Cadet: The Academy

by Commander James Bondage

  “Come over here, next to me,” Cafferson directed. When Robin stood by his chair, he said, “Put your hands in the hip loops, cadet.” Robin complied, and the General quickly tightened the fastenings to confine her hands at her sides. “These belts are an outstanding idea, Lester. Very efficient.” He reached up to place his hands on Robin’s breasts, his palms covering her nipples.

  “Will you be needing me any longer, Bernie?” Colonel Miles asked, rising. “If not, I’ll leave Cadet Bransom to take care of you.”

  “Thank you for the use of your quarters, Lester,” the General replied. “Bransom and I will be fine for the next hour, won’t we, cadet?” he asked.

  “Yes sir,” Robin responded nervously. Objectively, she knew that the presence of the Commandant was no protection for her, but she thought that the General would not feel as free to use her as long as someone else was in the room. She watched silently as Colonel Miles left the room without another word.

  The General did not appear to be in any hurry. He rose from his chair and circled the motionless girl, looking over her fresh body appreciatively.

  “I’ve been monitoring your progress, Bransom,” he said. “Every report from your instructors is good.” He moved close behind her, and pressed his torso up against Robin’s back so that she could feel the bulge in his trousers between the smooth hillocks of her ass cheeks. “Everyone seems to think that you’ll be a fine officer someday.” The General reached around her body to cup her naked breasts in his big hands. He rolled the nipples between his thumbs and fingers, and they quickly swelled to life.

  “Thank… thank you, sir,” Robin stuttered. She had thought that she was used to this kind of handling. Captain Wagner had fondled her breasts so many times in the showers or at inspection over the last weeks that she hardly noticed the indignity any longer. This was somehow different. The General was going to do more than play with her tits or feel up her pussy, she knew.

  Robin heard a ripping sound as he opened the fasteners in the front and rear of her pants, and felt the air on her mound, ass, and legs as pulled the tights over her thighs down to her slender ankles. He drew a sharp breath as he viewed her delicious nude lower body.

  The General’s hand descended on her smooth haunch and slid slowly around its curve to cup its fullness from beneath. Robin felt a pulse hammering in her throat, partly fear, and partly… she was not sure. Arousal, perhaps?

  “The reports fall far short of the reality, cadet,” the General said quietly, his mouth an inch away from her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe while his hands moved together into the separation between her bottom globes, spreading them apart as they went.

  “Pl… please, General… I…” Robin began to plead. She stopped herself, remembering what Jodie Lawrence had said about denying the “bastards” her soul. You can take my body, General, but you won’t have my heart, she thought fiercely.

  The General opened the rosy petals of Robin’s sex with his questing hand, and found that the girl’s body was already responding to his touches. The interior of her pussy was slippery with her juice.

  “Yes, Bransom, you wanted to say something?” he inquired. He had hold of her clitoris, and was manipulating it like an experienced connoisseur of girl-flesh.

  “It was… nothing, sir,” Robin replied. She was breathing faster now, and it was becoming difficult for her to concentrate on anything but the powerful sensation developing between her legs.

  Robin had come into the Army a virgin, although she was not a complete stranger to sex. Back in high school, she had let boys fondle her breasts a few times on dates, and she would occasionally masturbate herself to orgasm. She had never permitted anyone to touch her genitals until she came to the Academy. It was true that the Company Commander could make her body respond to his touch, but she was able to separate part of her mind from him, to ignore him in some basic way.

  This was different. Robin was unable to hold any part of herself back as the General awakened her sexual responses with his hands. She was mot able to reserve any part of herself from him. There was a floodtide of sensation rising in body, and she was drowning in it.

  “Bend over the table, cadet,” the General grunted, his voice low and thick, almost inaudible. “Spread your legs.”

  Robin obeyed to the extent that she could. The dress tights still tangled around her ankles, prevented her from spreading her legs very far apart as she laid her stomach and breasts on the table, but the General did not seem to mind.

