by J. S. Wilder
Their future in the BNU means they only need three uniforms in total, one for each event, and each girl labeled with a number from one to ten. That’s all they’ll be known as until graduation. After their time here they'll get a different name, once they’ve earned it. For now, they’re nameless, but not faceless to me.
“Ladies, today’s your second day with BNU. Congratulations on all passing the orientation, you should feel fucking proud of yourselves. You don’t need clothes, you need uniforms.”
“What is this, prison,” Ms. Watson questioned as she tried to cover something or everything with her two hands. She’s really got me going; her temper’s driving me wild.
“Hell yeah, but really, what did you expect? If this were a fuckfest you wouldn’t have had to apply. Your uniforms are numbered from one to ten. They consist of three colors, and at the back it states what the uniform is for, in case you forget. Pick one number and when you go in the cabin you’ll see the same numbers. Match them. That’ll be your home for the next four weeks.”
They start running round like chickens to grab a uniform off the table. I look at them, confused. It didn’t signify a better spot in the cabin or anything. They’re given bunk beds. Some raced to the cabins after grabbing their uniform, either shouting or sighing about their choice.
“Shit, I got the lower bunk! You mind swapping? I hate being underneath.” The redhead asks number three, the little Asian. Questions and statements are being thrown left and right, feeding my asshole alternate ego.
“Sure, I don’t mind,” she replies and then gets on top. She follows by opening her legs, wide, so I can see her pussy. She’s a fucking tease. No guessing there.
The rest of them find their beds, their new homes and try and make it comfortable. The crazy part is that none of them attempt to put their uniform on. It’s almost like they get a kick out of being naked.
One uniform’s for fitness training, another for sexual education, and the final one is my favorite, general lessons. Shit, that’s what I call the last one. I try and mix it up a bit. The past ladies on the program thought they knew everything. Giving them quizzes lets them know they don’t know shit!
I love the first day of boot camp. It’s the first day I get the see the ladies. Before then, they’re just ten faceless women on my agenda. After today, they become the women I’m going to fuck in four weeks’ time. Anticipation is the best fucking emotion there is.
I’ve got a real mixture in this group: Latinos, African-Americans, Caucasians, and a delicious little Asian lady in the far end, hiding away.
Shit, one thing I really want to do to her is to take her over my lap and spank her in front of the rest of them. I’m not sure what’s up with my cock and Asian women. They’re my favorite desert, there’s nothing like a bit of continental to get the blood boiling.
The African American hotties have boobs that are full and round to perfection, making me want to suck those nipples until they’re perfectly pebbled. They’re already hard and erect while they both keep their eye on me. The nipples are what get me going, though. Maybe not being breastfed as a child makes me feel deprived.
The red head has a figure that most women would want to beat her down for. She’s six one or so, has legs that run for miles, and hair that flows down her back like fire. To top it off, she has emerald green eyes that seem to shine in the sunlight.
Yep, I’ve got a good group. Then again, I always do. Tina knows how to get my interest going. She loves mixing them up. There’s nothing like a bit of competition to get bitches active. She always reminds me. Hell yeah, gets the assholes like me going too!
I know how to fucking please a woman. I need their full attention to give them pleasure. Men need to listen to a woman, observe her in and out of the bedroom. A woman that loves to wear short skirts and shows her ass needs to be touched. That’s her ultimate pleasure. She flaunts her body, because she wants hands all over her, desiring attention.
That’s not what turns her on.
There are other ways to touch a female, and not only by using your hand. My tongue is strong and thick, a lot like my dick. I can touch a bitch by lightly using my tongue to form a coat of saliva over her, and then she drips it off with sweat when I fuck the life out of her.
At boot camp, they’re taught how to give a blowjob and so much more. That may seem simple, but so many girls do it wrong. Women need to learn how to suck properly, deep and hard, as well as how to get into it and get turned on by it. They think using their hand does the trick, but that’s cheating! Why have someone else do what I can do myself better. My hand can reach down there, why the fuck do I want a bitches mouth down there if she’s just going to use her hands.
I can’t stand cheaters. The key is to give satisfaction not take it. They need to train and practice how to do it right, or my camp’s a lie.
These women come from all over. If they live in Chicago, after boot camp they return home until the graduation party. The rest just end up at hotels near the gym. I’ll weigh them every day to make sure they stick to the food plan, if not they’re out.
I can’t stand women who don’t fucking listen. It’s all about control. They get told what to do not the other way round. If I tell a woman to eat this and she decides to eat something else, what good is she in the final room with me? I’ll tell her to suck and she’ll use her hands.
“Get back outside in a line,” I scream as I blow my whistle to get their attention. All eyes are now on me. They need to know the drill, and that I’m not fucking playing. Well, not yet anyway.
“You signed an agreement when you started. This isn’t a fucking joke. I don’t play.” I pace back and forth between them; taking in their body shapes, aromas, and a few of them I can sense their wetness. The smell of pussy is in the air. They’re really turning me on.
I sigh and take a deep breathe, “You came to be schooled by me, coached by me, and more importantly fucked by me.”
