwich and wished that the world would just swallow me whole. "Major?"

The major flexed his fists again. "All right, private. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." It nearly choked me to say it. I pulled myself up onto my crutches, careful to avoid looking at either of them, and gathered up the tray. The major's hands made an abortive effort to reach for the tray and the first sergeant grunted. I hobbled away with two sets of eyes burning holes in my back.

What in the hell was his problem? 

The first sergeant stepped into my office a couple of hours later. "What's going on, Wright?"

"I'm checking inventory, First S'arnt."

His version of the don't-be-stupid look came complete with a grunt. "With the major, Wright."

"I'm not certain, First S'arnt."

"Don't fuck with me, private." 

I was getting heartily sick of hearing that particular phrase. "I don't know what's going on with the major, First S'arnt."

"Don't you sit there and fucking lie to me, private. I'm not fucking stupid."

"I don't know, First S'arnt!" I tried not whine. "I couldn't understand what he was saying." Oh my fucking gawd that was lame. I dropped my eyes to the desk and hunched over myself. "I don't know what I did wrong, First S'arnt. I'm trying to stay out of his way and do what I'm supposed to."

"Sit fucking upright, soldier, I don't want to see some gawd damned feel-sorry-for-me bullshit." He was glaring. A glaring first sergeant was a terrifying thing to see. "You didn't understand him?"

I straightened my spine and looked at the wall just past him, like a good little soldier. "He was, well, growling at me, First S'arnt, and it was loud in there."

The first sergeant continued to glare at me. I all but twitched from the urge to toss myself onto the floor and start knocking out pushups. Finally, he grunted again and stomped up the stairs. I waited until I heard his feet stomping through the lobby area before wilting in relief. I did have to wonder, though, why the first sergeant came to see me. Usually junior enlisted were summoned, not visited. 

When I was finished for the day, the staff duty glanced up at me curiously, but didn't say anything. I hobbled outside, as if everything were just peachy keen and the major wasn't planning on sticking his cock inside of me in three days and the first sergeant wasn't sniffing around to figure out how. To make matters that much worse, Bradford was leaning against the wall next to the door to the barracks. He grinned at me when I got there, his face transforming from GI Joe to high school jock cute just like that. I smiled at him for lack of anything intelligent to do.

"Hey, beautiful," he said.

"Heya, Bradford. I thought you were gonna call?"

"I'll do that later. I wanted to see you." He opened the door for me so I could hobble inside. "I was thinking that I could drive you down to the carwash and we could wash your truck or something. You like doing that kind of thing."

And I could just picture the major popping up out of no where. Of course he'd be followed by the sergeant major and maybe the colonel for good measure. And my life would be officially over. I'd be and E1 at half pay for the rest of my unnatural life. "It's been a shitty day, Bradford. I'm gonna stay in and watch TV."

"We could go to the dayroom. I could maybe rent a movie or something."

The CQ, Charge of Quarters, looked up from his desk and frowned at us. "Hey, Wright, staff duty called. You forgot to secure the supply room."

I forgot to secure the supply room? If that wasn't a crock of crap. I didn't even get into the supply room today, the damned place was locked. Not to mention the little fact that staff duty had the freaking keys to the place anyway. Why didn't they lock it up?

"Hey, don't look at me like that, Wright." The CQ crossed his arms over his brawny chest and gave me his best wannabe-drill-sergeant glare. "Staff duty said that if you don't get the supply room locked up, the major'll have your ass."

"The major?" That rat bastard! Oh I was gonna kill him. I was gonna rip him a new---

"That means now, Wright."

"Thanks, Jackson. If they call, I'm on my way back."

"I'll give you a ride," Bradford said.

"I'm pissed off."

"And that means you can't sit on your ass? It's a long walk back to your company." Bradford opened the door and held it for me. "I'll give you a ride, okay?"

That was it. I'd had it. "I'm not fucking broken!" I wanted to stomp, but it's impossible to stomp on crutches. I settled for shoving myself through the door as fast as I can. "Why in the fuck does everyone think that I can't do anything by myself!"

"Goddamn, Wright, what the hell crawled up your ass?"

"If I hear another word out of you, I swear to fucking Christ I'll become a lesbian!" My screech echoed along the street and people turned to stare.

"Damn, Wright, I was just trying to help."

He was just trying. Everyone was always just fucking trying to help. "It's been a month and half, Bradford. Just where in the fuck have you been anyway?" He looked a little taken aback by my anger. I was a little shocked myself, but damn it felt good to just let it go. He wasn't the major, but he'd do.

"Well, you were on Quarters and stuff."

I glared at him and seriously thought about beating on him with a crutch. "And you couldn't call?"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. Most everyone else had lost interest in us when I'd quit screaming, but Jackson was all fucking ears. Bradford shoved his hand through his cropped hair. "I didn't want you to get in more trouble."

"I get it. You're only good enough to call me when you're looking for a fuck." 

"Shit, do you have to be so fucking crude all the time?"

I wanted to cuss him out, but all that came out was a snarl. I pivoted on a crutch and sent myself off toward the company. Wright the Fuck. That's all I was around here anyway. 

"Wait up!"

"I don't have the---"

"Stop." He grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to a halt. "I just found out. We're on rotation. I'm going to Iraq."

I froze, the fresh tirade I was working on dissolving into nothing. Shit.

He stared into my eyes, as nervous and as earnest as I'd ever seen anyone. "We're friends, you know."

"Yeah."

"I always thought there'd be plenty of time, cause we don't, you know, PCS for a couple a years. I got 90 days."

