Megan O’Malley had flaming red hair, the face of an Irish angel, and the body of a Playboy centerfold. She was so embarrassed by her sexy, big-breasted, curvy hipped, round-bottomed body that she had joined a convent when she was nineteen to escape the leering eyes of men that seemed to follow her whenever she walked down a public street. She had been forced to leave the sisters when the Mother Superior offered to engage in forbidden Sapphic delights with Megan. She ran from the convent straight into an Army recruiting station, and from there was shipped on the High Point after a short two-week stint at a boot camp near Lake Placid.
She was shocked at the filthy language used by the instructors, and more at the casual brutality with which they handled the young women. But the hardest thing for her to bear was the attitude towards nudity. Almost the first thing she saw when she arrived at the Academy was a young woman being forced to pull down her pants to offer her naked posterior for a beating by the platoon Sergeant. After that, she was ordered into the showers with twenty-nine other naked young women. She had been able to overcome her distaste for disrobing in front of other women to the extent of being able to function in the Army, but it still made her uncomfortable.
But she reached the limit of her tolerance when right into the shower room filled with naked young women walked two men, the Company Commander, a Captain Salter, and platoon Sergeant Miller.
The Sergeant shouted “Attention!” and the entire platoon snapped to as one, all, that is, except Cadet Megan O’Malley. She clutched her towel and screamed at the two men, “Get out! This is a women’s shower. There are no men allowed!”
The Captain and Sergeant turned to stare at Megan as if she was some sort of dangerous lunatic.
“Were you addressing your Company Commander just now, cadet?” the Sergeant asked as if he did not credit the evidence of his senses.
“Yes, of course,” Megan replied. The other cadets looked on in helpless dismay at what was about to happen to the cadet. “This is outrageous, illegal. I am going to write to my Congressman about this place. You can’t …”
Her righteous tirade was brought to a premature and sudden end when Sergeant Miller, having assured himself that he was not in fact hallucinating, stepped close to the nineteen year old, and drove his fist deep into her solar plexus. Megan’s world exploded in a fireball of agony. The beautiful redhead folded in the middle like a carpenter’s rule, and collapsed to the floor. She curled into a ball, turned red in the face, coughed and vomited up her lunch.
The Captain moved to stand over her, and looked down at the writhing figure impassively. “Cadet,” he said, indicating Merry, “please place this individual’s hands behind her back in this restraint.” He reached into his pocket and removed a loop of nylon webbing with a Velcro seal. He slipped the toe of his shoe under Megan’s back, and flipped her over with his foot, so that she now lay face down on the tiles.
Merry was horrified at what the Sergeant had done to the brave but foolhardy girl, but she saw no choice except to obey the Captain’s command. She knelt on the tiles beside Megan, crossed her wrists on the small of her back, and opened the loop and closed it around Megan’s wrists. Megan was still so busy trying to start breathing again that she hardly noticed what was happening to her hands.
“While you’re down there, put this in her mouth,” the Captain said, when Merry had finished. He dropped a metal ring with a leather strap into Merry’s hand.
Merry looked at the ugly thing, turning it this way and that, trying to understand what she was supposed to do with it.
“It’s a ring-gag, cadet,” the Captain said impatiently. “You put it in her mouth in a vertical orientation. Do you need me to install it in your mouth so you will know how it works?”
“No, sir,” Merry replied hastily, “that won’t be necessary.” She turned the semi-conscious Megan on her side and bent down to her head.
“Try to relax when I put this in, so I don’t break any teeth,” Merry whispered to the girl. She seemed to understand, at least she nodded, and did not offer any resistance when Merry opened her mouth and forced the big ring in past her front teeth. Merry quickly looped the strap around the back of the cadet’s neck and rose to her feet.
“Very good,” the Captain told her approvingly. “Sergeant, if you will?” he asked, gesturing to the girl on the bathroom floor.
“My pleasure, sir,” Miller said. He reached down with one meaty paw and snatched a handful of Megan’s crimson locks, which he used to pull the naked girl, screaming, to her feet.
“Follow me, cadets, on the double,” the Captain said, quickly starting out of the shower room. The women hurriedly snatched towels to cover their nudity and trailed their Company Commander through the barracks and outside. Megan accompanied them, aided by the Sergeant’s iron grip on her mane. She advanced in leaps and bounds, making agonized cries as she tried to prevent her hair being torn out by the roots as the Sergeant led her swiftly along.
They stopped in the small, square field bounded by four barracks and the Company Commander’s quarters and office. This was the ‘B’ Company assembly ground, intended for the use of the four platoons in the company that were housed in the surrounding barracks.
