Further Training

by Sarah Veitch

  They walked past the playing fields, past some kind of breeding farm that she hadn't seen before then walked through a particularly dense part of the forest. At last they reached a series of low buildings surrounded by razor wire.

  'Please sir, where are we?' Charlotte asked, hearing voices chanting commands in the distance.

  'We're approaching your new home,' Mr Rule replied. He slapped her naked arse four times in quick succession. 'Welcome to the military academy.'

  Chapter Eight

  Was she really going to have to live in barracks now? Charlotte lagged behind Mr Rule as he approached the sentry guards on duty. He said something to both men and they laughed and then looked her up and down. They kept staring at her naked body and at the glistening slivers of male lust which streaked her thighs.

  One of the guards spoke into his walkie talkie and a few minutes later a third man in military uniform came hurrying across the wide concrete expanse.

  'Sergeant Dernell will give you the guided tour,' Mr Rule explained, 'then explain the drill.'

  Charlotte watched numbly as the overseer walked away. He hadn't been a likeable man - but he was the only link she had to the school and her friends there. Now she had to deal with strangers all over again.

  The sergeant looked her up and down. 'Name,' he barked.

  'Charlotte, sir.'

  'Full name,' he added, slapping at her buttocks with his stick.

  Charlotte hesitated. She'd always hated her surname. 'Charlotte Churr, sir,' she said.

  'You will give your name as Private Churr from now on,' the man said matter of factly, 'unless you're drummed out of the military, of course...'

  'Yes, sir. Private Churr reporting for duty, sir,' Charlotte muttered, taking her cues from the war films she'd seen on the television. Her breasts jiggled as she raised her hand in an awkward salute, reminding her that she was naked. 'Could I possibly have some clothes, sir?' she asked.

  'Yes indeed. We have a very special uniform for new recruits,' her superior replied with a knowing smile.

  They walked into the military academy's grounds and the guards immediately shut the gates behind them.

  Sergeant Dernell marched her over to a huge square that was cordoned off by high walls overseen by guards in turrets. 'This is the exercise yard.'

  Charlotte watched as men in cotton vests and khaki shorts did sit ups, shoulder presses and windmill exercises. Several women in similar attire were using the climbing frame.

  'I hear they often tanned your rump in class,' the sergeant said, staring at her naked buttocks.

  Charlotte decided not to dignify his remark with a reply.

  'I'm keen to get fit,' she volunteered hoping that this would make him like and respect her.

  'You're in the army now, girl. Getting fit is not an option, it's obligatory,' the man replied.

  They walked on. 'I'll show you the buildings in this part of the compound first,' he said, 'then we'll move on to the quarter where the miscreants live.'

  Just her luck to be starting off in the doghouse - and to be partaking of this entire guided tour without wearing any clothes.

  'These are the showers,' the military man said somewhat unnecessarily as they continued the tour. 'And there are steam baths through there and saunas. Oh, and a whirlpool for relaxation at the end of a hard training day.'

  'Very nice,' Charlotte said dutifully. She said the same thing as he showed her the massive kitchens, laundry and medical suite. 'And these are the regular soldiers' living quarters,' he added, indicating rows of little chalet houses. 'Not for you, as you're a miscreant so housed in a separate part of the complex. But this is where you'll move to if you complete your basic training and we decide to keep you on.'

  'And if I don't get kept on, do I get to go back to school?' Charlotte asked hopefully.

  Sergeant Dernell shook his head. 'No, you upset the scholastic board so much that you've been formally expelled.'

  'They didn't tell me that,' Charlotte said, wondering if he was bluffing.

  'Apparently Mr Steen wanted you off the premises immediately after he found that you'd assaulted an innocent pupil. Waiting to give you a formal expulsion would have involved you staying there for another few hours.'

  For the first time Charlotte truly regretted what she'd done. The school had been completely right - she simply shouldn't have grabbed Leeza, tied her up and terrorised her. The poor girl would never feel safe whilst out running again.