My heart quit beating. Time? "Time for what?"

He let go of me and shoved his hands in his pockets. He stared at my combat boots and dug into the sidewalk with his running shoe. "To see if we could, you know, be more than friends."

I closed my eyes. Aww hell.

"C'mon, Wright, say something." He sounded nervous.

"I don't know what to say."

"Well, say you'll go out with me Saturday then."

I was supposed to be fucking the major on Saturday. How in the hell had my life gotten so far out of control? And how could I stand there and worry about something so trivial as an illegal affair when one of my friends was about to ship out to a war zone? What was I supposed to do? Tell the major to take a flying leap? Yeah right, like he'd do that without throwing a temper tantrum. 

"I don't know, Bradford. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be doing some work this weekend or not. How about Monday night?"

"I got guard duty Monday. Tuesday night?"

"Okay, Tuesday night." I offered him a tentative smile. "We can rent movies or something."

He gave me a broad smile. "Okay."

I felt like such a fucking bitch. "Look, I gotta get back to the company and get an ass chewing. I'll catch up with you later."

"I'll call you Friday, see if you're gonna be free this weekend."

"Okay."

"You sure you don't want a ride?"

I shook my head. "Nah, the hobble is good for me. It's not really that far anyway."

"I could go with you."

"No 'fense, Bradford, but the last thing I want is an audience to a butt chewing."

He laughed and pecked me on the cheek. "Okay, I get the hint. I'll see you later, babe."

"Yeah."

He headed up the street, whistling. I shook my head again, wondering how in the hell I'd gotten into this situation in the first place. Oh yeah, I'd belted the major in the stomach. Looking back at it, I should have enjoyed the experience.

The staff duty NCO turned out to be Kowalski, the sergeant from Delta Company that I'd managed to land on the bad side of. He bitched me out for thirty minutes, going from one end of the regulations to the other and finally topping it off with a tirade about the enemy. I did my best to stand there at attention while he did his best Chesty Puller impression. I started paying attention when he started winding down. He ended his package with a snarled, "Hurry up and get your ass down there and help the major. He's doin' your fuckin' job for ya!"

The major. Well wasn't that just a surprise. I yelped out a "hoo-ah, Sarn't!" just to placate Kowalski and scuttled down to the Dungeon. Scuttling on crutches is actually easier than scuttling on two feet because you're already naturally hunched over. Kowalski grunted in satisfaction. You could almost hear the gears in his brain grinding: another well-executed ass-chewing.

The major was kicked back at my desk with my clipboard in his lap when I made it to the bottom. I hobbled over to the mesh door that the major had, no doubt, opened up himself on his inspection of the supply room and secured it.

"What'd Top say?"

I narrowed my eyes and concentrated on putting my keys back in my pocket. No how are you. No are you okay. No sorry about this afternoon. "He wanted to know what your problem was, sir."

"What'd you tell him?"

"That I couldn't understand what you said. It was loud and you were growling. He seemed to accept that, sir."

He grunted, swinging his feet to the floor and sliding the clipboard onto the desk. "Good. Come here."

Fuck that. "What for, sir?"

He grinned, his face lighting up with an almost irresistible sort of mischief. Almost. "I'm going to make you feel good, private."

"Oh yeah, sir. Being your slut makes me feel real good." 

His face turned a dark red and he crossed his arms over his chest, making all of his muscles bulge beneath the suddenly tight camouflage. "I didn't hear you correctly, soldier."

"Momma and Daddy are gonna be so proud of me."

"What in the fuck is your problem, private?"

I glared at him. "What do you want from me, sir?"

His face relaxed and the self-satisfied smirk returned. "I want you, private. I thought I made that clear."

"So I'm your personal fuck buddy, sir? And this goes on until when? You get tired of me and move on to the next private that catches your eye? Or will you go after a specialist next time?"

He huffed in irritation. "Didn't we just do this, private?"

I glared at him.

He studied my face for a moment, long enough for several things to flick through his eyes before he settled on softening up with a patronizing smile. "You always run this hot and cold, private?"

Ooooh. So now I was back to being cute again. I flung my body at him, dropping a crutch and bringing up my fist. I might even have connected if I hadn't tripped over the stupid crutch. He reached out and snagged me out of the air, pulling me into his lap. I think I would rather have hit the floor. "I'm not a toy. I'm not something to play with. You don't own me, sir."

"God, Wright, what am I going to do with you?"

I opened my mouth to tell him to let me go, but nothing came out. I didn't want him to let me go. He was holding me and whatever was wrong just didn't seem so important anymore.

He pressed a kiss to my temple, like an older man would to a child. I wrinkled up my face, feeling the resentment rebuilding. "You belong to me."

I chose to ignore that. "How long do you plan on carrying on with me? Until we're caught? One of us PCSs? Or do you see marriage, a picket fence, and 2.5 kids?"

He froze as if he'd just caught a glimpse of the second circle of hell. Yeah, thought so.

I stared at my fingers and told myself that I was angry. "I don't want to be just someone to screw. Not for anyone."

He squeezed me against his chest. "Damn, Wright, it's not like that. It never has been."

I pushed my face into his throat and sucked in a deep breath. "That's not what it looks like from here."

He sighed, a long inrush of air that swelled his chest, then huffed out across my head. "What do you want from me, Wright? You want me to tell you---"

"Sir? Everything all right down there?" Saved by the Kowolski.

The major jumped to his feet, almost dumping me onto the floor. He eased me down to my good foot and went for my crutches. I beat him to them, but not by much. I tried to jerk one of them from his hands, but he was strong enough to force the issue.