Hard Corps

by Claire Thompson

  When I entered the room, the colonel didn’t look up. He was busy writing on some important-looking document. I stood quietly at attention, staring just past his head, as a good cadet is taught to do, but I could see him peripherally. In his late forties, the colonel had a commanding presence, even sitting down. His nose was hooked between deep-set, dark eyes, shadowed by dark, straight eyebrows on a broad forehead. He had that shipshape look of a career army man. His dark hair was cut regulation short, with a grace note of grey. His uniform was perfectly creased and starched so heavily I imagined it must stand by itself at attention by his bedside, waiting for him to step into it upon his awakening. His face was stern and impassive as he finally looked up. He looked at me for a moment, as if wondering how I happened to be there.

  His eyes were dark and penetrating. I almost flushed from his direct gaze. He looked at me slowly, first my face, then my throat, my breasts, my hips, my legs, his gaze lingering at each spot. I felt embarrassed but also oddly thrilled by his attentions. He exuded control as he stared at me; it was as if he were claiming each separate part of my body.

  Though clad in the dress uniform of dark-green skirt, tailored just below the knee, and paler green blouse, tucked in at the waist, I felt naked in front of him. I stood still, erect, willing myself to remain calm.

  The colonel spoke at last. ‘Ms Harris, I understand that you are available for my use.’

  I was surprised by the use of ‘Ms’. It had been some time since anyone had called me anything other than Harris, or cadet, or slave. Before I could respond, he continued in a voice that sounded as if it had been oiled: smooth and deep.

  ‘At ease, Ms Harris. Strip. Stark naked. Then present yourself to me over here by my desk.’ He looked back down at his work, shuffling papers, seemingly unaware of me again. My heart had already jumped into my throat, but I hoped my agitation didn’t show in my face or manner. I dared to speak; I had to.

  ‘Excuse me, sir. The door?’ It was open. His secretary was in full sight outside his office, bent over her own work at her desk.

  ‘What about it, Ms Harris? Did I tell you to close it? Do you have a problem with an open door? Shy, are you?’ He spoke in clipped tones, like someone not used to wasting his breath. I was taken aback, but realised his secretary must obviously be in on all this.

  ‘Do you have trouble obeying an order, cadet? Not good. Not good at all. We will have to work on that. Whip you into shape.’ His mouth curved slightly, just the hint of a smile, the thin lips like the edge of a knife.

  Nonplussed and a little unnerved, I started to disrobe. Ms Hawkins gave no indication that she was aware of what was happening but I felt fairly certain she was very aware. When I was completely naked, I walked over to his desk, my nipples already perversely hard. Something in me thrilled, as usual, to the commanding tone, the casual assuredness that I would obey him, that I was a slave to his dominance and to my own lust.

  He looked up at me and his eyes seemed to smoulder as they travelled slowly over my naked flesh. I realised I felt proud at last, proud of my naked, firm body, my large, round breasts, my well-muscled legs. Maybe that was it — the pride in my face, in my carriage — that made him see me as a challenge. Whatever it was, he stood slowly and came very close to me. He was a tall man, and, leaning down, suddenly he slapped me, hard, across the face.

  I cried out as the sting spread along my cheek. I had been unprepared for the assault, and had no idea why he had hit me. As usual, when someone slapped my face, I felt a rush of panic, offset by a heat in my blood that set me afire.

  ‘Pride,’ is all he said, as he sat calmly back down. ‘It’s all over your face. You are too proud. You think you’re something special, Ms Harris. And that’s OK. Maybe you are something special, for all I know. But — ’ he paused for effect ‘ — but, if you have any chance at succeeding in the Corps, wipe that pride off your face. Stand at attention, but don’t flaunt your body like that. Offer yourself, but don’t be so brazen.’ He looked away from me, toward the open door.

  ‘Eloise. Come in. Bring the crop.’

  I felt a moment’s panic. There I was, stark naked as the colonel had put it. And he was calling the secretary to bring in the crop! I wanted to bolt out of there. Somehow I managed to maintain my composure. Eloise entered quickly, closing the door softly behind her, and I saw she was carrying a long, thin riding crop of black leather. I looked down, too embarrassed to meet her gaze.

  ‘Ms Harris. Please bend over my desk, hands behind your head. Don’t move.’

