Further Training

by Sarah Veitch

  'My dossier says that the plot was your idea. You get extra strokes now for lying to me, girl.'

  Even as Charlotte protested, she saw him pick up the paddle and disappear behind her back. Seconds later she felt the full force of his displeasure. She cringed against the gym horse and wondered how much more she could take.

  At last, when she was sobbing bitterly, he stopped again.

  'Have you realised that you have to take responsibility for your actions?'

  'I have, sir,' Charlotte whimpered, her bottom burning. She tried to think up further words so that he would remain attentive to her face rather than her arse.

  'And will you show due respect to Mr Leeson?'

  'I will indeed, sir,' Charlotte confirmed pitifully.

  Either he believed her or he simply recognised that she couldn't take any more. Leastways, Charlotte felt various hands unstrapping her from the gym horse. Cruelly they held her hands so that she couldn't protectively cup her punished bum.

  'Lift her over Mr Leeson's knee so he can inspect her,' someone said.

  Quivering anew at this latest ignominy, she felt herself being carried across the yard and deposited over the fruit shop owner's lap.

  'Ah, we're not so uppity now, are we?' he said as she snivelled across his trousered legs.

  'No, sir. I'm sorry about the bird, sir.' Every time she thought of the word parrot she had to fight back a hysterical laugh. She mustn't anger them again. She just mustn't. If they as much as laid another finger on her she'd go mad.

  She fought back a groan of protest as the fruit shop owner continued to caress her nether cheeks. She could feel his erection digging into her belly.

  'Girl, you may want to apologise to our visitor on your knees,' the Colonel said.

  Charlotte hesitated then slid to the ground. She hoped against hope that the man would come quickly. It was terrible having everyone staring at her naked parts - and it would be even more humiliating to perform a sex act in front of them. But on the upside it meant that her bottom was no longer under the man's hateful hands.

  Reluctantly she unzipped him and took the head of his cock in her mouth. He'd obviously been leaking away all the time she'd been strapped across the gym horse. Now she licked and sucked at his hardness, feeling him lengthen and swell.

  'I loved seeing your arse flinch and redden,' he whispered. 'Loved hearing you beg.'

  She pushed her mouth further down his shaft and he came with a shudder and a roar.

  Feeling pleased with herself, Charlotte sat back on her heels, taking care to keep her haunches off the ground. Hopefully they'd let her go back to the barracks now where she could fill a basin with icy cold water and bathe her buttocks. Then she'd... she stilled in disbelief as the Colonel's voice carried across the square.

  'Chocolate has been found in the miscreant's locker and it's part of a cache that was stolen earlier from our storeroom. Her punishment recommences now.'

  Chapter Ten

  At the Colonel's words, Charlotte rose to her feet and made a dash for the gate. But several hands grabbed her and led her back towards the gym horse.

  'No, I'm bored with paddling her over that. Let's have a brainstorming session to think up a new chastisement,' the Colonel said.

  A few of the men and one woman gathered together for a hurried tête-à-tête then the Colonel announced 'Our storeroom manageress Miss Greer will cane the miscreant whilst she's tied over a whipping stool.'

  Miss Greer looked at Charlotte disdainfully then addressed the men. 'Shouldn't I birch the boy first? It'll do her good to watch him howl for mercy. Tie her over the fence so that she's aware of her vulnerability the entire time.'

  'Good idea,' the Colonel said.

  He had no sooner finished speaking than Hank was led into the yard. His face was red - a redness which was explained by the fact that he was dressed only in stockings, a suspender belt and silken female briefs.

  'The miscreant told a friend that he was going on a stealing spree for lingerie and sweets. He didn't find the lingerie - but we've helpfully found some for him. He shall retain the stockings throughout his thrashing,' the Colonel said.

  'Sir, the lingerie was for Charlotte,' Hank muttered, blushing to the roots of his hair.

  'Miscreants lie, so why should we trust you?' the Colonel parried.

  'I've never been...' Hank started but the Colonel held up a hand which immediately silenced him.