“Form up, two lines facing me, at attention, cadets,” the Captain barked.
He stood next to a wooden object that resembled a utilitarian carrousel horse. It had a horse-like head at one end, and a stiff tail that stood straight up at the other. There was a wooden saddle in the middle, with stirrups below attached by adjustable cables to the sides. Upwards from the saddle projected a pair of short, blunt shafts made of some shiny, slippery-looking plastic material. The shaft that was closer to the head was noticeably wider and longer than its companion.
“Cadets,” the Captain said, after they were in place, “I want to introduce you all to ‘Ruffian’. She and her sisters in the other cadet companies represent the revival of an ancient Army tradition: the return of the cavalry. This cadet…” he indicted Megan, who stood tearfully beside him now, Sergeant Miller holding her erect by her hair, “will be the first, although almost certainly not the last of you to ride Ruffian here. Saddle her up, please, Sergeant.”
Miller lifted Megan under her armpits and over the horse with effortless ease.
“Put your feet in the stirrups, cadet,” he told her. When the terrified girl did, he quickly strapped her in. A cable connected the two stirrups. Turning a small handle, the Sergeant shortened the cable, which irresistibly pulled Megan’s feet higher and closer to her thighs, and obliged her to sink lower onto Ruffian until the two plastic probes began to penetrate her fore and aft. She struggled and screamed, “Ah a urin!” looking pleadingly at the Captain, who raised his hand and said, “Halt for a moment, Sergeant.” He looked closely at Megan. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re a virgin?” he asked the weeping girl.
She nodded vehemently, and said, “Ech err, ah ahh!”
“You won’t be after this,” he told her. “It wouldn’t really make much difference in the long run, anyway. You’ll find out in a few days,” he assured her. “Proceed, Sergeant,” he said.
Megan made an agonized, despairing wail as she sank lower and the slippery, stiff rods painfully breached her virginal apertures. When he was finished, her heels were pressed up against the backs of her creamy thighs, her knees pointing almost straight down, her pussy and bottomhole impaled on the dildos. The Sergeant now lifted her bound wrists upward until they were higher than her head, forcing her to lean forward and down on the penetrating phalluses. He attached her wrists to a ring near the top of the tail. She shrieked continuously during the entire process.
The Captain moved close to the suffering Megan and slapped her in the face a few times. “Silence, cadet,” he told her. “I want you to hear this. All of you listen carefully,” he said to the assembled platoon.” He removed a small, leather-bound book from his jacket and held it aloft.
“This is the Uniform Military Code, and it contains the law
s that govern all of us,” he said in a loud clear voice. “You all have taken American History in high school, and you should already be well aware that under the Constitution of 1817, the mission of protecting this nation from its foreign enemies was made the first task of the government, and the military was thereafter made supreme over the civil government.” He turned to Megan. “I say ‘should be aware’, because apparently some of you think that their Congressman…” he made no effort to disguise the contempt with which he spat out this word, “…has some ability to interfere with the course of military discipline.”
He now placed his hand under Megan’s jaw, lifting her chin and forcing her to look directly at him. “Let me put you straight, cadet. Your Congressman does not have the slightest power here, nor does the President. The Military Code is the supreme law of the land. I could order you whipped half to death, and I would not have to explain why to you. Under these laws…” he tapped the little book, “…I could shoot you dead, and indeed, under certain circumstances, such as cowardice or insubordination in the face of the enemy, I would be required to do so, and I would only need to explain the necessity of that action to my superiors, and to no one else.”
He paused. “You have been a very naughty girl, cadet, and your actions today could have subjected you to a court martial, after which you would sent to stand in the corner for twenty years to life in a military prison. I am treating you with mercy in this instance for two reasons: first, because you are new to the Academy, and relatively new to the Army; and second, because you will provide an object lesson for any cadet in the company who has the least doubt about what her superiors may or may not do with her. You will remain here until reveille tomorrow morning, so that you can be seen by the entire company at evening and morning line-up. After that, you will be given the opportunity to make amends for your error. Do you understand, cadet?”
“Ess er, ah orry,” Megan said urgently. “Lees leh ee ow!”
The Captain produced a black rubber disc from his pocket. He lifted it to Megan’s face, and fitted it into the ring that held her mouth so obscenely wide. She was now effectively silenced.
“You will be given an opportunity to apologize in the morning,” he told her. “Sergeant, please administer ten strokes, front and back.”
Megan’s eyes widened in horror as Sergeant Miller smiled, removed his crop from his belt and raised it over lush, vulnerable body...
Readers who wish to communicate with Commander Bondage can contact him at: [email protected]
Cadet: The Academy Page 11