  I bent, relieved to be able to hide my face. It’s funny in retrospect to think that I was more embarrassed to be naked in front of another young woman than in front of a colonel in the United States Army. In the barracks we were often naked around each other and no one seemed to give it another thought. I suppose it was the context: I was the slave girl, ready and expecting to submit to a master, not to a fully clothed secretary.

  ‘Eloise. Whip her. Fifty strokes. Hard. Then both of you get out of here. I’m busy. I’ll send for you another time, Ms Harris. When you’ve learned a little more about humility.’

  I couldn’t see their faces. I could hear the colonel rustling papers. He was going about his work as if I weren’t even in the room! Eloise hadn’t said a word but I felt her move up close behind me. Then I felt the smacking of the little leather loop against my ass. It was tentative at first, but quickly became strong and hard. As always, the pain of the beating was juxtaposed with the arousal at my situation.

  My breathing came ragged and fast as she continued the relentless torture. I could feel my pussy tightening with need as the leather heated my flesh. Methodically she covered my ass and upper thighs until I was whimpering and doing a little involuntary dance in place over the colonel’s desk.

  As suddenly as she had started, she was done. Still without a word, I felt her cool fingers on my shoulder. She was pulling me up, and I quickly followed her unspoken order and stood. She led me to my clothing, which I had left in a little heap near the door. As I slipped my T-shirt over my head, Eloise positioned herself behind me, holding my uniform blouse so I could slide my arms in easily. As I was buttoning my blouse, I looked at her. She had dark-brown hair that curled prettily around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were large and dark, so dark I couldn’t tell the pupil from the iris. Her large eyes looked even bigger compared to her small nose and little cupid’s bow mouth. I wouldn’t have called her beautiful, but somehow something from within seemed to light her features. Her face was flushed, whether from exertion or arousal I wasn’t sure.

  She looked over at the colonel and I saw the unmistakable look of adoration. This girl was clearly head-over-heels. The colonel did not return the love-struck stare. He hadn’t even bothered to look up from his papers. The only sound in the room for a moment was the scratching of his pen across the page. Eloise looked over at me suddenly, and saw that I was observing her. She glanced down quickly which allowed me to continue to scrutinise her. There was a faint flush creeping across her cheeks. She was embarrassed! Eloise had just whipped me, naked across the colonel’s desk, and was helping me pull on my uniform over my red ass, and she was embarrassed. I couldn’t quite suppress a little grin at the absurdity of it.

  As if suddenly remembering the colonel’s orders, she hurried me to finish my dressing and led me quickly out of the room before closing the door noiselessly behind her. We stood together for a moment. Then I looked at the clock on the wall and remarked, ‘Wow. He sure got rid of me in a hurry. I still have half an hour till I’m supposed to report back. I hope I’m not in trouble. I mean, I guess I really messed this one up.’

  ‘You haven’t. Not your fault. And no one has to know you got out early.’ She stood a moment longer, as if weighing something in her mind, then said, ‘Would you like to come to the break-room and have a cup of coffee or juice or something while you collect yourself? I mean with me. Have a cup of coffee with me.’ She trailed off, as if she were embarrassed and
unsure of herself. I realised that she couldn’t have been much older than I was.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’d love to. I don’t often have coffee with a woman who has just whipped me.’

  Eloise grinned and said, ‘Just following orders, cadet.’

  I followed her down the hall to a small break-room. As we entered, I saw the sun was shining though the windows, dappling the room with light. It reminded me that this was just another weekday morning. I should have been out running an obstacle course or studying for my computer science exam. Instead I was a member of a secret society that had opened the door to my wildest fantasies.

  Eloise was pouring coffee into a mug and asked me, ‘What do you like? Cream, sugar?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t really like coffee. Water would be great though.’ She got a glass from the cabinet and poured me some water from the cooler, then handed me the cold glass. Eloise gestured toward a chair as she sat at the little table in the centre of the small room, her own mug in hand.

  We sat quietly for a moment, sipping our drinks. I shifted my weight on the hard seat, my ass still sore from her beating. Eloise watched me, grinning. ‘Hurts, huh? Sorry I had to do that, but I always obey the colonel. He owns me.’

  She said it so simply. He owns me. I drank from the glass, and then set the cup down carefully on the table. Curiosity got the better of me as I blurted out, ‘He owns you?’