  “Lift your ass higher, Bransom,” he ordered. He aided her with a hand cupped beneath her mound, lifting it into the position he wanted. His fingers stroked her roughly, spattering lubrication on her inner thighs. She gasped.

  She heard the sound of Cafferson unbuckling his belt, and a moment later she looked back over her shoulder to see him swinging the doubled length of leather through the air.

  “We need to warm your ass a little first, cadet,” he said, and proceeded to lash her upturned bottom with the belt, leaving a raised pink trail and making Robin yelp in pain. “Don’t move,” he ordered, and he rained sharp blows on Robin’s smooth hemispheres. She bit her lower lip and managed to keep from crying out, due to her previous experiences under the instructor’s batons. However, she could not prevent her bottom from wriggling temptingly under the burning attack.

  After a dozen or more blows, she heard the sound of his zipper opening. “Are you ready, cadet?” he asked.

  “Ah, yes sir, I’m ready,” Robin cried excitedly. She felt the head of his cock touching her swollen lower lips.

  “Do you want it now?” he asked. “Ask me for it. Beg for it, cadet!” he ordered, rubbing the bulging head against her nether lips, but containing his urge to enter the girl’s quivering jelly-box.

  Robin had no control over her body or her mouth. “Please, General sir, please take me right now! I can’t stand it!” she screamed.

  “Since you put it that way,” he said. He drove deep into her tight pouch in a single thrust. The girl screamed “Oh, Goddd!” as a dam of pent-up sensation burst. She felt something tear inside, but she scarcely noticed it as she exploded in a huge orgasm from his first stroke. A flood of her cum ran over his cock and dripped on her thighs.

  He was so big, and Robin so small, that he bottomed out inside her. He could not fit the last two inches of his shaft inside her box. He pulled back and drove deep into her again, asking, “How does that feel, cadet?”

  Her fingers dug into her thighs. “It’s wonderful, sir!” she cried. “Please don’t stop!” she begged. She could feel another tremendous climax building up inside.

  The General had no intention of stopping. He held both her hips in his strong hands, using them to regulate the speed and depth of his strokes. Twice he brought her to the edge of climax and stopped, bringing Robin close to tears in her thwarted need, before he finally pushed her over the top with a savage series of lunges deep into her tight cave.

  The second orgasm was even bigger than the first. Robin moaned and yowled like a catamount, arching her back high to accept as much of him as she could house inside.

  The General pulled his rigid organ out of Robin and came in glistening spurts on her heaving back, buttocks and thighs, grunting his pleasure. He rested his softening rod on her bespattered bottom and said, panting a little, “Now you can say that you’ve met the General Staff. Quite an honor for one so young.”

  The General released Robin’s hands from the belt, and instructed her wash up and rejoin her unit. He instructed her to send Cadet Sandy Merriweather, a tall, lovely black girl, back in the car that would take her to the school.

  Robin showered quickly, washing away the little trickle of blood from her vagina and the semen and sweat from her body. She dressed in silence, saluted the General and left without saying another word. During the ride to class she turned over in her mind what had happened to her.

  She had lost her virginity, but that did not bother her very much. She had never placed much sto
ck in it, figuring that she would have sex with the right man when the time came along. What bothered her more was the way Cafferson was able to dominate her with his voice and his hands, control her body, arouse her and bring her to an orgasm exactly when and how he pleased. When she was in his presence, her defenses vanished, and she felt like a puppet in his hands. He had done it without using threat or force (she did not believe that the spanking with the belt had anything to do with the way she had been controlled), made her welcome his violation of her body, made her beg for it. It was worse than being forced, somehow.

  She was distracted all the rest of the day, earning five painful strokes from the Military History instructor when she failed to correctly describe the Battle of Chatanooga.