  'I'm truly sorry,' she said. 'As you probably know, a boy was involved and he egged me on and...'

  The sergeant consulted his notebook. 'Phil? He's been sent to the east side labour camp to cut down a section of the forest. You know, to make room for new timber housing. His arms will be too tired to spank anyone after they spend day after day wielding an axe.'

  So Phil was still here on isle two - but at least he wasn't at the military academy. Charlotte brightened slightly. But her brightness soon changed to consternation as they reached the miscreants part of her brand new domicile.

  Sergeant Dernell took her to the punishment yard first - and as soon as she walked through its gates she realised that she was facing four bare bottoms. Moreover, they were a tender crimson on account of a man who was walking up and down the row with a large paddle and thrashing indiscriminately at each backside. As Charlotte took in the whole picture, she realised that the bums belonged to both men and women whose arms and necks were firmly held in a kind of communal stocks.

  'Meet Darcy, Burns, Shanelle and Morgana,' the sergeant said grimly. 'If you want to apply the paddle to them, be my guest.'

  The overseer held out the paddle towards Charlotte but she shook her head.

  'What have they done?' she asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the quivering hemispheres.

  'Darcy was too arrogant to settle into military life whilst Burns has irritated virtually every soldier he's shared barracks with. I put them both into solitary as a punishment but Shanelle and Morgana tried to help them escape.'

  'And how long will they be paddled for?' Charlotte added, realising that she herself might one day face a similar punishment.

  'Well, they'll be in the stocks for an hour. How many strokes they receive depends on how good a mood the overseer is in.'

  'He's affy bad tempered,' Burns said in a strong Scottish accent and the overseer immediately took the wooden paddle to his exposed haunches again.

  'Let's show you to your quarters, Private Churr,' Sergeant Dernell said and set off through the punishment yard gate, along past the isolation bunker and the impressively spacious canteen.

  At last the man showed her to a long low room with lots of bunk beds. It was like the school dorm but much less salubrious.

  The man pointed out a metal locker at the end of each bed. 'Here's the key to yours. It has your number on it. Keep only your clothes and allowed possessions there. You'll find a list of allowed possessions on the inside door of your locker. Just remember that failure to abide by the rules can result in immediate punishment.' He stood to attention. 'Any questions, Private Churr?'

  'About my clothes...' Charlotte said nervously.

  'Your kit is in your locker,' Sergeant Dernell said. He leered at her. 'Put it on now. It's inspection time.'

  Hoping that her buttocks didn't jiggle as she walked, Charlotte hurried to her locker and opened it with the key. Inside were two scraps of khaki and a pair of training shoes.

  Cringing inside, she put on the tiny khaki bra and equally minuscule khaki shorts. The bra was cut so low that it showed three quarters of her breasts and all of her cleavage. And the shorts were so high cut that they exposed the lower curve of her arse. The shoes fitted well - and were clearly handmade from the finest leather - but they only served to emphasise how scantily dressed the rest of her body was.

  'Pack drill's in half an hour. Do some bending and stretching now to get warmed up,' Sergeant Dernell ordered, tapping his stick against her underswell. Refusing to meet his gloa
ting gaze, Charlotte followed his commands by jogging on the spot, lifting her legs as high as they would go. 'Higher,' the sergeant ordered. The movement made her rectum sting and she squirmed as she recalled how firmly the enema tube had been pushed in.

  When she was gasping for breath, the man said she could slow down. He then supervised her cool down exercises before looking at his watch.

  'Get yourself a drink from the canteen then report to the drill sergeant in the exercise yard,' he said.

  Charlotte looked down at her tiny bra and shorts. She'd feel ridiculous walking to the canteen in them.

  'Sir, don't I get camouflage fatigues?' she asked timidly.

  Her superior smiled a sardonic smile. 'We have no enemies here so camouflage simply isn't required. You only have to be fit to secure the island from natural disasters such as flood, freak storms and insect plagues.' He stared her up and down. 'That's your uniform now so you may as well get used to it. Wearing any non-issue item will result in the most severe punishment.'