  ‘Completely. Has for two years. I hope it will be forever.’ She looked so happy sitting there, sipping her coffee. Again I sensed that serenity emanating from her.

  ‘So are you in the Corps?’

  ‘Oh, no. He would never let me do that. Corps slaves are Corps property. If I were in the Corps, he would have to share me. The colonel doesn’t like to share.’ She grinned, a satisfied look on her face. ‘I used to be, though. That was how we met. And don’t feel bad. He almost never uses anyone the first time. Usually just sends them packing, their heads hung in shame. You got a whipping, even though it was only me. So you must have some potential. And he’ll call you back. When you’re ready.’

  ‘He will?’ I wasn’t sure if I was glad or not. ‘And doesn’t it bother you that he “uses” all these different people, with you right there watching?’

  ‘Why would it bother me? If it pleases him, it pleases me. I am here to serve him, not the other way around. And he doesn’t see all that many, you know. Maybe only once a month. The rest of the time I am all he needs to torture and tease. I live for him. I would die for him.’

  ‘Do you love him?’

  Eloise stared into her glass, as if in the bottom was an answer she didn’t quite have. Then I heard the catch in her voice as she answered, and realised I had asked a sensitive question. ‘Yes. With all my heart.’ She sounded so sad that I knew something was wrong.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I started, ‘I didn’t mean to be so nosey. I — ’

  ‘No, no,’ she interrupted me. ‘It isn’t your fault. You couldn’t know. He’s married, you see. She doesn’t know about any of this. I have him during the day, but she will always have him at night.’

  ‘Oh.’ We were both silent. What a lousy situation for her, I thought. Never catch me falling for a married man, was my next thought.

  ‘Well,’ she said, her voice too loud, her smile falsely bright. ‘So how did you get into the Corps? Do you like it so far?’

  ‘I don’t even know. Well, that isn’t exactly true. I love it and I hate it. I have never been at once so humiliated and so exalted; so pissed off and so excited all at once. I don’t really understand it yet. But it’s getting in my blood, you know? Like, I go to the mailbox every day, sometimes several times a day, to check for my next assignment. And when there isn’t one, I feel so let down. Though as soon as I see that envelope, my heart starts to pound and I wonder for the millionth time what the hell I’ve gotten myself into!’

  Eloise laughed, throwing back her head. ‘You’ve got the bug, all right. And that’s exactly how to put it: in your blood. It’s like an addiction. Once you taste the pleasure of submission, the intensity of it, you can’t go back to vanilla, not ever.’

  ‘But how did you get out? I mean, it didn’t even occur to me to think about getting out. Is it easy to do? Do you just resign or what?’

  ‘Sure, it’s easy. This isn’t real slavery, you know. It isn’t even the Army, which is a lot harder to get out of, let me tell you. It’s an agreement, and you can end the agreement anytime. As long as you keep your mouth shut about it. But it wasn’t my idea to resign. It was the colonel’s. He decided he didn’t like my “assignments”. He wanted me for his own. And he asked me what I thought and I said I would be honoured. I fell in love with him the first time he used me. He started calling for me more and more often. It was almost just a formality when I officially resigned from the Corps. But I still keep in touch with a few Corps members. The Colonel likes the occasional play-toy, you see.’

  Eloise looked at her watch and stood up suddenly. ‘Oh, shit. I didn’t notice the time. I have to get back to my desk, fast. Listen, maybe sometime we could do something together. Or you could come over to my place or something. I don’t live far from campus. But I do have to run now, Remy.’

  ‘Oh. OK. Yeah. That would be really cool. Thanks, Eloise. Thanks for everything, I think.’ I grinned at her, rubbing my sore butt with an exaggerated gesture. Eloise laughed and hurried back down the hall. The colonel was waiting.

  Chapter Eight

  A Truce

  My third assignment came later that week. I was just pulling the envelope from my mailbox, eager to read what it might hold, when who but Jean Dillon should slip up behind me. With a sudden movement, the envelope was out of my hand and into hers.

  ‘Hey! Give me that!’ I reached toward her but she was too quick for me. She slipped it into the elastic of her pants at the small of her back.