I stop in front of the African American lady. I twist her hair in my fist while looking dead into her eyes. Her nipples are hard. I stare at them for a brief second, imagining my mouth enveloping the areole, gently flicking my tongue over the center. I exhale and inhale as I move on.
“You’re here to learn. I don’t give a fuck why, but it’s all about my reputation. I need it to be clean. You do what I say and when I say it. No asking dumb ass questions. Understand?”
They nod reluctantly apart from the redhead who is nodding her head like a bobbing doll, ready for action.
“At the back of the cabin there are sneakers, climbing shoes, and flip-flops, all with your sizes. Take one for each activity. This afternoon, we’re starting with fitness training. Wear the right uniform. As I said before it’s labeled on the back, FT, so you’ll know which one is which. Ditch the shoes you have on and meet me back here in half an hour. There’s a big clock on the wall. Don’t be late!”
They all run back to their cabin like headless chickens, except the red head. No surprise there. She takes her time walking and strutting her stuff. Shit, she’s going to be trouble. I bet she’ll be one of the hungry bitches that’ll try and sneak into my cabin at night.
I watch them make their way. With the help of the driver, I put their stuff on the bus and then signal to catch up with him in a couple of days when I need to go back to the gym.
I make my way to my cabin across the field from the ladies. I’ve spent my life being told by my mom that I’m not worth shit. Having an unlimited quantity of women lust after me tells me I’m worth more.
I’m appreciated.
I’m desired.
I’m fucking worshipped.
I give women what they need, not what they want. They think they need to be loved and caressed in bed!
Fuck that!
I pump their ass. Some of them have never had orgasms, until they fucked me. I turn them on sexually at my command, which is why I spend four weeks teaching them at boot camp. This is my haven, the place where it all happe
ns.
During the four weeks they’ll take circuit, global, upper arm and lower body training; a session in the morning, afternoon, and night. I’ll train them hard, making them sweat, knowing that at the end of the four weeks they’ll be wet with my hands, tongue, and more importantly with my cock in every hole they possess.
Sexual education is Kama Sutra in a nutshell. I teach them every fucking position under the sun. Also, I give them all they need to know about BDSM and their options to explore that field. Walking round a sex store and seeing objects is one thing. Knowing what to do with them is key.
Sunday is their rest day. No classes, no training; simple chilling out in the spa. I don’t mind the women getting acquainted. They all know they’re going to graduate if they behave, so that’s what they do. Chill. Relax and most importantly enjoy.
I train them three hours a day personally, but at times I need to slip back to the gym and I get a trainer to do a couple of days with them. I can’t be with them the whole time; too tempting.
I need them to be able to perform two hours a night in the famous room. They love that room. Shit, it blows their minds when they step in there. It´s a world most women dream about and only a few have the pleasure experiencing.
Their final week they’ll slip out of here two at a time. The first recruits are decided by their performance during the three weeks. Some graduate early, whereas others have to wait. They each have an hour to get their adrenaline going, then, an hour of rest before their big night.
Two hours to rest until the first bitches graduate.
Two hours to have a smoke and rest.
Two hours to fuck their brains out.
Shit, I can´t wait.
More importantly, neither can they.
Chapter Three
Monday morning, the start of a brand new day; first official start of boot camp the previous day was a warm-up. The girls are having breakfast, so I’ve got a little time to just jump in the shower. I don’t feel like eating this morning, because I had a rough night.
My cabin has a king sized bed and closet, as well as a couple of weights and a desk so I can plug in and connect with Tina. The girls may not have access to the Internet, but I do. The room’s nothing fancy, but I’m a simple guy so material things mean nothing to me.
Last night, I heard quite a bit of noise outside my room. First, I thought it could be wild animals or something, since we’re in the middle of nowhere, so I kept checking outside and saw nothing.
Shoot, did someone try and break in here last night or what? There are pins at the doorway as if someone tried to pick the lock. I’ve got security walking up and down throughout the night, so maybe they got startled. I open my door and sure enough there are more pins.
They were supposed to leave their purses in the bags, so I put them in the bus. How did they get pins? Shit, some women are just plain stubborn in their ploy to get what they want.
They’ve all they need in the cabin: hair bands, dryer and shampoo. I don’t remember there being pins. Maybe there is, cause I’m not the one who sorts out their rooms. Tina does that shit. I’ll ask her if she puts pins in there. If not, I need to go through their rooms while they’re in one of their sessions to see what else they managed to sneak in.
I lock my door, hop in the shower, change, and get ready to have the first official training session. The alarm goes off at seven, as it will for their entire stay. They have thirty minutes before they line up in their uniforms, ready to go.
As I make my way outside where they’ve formed a line, I’m in heavenly shock. They are standing in numerical order. What the fuck?
Both number three and seven are butt naked. Shit, did they go to breakfast that way? I don’t give a fuck. I contain my anger and carry on like I haven’t noticed. I march up and down in front of them like I’m their sergeant and we’re in the fucking army.