  Reminding Charlotte where the canteen was, he left. Slowly she walked to the long, low building and went up to the service hatch which was manned by a small blonde woman. Behind her was a board offering various drinks, snacks and meals. Charlotte ordered a black coffee and a strawberry tart. They were served within minutes and she pulled a seat over to the counter so that she could chat to the serving girl whilst she ate.

  'I just arrived,' she said, biting into the mouth-watering pastry case.

  'Yeah? We get so many through here that I lose touch,' the woman said. She held out her hand. 'I'm Amy.'

  'Charlotte.'

  The woman glanced at the clock. 'You're aware that pack drill's imminent? Keep in their good books by being on time.'

  Charlotte nodded. 'Do you have to do pack drill?' she asked.

  Amy shook her head. 'I've hurt my back and can't move too quickly - yet for some reason I feel better standing up rather than sitting down. That's why they've put me on canteen duty for the next few weeks.'

  'But before that you were a private?'

  'I still am,' the woman said proudly. 'I mean, I may just be serving meals and drinks but it still counts as serving the island's military.'

  So if she wanted to escape from exercise she only had to claim a sore back. Charlotte filed the information away in case it later proved useful. For now, of course, she was keen to partake in the military training as it would help her win the race.

  A sudden horrible thought struck her. 'Can those of us at the military academy still enter the Annual Race?'

  The woman nodded her head. 'Four of our women and two of our men are already being trained for it. And if my back recovers I may take part in the freestyle section just for fun.'

  Charlotte was about to ask another question but Amy again glanced nervously at the clock. 'You should go, Charlotte. The Colonel keeps a punishment book for every soldier. If you earn black marks on your very first day...'

  Charlotte brushed a crumb from her mouth. 'Okay. How do I look?'

  'Nip into the Ladies and wash your face and hands. You'll also find a comb there. They like good grooming,' Amy said.

  A few minutes later a washed and brushed Charlotte made her way to the miscreant's exercise yard and joined the line of male and female soldiers. All were facing the front, presumably waiting for the man in charge.

  Charlotte studied them all with peripheral vision. The females were wearing the exact same outfit that she was whilst the males were dressed in ridiculous khaki leotards.

  'Eyes to the front!' a loud voice barked.

  Charlotte hastily turned her attention to the man who was now standing a few feet away from her. He was dressed in a khaki shirt, khaki trousers and ankle boots and carried an imposing looking black cane.

  'Feet together,' he called.

  There was a scrabbling noise as twenty pairs of feet moved closer together.

  'Arms at your sides.'

  Everyone obeyed.

  'Now march on the spot.'

  The soldiers broke into an on the spot march.

  Determined to make a good impression, Charlotte marched as if her life depended on it, pumping her arms back and forward and pushing her knees up high. The black coffee and cake had kicked in and her system was full of caffeine and sugar and felt ready for anything. Judging by the men and women on either side of her, the entire line up felt the same way.

  Suddenly their rhythm was broken by the panting arrival of two other girls.

  'Sorry Colonel, we got lost,' one of them said.

  'Shall you get lost again if I send you to fetch my riding crop?' the Colonel said.

  The girls looked at each other in dismay. Glancing at them, Charlotte realised they were the twins she'd last seen on dog leashes near the school. Clearly, the humiliation hadn't improved their behaviour for they had now been transferred to the strict military academy.

  'Buttercup, get your arse over the whipping stool,' the Colonel continued. He looked at Daisy. 'Go back to the equipment store and fetch two riding crops. The longer you take to get back, the longer I have to punish your twin sister with my cane.'

  As Charlotte and the other privates watched, Buttercup walked to the far corner of the yard which housed a permanent whipping stool. Leastways its four legs were driven into the ground.

  'Recruits, move forward to the observation line,' the Colonel ordered and the entire line shuffled over to a painted stripe on the ground.