  'Tie the girl over the fence so that she can watch the punishment. No, leave her arse bare. Oh and you may as well remove her bra-top so that her tits have a nice little rub against the fence as she wriggles about.'

  It was Charlotte's turn to blush as two men removed her top. Now she was completely naked and knew that her scarlet buttocks must make a strong contrast to her all-over tan.

  She shivered as she was bent over the wooden slats and bound in place, her nipples resting on the scratchy wooden surface. She watched as Hank was bound upright to a whipping post, her concentration turning to his small exquisitely-masculine arse.

  'Thirty over his girly briefs then the rest on the bare,' Miss Greer announced to the smiling crowd. A recruit handed her a large unstripped birch and she lined it up with the youth's haunches. Seconds later she swung it hard so that the long twigs bit into every centimetre of his backside and thighs. Charlotte suspected that the thin silk only added to the boy's agony. Leastways, he cried out and moved his hips the little he could, given how tight his bindings obviously were.

  'Stroke two,' Miss Greer said.

  She applied the cruel multi-rods again.

  'I won't steal any more!' Hank cried.

  'You won't after I thrash the hell out of you,' the woman countered as the birch rose and fell.

  Multiple rips appeared in Hank's rose-coloured knickers. 'It was Charlotte's idea,' he gasped out traitorously.

  'And she'll taste my cane soon enough, the little bitch,' Miss Greer replied.

  Witnessing the scene, Charlotte felt more and more sorry for her own backside which had been so recently paddled. How would it cope with the vicious excesses of the cane?

  'He's lying - it wasn't my idea,' she blurted out.

  'Ten additional cane strokes for the female miscreant for speaking without permission,' the Colonel cut in.

  Hank glared at her then his face creased up in pain as the birch was reapplied to his knickered contours. Miss Greer was clearly enjoying herself as she counted out lash after lash.

  At last she said 'Thirty. He now takes the rest on the bare.' Stepping forward, she yanked the shredded panties to the boy's knees, revealing a bottom that was crisscrossed with tender red markings.

  'Another thirty, I think,' she said.

  Hank howled anew.

  Watching, Charlotte felt sorry for the youth despite the fact that he'd betrayed her. She knew that she too would betray a friend if faced with the birch, paddle or cane.

  Now it was possible to see how each long twig bit into the boy's flesh, leaving broken tramlines. His thighs were also reddened by the rods as they spread out. Giving up all dignity, he writhed against the post and pleaded for mercy - but Miss Greer clearly didn't recognise the word so he was given all thirty on the bare.

  'It's Private Churr's turn now,' the Colonel said, taking the birch from Miss Greer who looked ready to apply yet another birch stroke. 'Tie the boy over the fence in her place.'

  'Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' Charlotte whispered as they unbound her from the wooden slats. She quivered all over as they ignored her pleas and led her towards the whipping stool.

  For a second they let go of her arms and she immediately put her palms over her buttocks, feeling the heat from the recent paddling.

  'I'll go mad with the pain if you cane me,' she begged.

  'Go mad quietly, then, or we'll have to gag you,' Miss Greer said unfeelingly. 'You did the crime and now you have to do the punishment time.'

  'It was only some chocolate,' she said as they tethered her tightly to
the hateful displaying stool.

  'Chocolate for personnel who had earned it - not for miscreants.'

  'You can have most of it back,' Charlotte countered, desperate to take their thoughts away from punishing her hot bare bottom.

  'Oh, I think I'll be making good use of it in due course,' Miss Greer said.

  'Please, miss? I don't understand,' Charlotte mumbled wishing that she could see the woman rather than just talk to a disembodied voice. She felt the cane being traced down her naked rump and her need to talk intensified. 'Please miss, I'll do anything you say.'

  'Well, put it this way,' Miss Greer continued to slide the rod down Charlotte's nether cheeks, 'sometimes I'm a clumsy eater who drops some chocolate on herself. It melts, of course, and a nice young private offers to lick it off...'

  'I'll lick it off, Miss Greer. I beg to lick it off,' Charlotte said eagerly.

