How Bad Girls Learn (The Institute: Bad Girls Book 4)

by Emily Tilton

Roberto and Jose eagerly obeyed the commands as the girls, unable to understand the Spanish, looked on in distress at the shameful fate of their underwear. Victor brought the gusset of the sexy pink panties to his nose, then spoke in English.

  “Yes, puta, you got wet, didn’t you? I can smell your naughty cunt on these. Were you getting a fucking from a gringo when we attacked? What’s your name, girl?”

  The redhead had taken her lower lip between her teeth. Little whimpers of need came from her mouth as Roberto played with the sweet pink cleft between her legs, his big, hard cock in his hand as he fondled the pink, wrinkly hood of the whore’s little clit.

  “Please,” she said. “Please... don’t...” Her hips moved up and down, though, her spread-eagled body helplessly responsive to the young man’s touch.

  On his side of the cave, Jose had his own hand back between the blonde girl’s thighs. He had his thumb atop her clit while the rest of his fingers held the silicone base of the plug, moving it gently back and forth, as if fascinated by how it felt to hold a bottom with a toy inside it.

  Jose’s eyes showed even more fascination as they moved from the sexy sight of his hand between the American whore’s thighs and the distress on her face at the feeling she clearly couldn’t help finding terribly arousing. Her blue eyes darted to the side, where Jose had put the gray panties, and Jorge watched her forehead crease as she obviously understood the meaning he had intended: that she would not be allowed panties for a long time.

  She met his eyes again, and Jorge could see that she expected him to ask her name, too—he thought he could even see that she had a defiant reply prepared. So instead of asking the question she had prepared for, he asked another instead.

  “Why do you have the plug in your bottom, girl? Were you being punished?”

  The girl’s face crumpled and she let out a little whine. Down below, Jorge could see, Jose had wisely pressed a bit more firmly on the base of the plug, to emphasize his sargento’s degrading words. He couldn’t speak English, but he understood it pretty well, Jorge knew—especially the dirty parts of it.

  “No,” she moaned. “No.”

  “Is that true?” Jorge asked the redhead, glancing over to the other side of the cave. “Do Army whores get butt plugs just for fun?”

  The pretty girl’s hips bounced up and down under Roberto’s evidently skillful caress and she chewed fretfully on the inside of her cheek.

  “No,” she echoed in a whimper.

  “Rian, don’t!” the blonde girl whispered, in a voice so distressed with sexual need that it made Jorge’s cock jump in his pants.

  “She’s Georgia,” Rian said, looking at Jorge with a face full of pleading. “I’m Rian. She has the plug because... because she was bad, I’m pretty sure. There’s a new order—”

  The blonde girl—Georgia—cried out in protest, but Jorge could see in her face that Rian had spoken nothing more than the truth.

  Jorge let the scene quiet for a moment. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked into the faces of the American whores by turn, then down their lovely bodies, to their sweet young breasts and the wet pussies Jose and Roberto fondled. He waited until the only sounds in the cave were the lewd, rhythmic, sexual noises of big hands on hard cocks and mastering fingertips on little cunts, along with the whimpers of Georgia and Rian and the deep breathing of the young men.

  Given their first chance to dominate naked girls tied up for their enjoyment, Jose and Roberto worked their hard shafts energetically, their eyes roving up and down the bound, spread-eagled body of the whores they had helped capture. Their fingers had found the right rhythm for each girl, Georgia’s and Rian’s own helpless, shuddering movements and soft whimpers teaching each young man how best to make her healthy, natural need for the penis grow as she had to watch him tend to his own enjoyment with his other hand.

  Jorge kept his attention on Georgia, still curious about the naughty toy in her bottom, and how it had gotten there.

  “What did you do, Georgia?” he asked softly. “Why did they plug that little asshole? Did you say you wouldn’t have a penis in there, maybe? Is that how they teach a whore to take the cock wherever she’s told to take it?”

  The blonde girl had flinched at the sound of her name, and a deep furrow appeared on her brow as she listened to his words. Knowing the whores’ names would help greatly in training them as bed girls for the captain’s guerrilla cell. Georgia shook her head, now, but her blue eyes remained fixed on Jorge’s.