I guess they think they’re smart. I laugh to myself. I’m going to make them pay for not listening to my instructions. This is my camp and I’m not taking shit. Theirs schedules are up on their wall in big bold letters, so they know what to wear and when.
“Good morning ladies. First, we’re going on a three mile jog through the woods.”
Some of them gasp. Number three’s hair looks like it’s on fire. Some of them look like natural joggers, so they should be able to keep up. Let’s see if number seven, the African-American, can keep up with her big tits bouncing up and down…or the redhead number seven. Nope, they don’t even ask for a minute to get changed. They’re going to regret it.
I jog in front of the line in silence and they keep pace. As soon as we leave, number three’s holding on to her tits, slightly embarrassed. Shit, this is so fucked up. The redhead is jogging like she’s in the hit movie Gone with the Wind or something similar. This shit’s unreal.
“Continue,” I shout as I slow down and let them pass by me. Number seven’s holding her tits, running by, completely ostentatious, by smiling while trying to hold on to them for dear life. Number eight shouts out, “Serves you right!” There must have been a discussion about it earlier. Shit, that’s not my problem.
Once we get to the trenches number seven, eight, nine, and ten look like they’re going to die. Not only are they exhausted, but they’re also wailing like whales. I give them a minute to catch their breath. Some of them look like they need to lie down.
“Ladies, you need to get used to this. Every day is going to be tough.”
Yes and no. I purposely made their first day the toughest ever. They were supposed to go on the run, but not all the way to the trenches. I figured that some of these women had other ideas, so I switched today’s program around a little. Sometimes, you need to be flexible, especially with these bitches, going on like they’re tough and shit.
“Mud? Mud! Are we? Do we? Mud,” number seven kept screaming, over and over again. Some of the ladies start to panic. She’s fucked up. Mud will be right up her ass and round those big tits, serves her right for coming out naked.
“Did you not read the program,” number six, the pretty Asian asked. “It clearly said fitness program, boot camp, trenches, and classes. What did you think? We were going to do all day, Pilates?”
Number six has her hand on her hip and looks as sexy as hell when she speaks. She has a soft voice that even when she shouts, sounds more like a squeak then a grunt. Unlike number ten, she is your typical all American girl. She looks like she could knock most of these women into December. She has long legs. Shit, she is nearly as tall as me. Her hair is blond and long. I remember the length from yesterday. Today, she has it tied up in a pony, ready for action. She has the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a woman and the deepest blue eyes.
“What the fuck were you two thinking coming out naked today?” Number two blurts out, I’m going to have to turn up the asshole dial, because they think I’m joking, obviously.
Shit, now World War three’s going to start.
“We’re starting now. Line up in pairs. My assistant Carl will meet you on the other end.”
They start to line up in numerical order. All looking at each other’s shirts. Bitchy comments start flying left, right, and center. I’m getting pissed and I was getting fucking annoyed as hell.
I blow the whistle signaling the start and they ‘re off. Number one and two start walking through the mud slowly. I huff. I don’t have time for this shit.
“SPEED is key,” I scream while they’re taking their sweet ass time. They’re gasping and trying to make sure their hair doesn’t get wet, which is near enough impossible if there’s a big fucking log in the way. The only way to get past it is to either go under or over it and it’s guaranteed at minimal that their hair will get wet. I try not to laugh as they get to the log and stop, puzzled about how to continue.
“Forward, or you’ll do it again!”
They both scream. Number one goes under, screaming before she holds her breath. Number two slowly climbs on top of it, but with number one moving
the log as she goes underneath it. Number two falls into the mud and cries like a baby as she makes her way to the net.
I blow the whistle a second time for the next pair to start. Now, this is going to be interesting, because number three is naked. I strive to concentrate on everything but number three with her nakedness running through the mud my cock starts playing tricks on me. She embraces the situation and I admire her for making more of an effort than number one or two, who are still stuck half way up the net.
“The first four have to repeat the whole thing. I’m not taking this shit. It’s a fucking boot camp, not a beauty pageant.”
Speed and adrenaline take over them and they start racing for their lives. I watch as number three arrives at the net. I thought she would start crying when one of her nipples got burned by the rope. Her body’s covered in mud, but she keeps striving forward, unlike when I blew the whistle and it was number seven’s turn.
Number seven can’t stop crying. She’s covered in mud, clinging to the log, and holding onto her breasts. Her tits are so big they get stuck in the net as she climbs towards the top. I shake my head as I walk over to go and fucking push them out. Shit, she’s dumb.
They finally reach the other side of the course, and Carl looks like he wants to die from laughter. The women do, but from exhaustion. I pick up the hose and spray them down with cold water. “Again,” I command.
They stop and gaze at me. Are they fucking deaf?
“Again!”
I’m waiting for number seven to complain and quit. Fuck, I know she wants to. Her pride or something stops her. Regardless, I don’t play around. Maybe now they know I’m serious. They’ll never think about playing any more shit again. Stop. Look. Listen.
Chapter Four
“Ladies, now we’re on to the fun part; sexual education.” Number seven looks like she wants to push me to the side and start taking over the class she’s so excited.