  'I've found that a girl with a caned arse licks much more dutifully than a girl with an uncaned arse,' the woman said.

  She must have stepped back for suddenly Charlotte felt the rod biting deep into her flesh. She groaned loudly and tried to shake off the worst off the pain, but her bindings would only allow her buttocks to writhe a little. What she really wanted to do was rub the pain away or at least shake her haunches from side to side.

  'Did that hurt, sweetheart?' Miss Greer asked in a mocking voice.

  'You know it did,' Charlotte said in a choked tone. She remembered how cruelly the woman had birched Hank and suspected she was in for an equally brutal time.

  She cried out as the woman applied the cane again. The stripes seemed to burn deep into her flesh and reawaken the hurt from the previous paddling.

  'I beg to lick you,' she wailed.

  'Oh, I like to heat up a bum before I get my clitoris heated up,' the woman said, caning and caning and caning.

  'Anything. Oh God, I'll do anything,' Charlotte wailed.

  At last the woman untied her and two privates lifted her from the stool. Blinking through her tears, Charlotte could see Miss Greer pulling down her own trousers and panties. Then she sat down on a large armless chair and spread her legs.

  A private brought over a chocolate bar and handed it to the storeroom manageress who quickly put some on her pubis. As she was led forward, Charlotte could see that the confectionery was already beginning to melt in the sun.

  The soldiers let go of her and she sank weakly to her knees and put her mouth to the woman's clit. The crowd broke into loud applause behind her. Charlotte knew that they were all staring at her sore bum but she no longer cared. All that mattered was avoiding another thrashing - and she could avoid one if she pleased this woman now.

  She licked and the woman moaned. Feeling a tiny surge of power, Charlotte licked harder. Her tongue was saturated with the taste of sugar and the saltier taste of the woman's pubes. She licked and licked and licked, her crimson bottom trembling. She forced her mouth deeper into the aroused tissues and the woman groaned some more. Soon she began to lift her mound against Charlotte's lips and seconds later she came with a drawn out wail.

  'I so want to please you,' Charlotte whispered brokenly.

  Miss Greer's expression had already faded from lust to mild impatience. 'You'll please me best by not making sycophantic statements. Just remember that I can redden your arse at any time.'

  Chapter Eleven

  Minutes after Miss Greer yodelled her way to orgasm, Charlotte found herself being marched back to the barracks by several of the Colonel's henchmen. They walked her into her dormitory and deposited her on the bed.

  'Your time is your own for the rest of the day and evening,' one of the recruits said stiffly. 'Report for work tomorrow as usual, Private Churr.'

  'Yes, sir,' Charlotte muttered weakly. They had set her down on her agonised buttocks so she quickly rolled onto her side.

  They left. She wept. Then she slept. When she awoke it was early evening and she could hear the regular soldiers doing their exercise drill in the yard. Meanwhile, miscreants laughed and played cards in various rooms.

  Stiffly, Charlotte stood up and approached her locker. To her surprise, the stolen chocolate was still there. She ate half a bar of it washed down with a jug of the local water and started to feel better - but when she thought of facing the other soldiers tomorrow she began to feel much worse. How could she flirt with the men here, knowing that they'd watched her lick another woman to climax? And how could she ever get anyone in authority to take her seriously when their strongest impression was of her writhing arse?

  What could she do? Charlotte sat down on her bed to ponder the problem. If she simply stayed in bed and didn't report for duty then they'd fetch her and correct her. And if she did report she'd be a laughing stock.

  Unless... she thought about it some more. She clearly couldn't live by their rules - but she could survive by her own rules. Or rather she could live by Nature's rules. She knew a little about survivalist techniques now as she'd catalogued several books on the subject in the army library.

  Charlotte waited until it was dark and until her barrack buddies were asleep then she crept out of the building and hurried to the army surplus store that she'd previously burgled. On her earlier visit she'd only wanted sugary provisions, but this time she needed to steal much, much more.