  “Well, chica,” he said in a low, confiding voice, “you won’t get to say no when I fuck your bottom.”

  He turned to Jose and Roberto, and spoke in Spanish. “We need to go help the captain. Come on their faces. I want to see your seed all over them before we go.”

  Victor chuckled and nodded, winking at Jorge in appreciation of his instinct to keep the younger men off their sexual boil.

  “Yes, sir,” Jose said without taking his eyes off Georgia’s wet cunt, where his fingers made her plugged bottom squirm lewdly over the mattress.

  Roberto said, “Yes, sir,” and then redheaded Rian gave a cry, because the young man’s hand had quickened its pace between her thighs.

  “Don’t let them come now,” Victor said. “They’ll come later if they show they can be good little whores when they have cocks inside all their holes.”

  The girls looked desperately from face to face as they listened to this flow of rapid Spanish. Jorge let them guess from the way Jose and Roberto had begun to jerk their cocks more intently, the way their hard, shirtless bodies grew more rigid, what would happen to them now. Rian moaned, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Georgia breathed hard through parted lips, her eyes moving from Jose’s cock to Jorge’s face.

  Jose came first, his white seed spurting onto the blonde girl’s cheek and her forehead. Georgia closed her mouth and whined in needy protest as the young man’s hand between her thighs kept her whorish sexual arousal unsatisfied.

  Roberto grunted, then, and his own semen splashed onto Rian’s chin, then her nose. The redheaded girl shook her head slowly, as if trying to deny that her cunt, too, needed more—that when the time came for these whores’ first fucking by their new masters, they would both beg for as much cock as they could have.

  “That’s it,” Victor said. “Look how pretty they’ll be for the captain.”

  Jorge spoke in English to the girls now, his hardness swelling again down below as he took in the sight of them with their captor’s thick white sperm on their faces.

  “We’ll be back soon, whores. You should be ready to tell us about your sexy panties, Rian, and about your pretty plug, Georgia. We know the Americans whip you, girls. We’ll whip you, too, unless you do as you’re told.”

  Chapter Nine

  When the guerrillas had left the cave, Georgia tried to turn to look at Rian, but all she saw was the panties—her gray Army panties—the sergeant had put there. She shuddered as she remembered what he had said—that she wouldn’t be allowed to put on underwear for a long time. To her dismay, the shameful thought sent an aftershock of sexual need through her hips.

  “Georgia?” she heard Rian whisper.

  “Yeah,” Georgia replied, hearing in her voice all the terrible ambivalence she felt about what had happened.

  “Are they going to come get us?”

  To her surprise, Georgia heard a complicated element in Rian’s words, something like her own difficulty in figuring out what to feel.

  “The Army?”

  “Yeah,” Rian confirmed. “I mean... it’s not like... I mean... I like my guys, but...”

  “But what?” Georgia tried to make her voice sound neutral, although an inborn American instinct made her think herself disloyal even for that. She fought that idea back: Rian had a point, if she were going in the direction Georgia thought she might be.

  “But... you know... freedom? And they don’t seem... I don’t know... horrible? I mean, they called us whores, but... you know... we kind o
f are and it almost felt...” Rian gave a sudden giggle. “Roberto is pretty hot. Hotter than anyone in my platoon.”

  Georgia’s mind filled with so many different thoughts that she couldn’t trust herself to speak. She hadn’t struggled, had she? The master sergeant had punished her so strictly. She still had the butt plug in her bottom! The guerrillas... they wanted to know why. What the fuck was Georgia supposed to say about that?

  “Georgia?” Rian whispered hesitantly. “I mean—I love my country, but the last few years of politics and everything, and then BGF, and...”

  Georgia’s heart welled up with sympathy. Rian clearly thought her fellow SRD had been stunned into a disapproving silence.

  “No, I know what you mean,” she replied. “I... my master sergeant... he used the strap on me, and then he put, you know, the plug in. I don’t think...”

  Georgia almost said, I don’t think I want to be rescued either, but she felt a sob rise in her throat and she finished, “I don’t think they care enough about us to rescue us. We’re bad girls.”