  Laughing a cruel, little laugh she said, ‘What’ll you give me for it, eh, Harris? Wouldn’t be too cool not to show up for your assignment, eh, slave girl?’ Luckily no one was around to hear what she was saying. But she was being very indiscreet and I was furious.

  ‘Listen, Jean. You know I need that. If I don’t show up, your ass will be in the sling, too, you know. You aren’t a ranking mistress yet.’ I tried to act tough, but I was feeling slightly desperate. Jean only laughed.

  ‘Oh, I’m so scared,’ she taunted, dancing away as I tried to grab at the envelope at her waist. This bitch was going to mess things up for me, one way or the other. I decided to switch tactics.

  ‘OK, Jean. What do you want?’

  ‘Ah! Now you’re on the right track. I do want something. I want you to get on your knees, slave girl, and beg me for the envelope. Then I want you to kiss my ass. Then, if I feel like it, I’ll give you the stupid assignment.’

  This was too much. I didn’t feel the slightest bit submissive as I reached for her. With a sudden movement, I had her arms pinned behind her back. Ratcheting one up until she gasped, I used my free hand to grab the envelope from her pants. I threw her forward as I retrieved it, and she fell to the ground. The envelope was torn, but not too badly. I would still be able to read whatever was inside.

  ‘You’re dead, Harris,’ she hissed up at me as she slowly stood, rubbing her shoulder and arm. ‘Dead.’

  I didn’t answer her, but went to my bunk to see what my next assignment was. When I got there, Amelia was waiting for me.

  ‘How’s it going, Remy? We haven’t had a chance to talk lately. I’ve been so busy.’ She blushed prettily as she said that, and I knew what she had been busy doing.

  ‘Oh, pretty good, I guess. But that bitch Dillon is on my case again.’ I told Amelia briefly what had happened. She looked worried.

  ‘Remy, that isn’t good. Don’t forget, she is going to be in a position of power over you one day. You could get yourself in a lot of hot water.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to take my chances. I couldn’t have done what she demanded. I would die first.�
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  ‘Pride, Remy. You have too much. You are going to suffer because of that.’ Well, she wasn’t the first one to tell me that. I didn’t understand why pride and submission should be mutually exclusive, but at the time I didn’t have the understanding or experience to protest. I nodded glumly, wondering if I was cut out for all of this after all.

  ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’ Amelia asked, changing the subject.

  Eagerly I took the envelope, pulling it open. ‘Dr Margaret Wellington, 0800 hours, Friday, office.’ Underneath, in small, bold letters was the single word ‘mentor’. Dr Wellington! All thoughts of my nemesis vanished as I thought about my next assignment! My mind was flooded with images of the lovely professor. She was so unlike me, with her small, slender figure and delicate features. To me she was the essence of femininity. The stunning overlay of dominance perfectly complimented that femininity. It gave her a power that I couldn’t yet define.

  Amelia leaned over my shoulder, reading what was there. ‘Dr Wellington will be your mentor! Oh, you are so lucky! To get a woman. I got a man but I really wanted a woman. And she is so sympathetic, so sensitive! You are so lucky.’ She sounded wistful. I wondered who her mentor was, but she hadn’t volunteered that information, and I was learning that discretion was definitely the better part of valour as far as the Corps was concerned.

  The next morning, I rushed through my shower, and then put on non-regulation panties and bra. I grinned at myself, realising I had a crush on another woman! This was a side of myself I had never explored. I had often found other women attractive, or interesting, even sexy. But it never occurred to me that it might be a sexual interest on my part. I always thought I wanted to be like them, or be them. It never occurred to me that I might want to explore something more intimate.

  Yet I couldn’t deny the pull in my pussy when I thought of her leaning over me as I made myself come that fateful night of initiation. I hadn’t seen her since, and really hadn’t thought about her much. But I was thinking about her now as I walked briskly toward the chemistry building, looking purposeful, my mind whirling with the possibilities. The last few weeks of experience had opened something inside of me, and now it was as if I were hypersexual, and hyperaware of that sexuality. This new-found desire encompassed not only my usual male fantasy, but now included women as well. The petite and lovely Dr Wellington had asked for me. She wanted me! At least she wanted to train me. What if I let her down? So far my first two assignments had not gone very well, at least as far as I could see. I was afraid that, even though I loved it, I wasn’t really cut out of a submissive cloth.