  All that day and the next, the cadets were summoned one-by-one to interviews with the General. The next evening before taps, after the General had left the campus, the cadets gathered around Jodie Lawrence’s bed to compare notes. They had a variety of stories to tell. In some instances, they left were alone with the General. Others times, they were joined by Colonel Miles, or Captain Wagner, or sometimes both. They were subjected to different forms of abuse. Cadets Merriweather, Vishnan and Ally Reid, a charming red-head from Chicago, were forced to masturbate with vibrators they had been given while being beaten with a instructor’s crop, until they came while the three officers watched them. Jodie Lawrence and two others were made to kneel before one of the men and suck him off, while another manipulated the girl’s privates. They were not permitted to leave until they had climaxed. Others were taken by two of the officers at the same time, simultaneously fucked and buggered, or forced to fellate one officer while being penetrated by another or were taken frontally while a vibrator was inserted behind. Every cadet was whipped or spanked during her interview with the General.

  They added up what the encounters all had in common: first, every cadet had been sexually used in a humiliating way. Second, no girl was permitted to leave until she had an orgasm. Third, they all thought that the whole process seemed somehow impersonal, as if the General and his cronies were not abusing the cadets for their personal pleasure, or at least, that was not the primary purpose.

  “I think it’s some kind of test,” Jodie Lawrence said at the end. “They wanted to see how we react when they use us, see what kind of sex-toys we’ll be as aides for the brass when we graduate.”

  “They made me…” Kim Lee began, but broke down crying before she could finish. “The Colonel put his penis in my a… ass and I had… an orgasm…” she began again, sobbing. “He said… I was a d… dirty slut… and he must be r… right, because he didn’t … force me… I liked it.” Her hands covered her face and she wept like a child.

  Robin and Steph were sitting next to the delicate Asian girl, and they quickly wrapped her in their arms and gently stroked her silky black hair to comfort her.

  “They forced you all right, Kim, those bastards,” Jodie said in the low husky voice she used when she was angry. “You didn’t have a choice, you were under their orders. They forced all of us, and not just our bodies. They fucked with our minds. They will try to break us, my friends. The only hope we have is to be strong together and to endure. Are we strong, cadets?” Jodie asked, raising her voice. There were tears in her eyes, but her jaw was set defiantly in the direction for the Commandant’s quarters were they had all been violated. “Are we stronger than they are?” she shouted.

  “We are! Yes!” the cadets all shouted back in their high, clear voices.

  She shook her fist at the window. “Fuck ’em,” she yelled, and they lustily repeated the obscenity. “They can never beat us!” the little blonde cried, jumping up on her bed “because…” she paused a beat, and then went on with the entire platoon, “…we’re the cadet cunts!”

  Chapter Six: I didn’t realize I had to like it

  Training went on. They were given new tasks: the cadets, some of whom had never had a license before they joined the service, were trained as drivers. Since they would be chauffeuring high-ranked officers, they were obliged to become familiar with the operation of huge staff cars, big off-road personnel carriers, and any other type of vehicle that their General might ride in. Moreover, they did not merely need to drive; they had to learn radical emergency evasive maneuvers in the event that the vehicle they were driving was attacked from the air or was subjected to a kidnap attempt by terrorists. The course was exciting, but dangerous. Several of the vehicles suffered serious body damage in high-speed collisions, and some of the cadets were banged up in accidents. The worst mishap involved Merriweather, who suffered a concussion when she rolled over the staff car she was driving to avoid a head-on crash, and was put on limited duty for two weeks.

  Winter came early to the Academy, and the cadets were put through exercises in the snow while carrying full packs and rifles (the rifles were loaded with blank cartridges. One of the cadets remarked that she would have had a good use for a few magazines of live rounds). They were given gloves and winter hats for these training sessions, but no new uniforms or even overcoats. Their fatigue skinsuits proved to be warm enough to prevent frostbite, but the cold weather visited a new indignity upon them: the cadets were forced to parade about with their nipples perpetually enlarged from the cold. Captain Wagner and Colonel Miles were not slow to take advantage, and the girls found their tender nubs being twisted and abused unmercifully at morning and evening line-up.