  Carefully she pulled herself up the wall, finding footholds and handholds in the worn brickwork. Next, she hauled herself onto the roof and tried the skylight, half expecting that they'd have fixed it. But it was still faulty and she slid it back and lowered herself down into the shadowy store. Would they have booby trapped the place to discourage future late night thieves? Or did they simply think that the chocolate had been stolen as part of a distraction burglary during the day?

  For a few minutes she could see very little then her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she opened one of the window shutters to let in the moonlight. It allowed her to find the door leading to the clothing supplies. After much squinting at the packaging and sizes, she got herself a temperate jacket, a windproof smock, combat trousers, an olive green balaclava and woollen waterproof socks and gloves. She already had the standard issue assault boots and training shoes for walking on smoother ground. The weather on the Training Grounds had been perfect so far but she had only lived here in the summer months and wanted to be prepared for any seasonal cold.

  What else would she need? After some searching amongst the store's many items, Charlotte found herself a hexi-burner with fuel blocks, a sleeping bag in a compression sack, a one woman tent, a mini hammock and a space blanket. She added some cake and bars of chocolate to the pile just inside the door.

  She'd come in by the skylight - but it would be too much work to exit the same way with all this merchandise. After searching in vain for a key, Charlotte took a long handled axe from the ironmongery section and chopped out the lower half of the wooden door. Then she staggered through it and stumbled to the edge of the forest with her new clothes, bedding and tent.

  Every ten minutes or so she stopped to catch her breath and drink from the water container strapped to her waist. Occasionally she also nibbled at the chocolate but she was determined to make it last as long as possible. From now on she'd be catching - and if necessary killing - her own food so manufactured foods would be a luxury.

  The first night she was too tired to pitch her tent so simply slept in the sleeping bag under the stars. The following day she awoke feeling stiff and sore. Another chunk of cake and some water revived her and she set off into the forest's depths.

  A sudden sibilant sound warned her of a snake. Charlotte froze and the reptile slithered off into the bushes. Moments later she was startled by a large lizard which raced across her path. Birds shrieked overhead and numerous insects buzzed at her ears and even landed on her head.

  Damn, she'd spent the last few weeks on the partially tamed parts of the island. She simply wasn't used to terrain which was as back-to-nature as this. Charlotte wished for the first time that she'd stolen
insect repellent and brought a first aid kit to treat herself if she was bitten by a snake. Realising that just wearing her shorts and bra-top wasn't a good idea, she pulled on her jacket and combat trousers then sweltered in the sun. Perspiring heavily, she drank again and again from her water bottle and by lunchtime her supplies had run out.

  She couldn't be far from the river which snaked through the middle of the Training Grounds and which had tributaries heading off in all directions. Charlotte walked on, looking out for telltale water flies.

  And at last she found a sparkling brook and filled her water bottle then tipped some into her mouth. To her surprise, it tasted brackish. But she was glad of its presence and quickly set up camp.

  That night Charlotte fell into a troubled sleep - and when she awoke she knew that she had reason to be troubled. Her head felt spaced, as if she was awakening from an anaesthetic, and her limbs were leaden and refused to move.

  For an unknown number of hours she lay there in a terrified limbo, knowing that she couldn't protect herself from any marauding animals that might enter her light tent. She also knew that the other army recruits might be trying to find her and that she hadn't travelled as far from their camp as she had planned.

  At last her ennui passed and she bathed herself in the stream and sat naked on the bank, eating cherry cake. This was pleasant, she thought, as the sun dried the water droplets on her flesh, this was... four male hands grabbed her and held her fast.

  'Private Churr,' said one of the men who was dressed as a police constable, 'I'm arresting you for deserting your post in the army. Anything you say can be used in evidence in a court of law.'

  'But you're policemen. Doesn't the army have its own court martial officers?' Charlotte mumbled, wishing that she was wearing clothes. She put her hands over her pubis to shield it from the constant male gaze.

  The constables stared at her pink-nippled breasts for a few seconds. The older looking of the men was still staring at her teats when he answered. 'The army has washed its hands of you. You're going to the island's prison now.'