  Only when everyone was in situ did the Colonel order Buttercup to bend over the stool. Immediately she did so, two privates stepped forward and tied her wrists and ankles to the bars, ensuring that she couldn't escape. The Colonel then yanked the girl's shorts down, revealing a perfect peach of a derriere.

  'I'll cane you till your twin returns,' he reiterated before lining up his stick with the centre of her bare bottom. Charlotte noticed that Buttercup squirmed and that two of the watching males had large erections jutting against their shorts.

  Suddenly the Colonel lashed the cane into the girl's flanks. Buttercup groaned and scrunched up her buttocks. As soon as she relaxed them, the man applied the slender black cane again. The recipient groaned more loudly and writhed helplessly across the whipping stool, watched closely by the other privates on parade.

  Two red lines now decorated her previously sun kissed flesh - and those lines soon became three, then four then five. 'Oh please,' Buttercup began to wail, 'I can't bear it. It's too much.'

  'I've bared it for you,' her superior said, a term that Charlotte had heard often on the Training Grounds.

  'I'll be punctual from now on and...' the girl continued her words followed by her short scream as the Colonel applied the cane again.

  'I hope for your sake that your twin returns soon,' he said conversationally, 'else you're going to have the hottest arse in Christendom.'

  He swished the stick against her reddened rump and she renewed her kicking feet and desperate pleas for mercy. Ignoring her, he focused his encore on her quivering underswell. Buttercup's bottom, which had resembled a peach, now looked like a ruby red apple and her previous snivels had grown louder to an anguished wail.

  'Sorry, sir. So sorry!' she gasped out between lashes.

  'You will be. I've run out of white flesh so now I have to cane over the previous cane marks,' her superior replied.

  Charlotte stared at the glowing globes and felt immense pity for the girl. Her arse must feel like it was on fire. Some of the watching female privates also looked dismayed though a couple of the boys seemed to view this as a spectator sport.

  'This is what a flagrant breaking of the rules will earn every one of you,' the man said as he caned the trembling Buttercup again.

  Suddenly the sound of running footsteps filled the yard and Daisy rushed up holding two riding crops.

  'Good girl. I'll use these on both of you in due course - but for now you get to take your sister's place across the stool for a damn hard caning,' the Colonel said.

 
; Daisy stared at Buttercup's vanquished rump and looked ready to flee, but two privates took hold of her whilst another two untied her sobbing twin.

  Two of the men marched Buttercup, shorts still at her ankles, over to the nearest section of wall and bent her over it, tying her ankles (and presumably her wrists, which Charlotte could no longer see) to metal hoops jutting from the brickwork. This displayed her punished bottom to its full extent. It also meant that the recruits could look at Daisy's white arse in the foreground and her sister's red arse in the background without having to move their heads.

  Not that Daisy's white flesh was going to stay white for long. Charlotte winced in sympathy as the Colonel pulled down the girl's shorts. Like her twin, she clearly favoured the commando-style. Her naked quarters looked incredibly vulnerable on the whipping stool. She was swiftly bound to the device and her superior picked up his cane.

  No one was surprised when Daisy broke down more quickly than her twin. After all, she'd had time to contemplate her punishment as she fetched the riding crops. And she knew they'd be used on her agonised arse when the caning came to an end.

  'No more, sir,' she pleaded by lash four or five.

  'I admire your sense of humour,' the Colonel countered, 'but I've hardly started.' He lashed and lashed, occasionally saying 'And we punish the naughty bottom again.'

  Daisy bucked and wailed. Charlotte thought that this level of punishment was excessive just for being late.

  The Colonel seemed to read her thoughts as he said 'This is for all the times you've been late, for all the mind games you've played with more responsible citizens, for...' He punctuated each criticism with another application of the rod.

  'Buttercup started it!' Daisy gasped out as her buttocks were even more cruelly berated.

  'And we admire loyalty at this military academy,' the Colonel said, soundly thrashing her again.