  For six weeks the cadets endured the routine humiliations and beatings, learning their craft and slowly rebuilding their confidence after General Cafferson’s visit had so badly damaged it. Then, in mid-December, the party of generals arrived.

  There were four of them, all bearing the two stars on their shoulder-straps that denoted a major-general. They were lodged in a large, rambling house that had been set aside for important visitors. Cafferson had rejected the lavish digs when he came to the Academy, preferring the simplicity of the Commandant’s quarters, but the four generals accepted the offer of the mansion with alacrity, and demanded the guesthouse be staffed with female cadets to serve them during their stay.

  Indeed, this was the whole purpose of the visit. The cadets were to be put through another session of “training” for the “personal” part of their future duties.

  Six cadets at a time were assigned to work twelve-hour shifts at the residence. Robin and Steph were in the first group; along with the shy Indian, Rahni Vishnan, a bubbly redhead named Ally Reid, Corey Harris, a green-eyed blonde with a complexion like a ripe peach, and an exotic olive-skinned girl of Arabian descent with huge dark eyes and high cheekbones named Minha Fashoon.

  When the cadets arrived, they were made to stand at attention while the four middle-aged generals looked them over and discussed their physical attributes in front of them in the crudest terms. The cadets had their uniform tops opened and their exposed breasts mauled by the four men, who churlishly compared the size and texture of the six girls’ jutting mounds, while the cadets stood impassively. In the end, the four cadets with the largest bosoms were selected by the generals, leaving Robin and Steph, whose breasts were delightfully well formed but not particularly large, behind.

  Robin and Steph were ordered to mix pitchers of martinis at the big wet bar on the first floor and bring them upstairs, while the other four girls each accompanied the general who had chosen her to the bedrooms for their assignments.

  As the two girls opened cabinets and drawers to find the appropriate liquor bottles, pitchers, ice, glasses and trays, they heard faint screams coming from upstairs. By unspoken consent, they both moved slowly and with extreme care to mix the drinks and prepare the trays, as though they were working with nitroglycerine instead of gin and vermouth. This strategy soon proved futile, as they had known it would, when they heard a voice upstairs roar out, “Where are those fucking cunts with the drinks?”

  They each took silver tray bearing a tall cut glass pitcher of martinis, a crystal ice bucket, gold-rimmed martini glasses, and
a dish of olives and tiny onions, and hurried up the big curving staircase. At the second floor landing they hesitated. There was a long hallway stretching in both directions, with doors on either side. They heard a crack! followed by a despairing wail from somewhere.

  “I’m thirsty, Jimmy,” they heard one of the generals complain. “If those bitches don’t get here with the drinks soon, I’m going to make them regret that they ever put on a uniform.” The voice was from of a door on the left that was slightly ajar. Robin and Steph hurried to the room as fast as they could walk without spilling their burdens.

  Robin knocked on the door, and was brusquely ordered to enter. Inside the room they saw their fellow cadets. All four girls had been stripped naked except for their cadet belts. They were bent over a narrow wooden coffee table, with their hands and feet tied together underneath. Their breasts hung over one side, while their bottoms projected off the other. The girls all bore pink stripes on their exposed asses. All four were looking back over their shoulders in fear, and Robin saw that they all bore huge ring-gags the forced their mouths into obscene “O”s.

  The four generals were naked. One of them held a three-bladed black whip in his hand. Two of the men were puffing on their stogies, while two more sent plumes of smoke from a thick glass ashtray on the mantelpiece. The room was thick with cigar smoke, and Steph coughed as she inhaled the smoky air.

  “Where were you little snot cadets?” the one with the whip asked. “I want a goddamn drink.”

  “Sorry, sir,” the two cadets chorused. “Let me pour each of you a drink,” Robin offered, trying to appease him.

  “You pour some drinks, bitch,” the man with the whip told Robin, “and you...” he pointed to Steph, “take off your top and kneel down on the floor. On the double, cadet!”