  “Oh, good,” came Rian’s relieved whisper back. “I mean, not good... really shitty, actually. But I’m glad you feel the same way.”

  Georgia could lift her head from the scratchy mattress just enough to see the entrance of the cave. The light had begun to fade rapidly from whatever sky might be glimpsed through the jungle canopy, she could tell. Now she could just barely make out some of the foliage outside. A thrill of mingled fear and helpless, confusing erotic need shot through her at the thought of what the guerrillas meant to do to them tonight, once the captain gave the all-clear.

  “It’s nothing they didn’t do at BGF,” she said, hardly knowing she said it aloud.

  “Right,” Rian said. “You got... you know, gangbanged there, right?”

  “Yeah,” Georgia responded. “And my platoon... well, the lieutenant said they were going to gangbang me tonight anyway, as a punishment.”

  Rian giggled, to Georgia’s surprise. “Sorry!” she whispered urgently. “It’s just... well, it’s like at BGF. When you can’t figure out what’s a punishment and what isn’t?”

  “Yeah,” Georgia said, feeling some of the tension leave her body, rather to her surprise.

  It returned a scant moment later, though, because the sergeant had come back in, along with the captain. Jose and Roberto, who seemed to have been designated as the captured girls’ guards, stood behind them.

  Georgia looked fearfully up at the officer with his mustache, who looked coldly down at the naked girls spread-eagled on the cots. He said something in Spanish to the sergeant, and the bearded, copper-skinned man whom Georgia had earlier found so terribly arousing—much more than young Jose—said, “Si.”

  The captain left. Jose and Roberto untied Georgia and Rian, and they made the naked girls pee into a bucket. Georgia closed her eyes and felt her face go very hot as she heard the loudness of her gushing stream against the metal. Jose and Roberto, making little asides in Spanish, watched eagerly while the girls had to squat before them. The sergeant stood with folded arms, and his gaze seemed more terrible to Georgia, but also, to her dismay, more arousing.

  As this humiliation went on, more men began to enter the now very dark cave, speaking quietly to one another in a tone that made Georgia shiver. Clearly the guerrillas had strict orders to keep their voices down at all times, but the quiet seemed to Georgia even more ominous and frightening than yelling foreign voices might have been.

  After the bucket, Jose and Roberto made the girls drink from a canteen. The water tasted dirty, but, she thought, in a clean way—as if it had come from a mountain stream.

  The captain had come back in, too, and Georgia now heard a kind of scraping at the entrance, as if a heavy barrier, perhaps made of woven branches, were being moved in front of it. Then someone turned on one lantern, and then another, and Georgia bit her lip to see that there were thirteen or fourteen big men in worn fatigues crowded into the cave.

  “Time for a show,” the captain said, his voice supercilious. “Kiss each other, whores. Kiss away the seed my men gave you.” A low chuckle rippled through the gathering at the reference to Jose’s and Roberto’s sperm, still sticky on Georgia’s and Rian’s faces.

  Georgia and Rian stood between the two cots at the end of the cave, turned toward the guerrillas. Georgia felt Rian’s hand search for hers, and she eagerly grasped the other girl’s fingers. She gave a little squeeze, to confirm their BGF solidarity: this degrading little show didn’t represent anything bad girls didn’t know how to do, though kissing another girl always made Georgia blush.

  She turned to Rian and she couldn’t help smiling just a little at how disheveled the redheaded girl looked. She put out her hand to smooth away some of the matted hair on Rian’s forehead, and she felt the heat creep into her face—but also between her thighs.

  “What?” Rian asked softly.

  “You look like you just got captured by guerrillas,” Georgia said, and Rian smiled in turn. She supposed that something in her BGF training, or in her Army deployment, or maybe both, had made this frightening situation much more bearable than she would have expected. As she looked at Rian’s pretty face, she even felt the sexual need begin to build below her tummy. She shifted her weight a bit, and the plug in her bottom made her feel terribly naughty as she remembered how young Jose had moved it in her anus while with his hard cock he shot his semen onto her face.

  Georgia heard the captain and the sergeant chuckle: they had understood what she had said to Rian, she supposed.

  “Beso,” she heard from somewhere further up the cave. Then another voice repeated, “Beso!”

  Rian leaned forward a little bit, her lips puckered. Their hands, at their sides, twined fingers. Georgia leaned, too. At BGF, lesbian sex was something the tougher girls forced on the less aggressive ones. Georgia had been made to receive feminine kisses—and made to pleasure an alpha girl’s pussy with her mouth—many times, but she hadn’t experienced this much more equal form of girl-on-girl love. Something about their sharing this frightening but terribly sexy experience; something about the presence of the guerrilla captain and sergeant; something about the aroused hooting of the men, barely restrained by their commanders—it all made Georgia burn all over as her lips met Rian’s, and their captors cheered.

  She felt a man’s hand on her bottom, its fingers pressing at the base of the plug, and she cried out into Rian’s mouth, even as the other girl whimpered, too, and kissed Georgia more fiercely. She had closed her eyes before they kissed, and now she opened them to find that the captain had begun to fondle Rian’s bottom, while the sergeant must be the one with his hand on Georgia’s though she couldn’t see him.

  She heard his voice, though, as the kiss continued and the guerrillas used their caressing hands to move the girls together, their breasts brushing lewdly against each other.

  “We’re going to find out how you got this plug in your ass, Georgia, before we take it out and fuck you,” he promised with a firm push on the silicone base.

  Georgia shuddered, and found herself kissing Rian even harder. Why had she decided she must not tell them about her punishment at the Army base? If she meant to have the easy path to freedom it seemed she might have by serving her captors for a while, she could tell the story—or even some sexy lie—couldn’t she?

  But something inside her made that feel like a betrayal, and she didn’t want to think about what the idea behind her hesitation might be. She lost herself in the wicked, sexy sensation of kissing Rian, of their nipples touching.

  “Put them together on the cot,” she heard the captain say. “Head to tail. Let’s see them kiss each other’s cunts.”

  A few of the men laughed. One of them called out something in Spanish, and Georgia thought she’d heard the word conyos. It made her cheeks get even hotter, especially when all the men laughed and cheered.

  The sergeant put one hand on each of their bottoms, now, and the captain stood back. Firmly the
bearded man guided the naked girls to the cot on the right, the one on which Georgia had been tied.

  Georgia turned to look into the sergeant’s face, and she bit her lip when she saw his expression. It reminded her of Master Sergeant David Heath, despite the beard and the dark complexion: this man took care of people, even when it might look from the outside like that care was much too rough. She could tell that element of his character extended to the bedroom, and she knew suddenly that David Heath—like this man—would be the kind of lover who knew how to fuck a girl very hard, but also how to fuck her very gently when she needed it.

  When she needs it. And when he decides that’s what he wants. Georgia heard a little whimper come from deep in her throat, and with a red face and a clench inside her pussy she turned back to clamber onto the cot. She lay with her head toward the end of the cave, and she heard the sergeant murmuring to Rian, telling her to lie the other way.

  Georgia couldn’t keep her eyes open, because the sight of the guerrillas watching this lewd bad-girl show made her heart race so quickly she thought she might faint. But she couldn’t keep them closed, either, because every time she looked at the sergeant, at the captain, at Jose and Roberto and all the other men, their hard cocks now in all their hands, ready to fuck two naked young American whores, she felt a thrill of wicked need like she had never experienced before. Even at BGF, there had been some kind of control, Georgia had always felt—and she had always wondered what it might be like to have no control at all, to see what might happen if she fell into the hands of a man, or a gang, who really knew what to do with a bad girl.

  To her confusion, it seemed the sergeant had decided Rian should lie on her back. Georgia, who had lain down on her side, didn’t understand at first, but then the sergeant said, “Get over her, Georgia. Put your face in her cunt and your cunt on her face. Get your bottom up. I’m going to whip you until you tell me about the plug.”

  Chapter Ten

  With the night vision goggles David could see the sentry very clearly. He raised his hand to signal the rest of the squad to stay where they were, well hidden in the thick trees along both sides of the Jeep track they had followed slowly and painstakingly since the moment the sun had set over Forward Operating Base Lightning Justice.