The slender girl hurriedly opened the closure on her top and pulled it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. She sank to her knees, her face an expressionless mask, but her trembling hands betraying her fear.
“You and this other cadet took forever to bring these drinks up here,” he said, pointing the handle of the whip at the kneeling girl with one hand while he accepted a martini glass from Robin with the other.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Steph said in a voice only barely louder than a whisper. She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to prevent tears of terror from forming. “We…”
“Sorry doesn’t get the mission accomplished, cadet,” the general interrupted. “Put your hands under your tits and present them for discipline.” He turned and looked at Robin, who had finished pouring and serving the drinks, and now stood by waiting for orders.
£“You too, Red, get your shirt off and get down next to your buddy,” he ordered, “same position, tits up,” he told Robin.
In a few moments, Robin was kneeling beside her classmate, her sweet pear-shaped breasts held out to the general in unsteady hands. Through all the beatings she had been given at the Academy, all the punishments she had endured, the soft flesh of her breasts had never been subjected to swagger stick, rod, or any instrument of flagellation. None of cadets had. It seemed to be an invisible line that the instructors were forbidden to cross. Now, it appeared that there was no protection for her vulnerable globes. She heard Steph whimper softly.
“Look at the little bitches shake,” the man with the whip said. “Are you afraid, cadets?” he sneered. When neither girl rose to this bait, he turned to his companions. “How many do they deserve, boys?”
“Five, eight, ten!” the men called out.
“Tell you what,” he said, turning to retrieve his cigar from the ashtray, “I’ll give them each just five…” the others booed, “...but if either one makes a sound or breaks the position, we’ll play a little game of ‘blind whore’s bluff’ with her,” he finished, and the others congratulated him. “Great idea, Paul… haven’t played in ages… good man!”
Robin had no idea what nastiness this “game” might entail, but she made up her mind that she was not going give them an opportunity to play it with her.
“Are you ready, cadet?” the one they called Paul asked Robin, raising the whip.
“Yes, sir,” she said. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the whip whistled down.
All three blades of the whip struck both breasts, drawing fiery lines across the pale creamy flesh above, below and most painfully, directly across both nipples. Robin had been prepared for pain, but not this much. She bounced in place, digging her nails into her own flesh, as she barely kept a moan from escaping.
She looked up at her tormentor through a veil of tears. He seemed disappointed.
“She’s a stubborn one, but she felt it, all right,” he told his comrades. “Now it’s your turn, bitch,” he said, turning to stare down at Steph. She was shaking so hard that she could hardly hold her breasts up to be beaten. “This one’s already about to piss herself,” Paul commented. “I’ll give three to one on a hundred bucks that she won’t make it.” Nobody took him up on it, but one of the others offered to take the same bet on Robin, which he accepted.
The whip slashed down again, scoring red streaks on the dark-haired girl’s pearly globes, making them jump in her hands. Steph shook her head like horse bothered by flies, and her mouth and eyes pinched together in agony, but not a sound did she make.
Now there was money at stake, Paul decided to alter the girls’ positions. He placed their hands in their restraining loops behind their backs, and ordered them to put their shoulders all the way back, as if they were at attention on their knees. He leaned over to whisper to Robin, “I haven’t lost one of these bets yet, cadet, and I’ve been making girls like you scream for twenty years.” Robin tried not to let him see how frightened she was by keeping a poker face.
“One at a time is too easy,” he said. “Try this.” He brought the whip high overhead and sliced down across her firm breasts, making them dance, then, without a pause ripped into them again backhanded. The third stroke, cutting into the underside of her virginal mounds made them both fly clear of her chest for an instant, and the final one slashed downward on the upper summits, leaving livid streaks behind. He had gambled that Robin would not be able to withstand a sudden series of blows, and he watched her in eager anticipation as she bobbed in place, shook her head and bit her lower lip until the blood came.
For Robin, the agony was so great at first that her chest was paralyzed. If she could have breathed, she would have let out a lusty scream. But after that frozen moment passed, she mastered her body, ignoring the burning pain, and refused to let the smallest sound escape.
Paul’s face fell in disappointment. He leaned close to Robin and shouted, “There, I heard her moan!”
The others shouted him down. “Don’t try it Paul,” the man who had wagered with him said, “she beat you, fair and square. You owe me three hundred smackers. I do believe you’re losing your touch, old man.” He bent down to Robin. “Nice job, cadet,” he whispered to the weeping girl. “I’m afraid you made a bad enemy though.”
Paul seemed to take his disappointment out on Steph. His next two strokes ripped across her nipples, and she allowed an abbreviated shriek of “Ahh!” to escape before biting down on her lip an instant too late.
“No, please,” she begged, “give me another chance…”
Her plea was abruptly concluded when Paul slashed her sweet titties twice more, making them jog side to side, while she screamed, “Ah, please no more!”
“Well, at least we’ll be able to play our game,” one of the men said. His penis, which had been at half-mast, stiffened visibly at the thought. “Well done, Paul.”
The “game”, as Robin discovered, was so simple as to hardly have any rules. Steph’s hands were retied to her side loops, and a tight latex mask with two holes for nostrils and a nylon zipper at mouth level was pulled over her head. Each of the generals now armed himself with a corrective instrument: cane, paddle or crop (Paul retained the whip). They formed a circle around the helpless Steph and took turns lashing at her nude body, thrashing her breasts, belly, bottom, legs and pubes while she whirled this way and that under the assault, making almost inaudible noises of suffering. They called out scores, yelling things like “That’s a fiver!” and “That one was worth three points, at least” when they landed blows that they were particularly proud of on Steph’s defenseless body. Robin forced herself to watch the whole sickening thing, as a penance for escaping what her friend was now enduring. She could not make out what constituted a five-, three- or one-point stroke, and finally concluded that the “game” had no real scoring system or point except to inflict suffering on a helpless female.
After several minutes of futile attempts to escape the men, Steph fell to the ground and curled into a ball to escape the painful strokes, but the men were familiar with this trick. The one called Paul knelt beside her and said “You are not allowed to lie down, girlie,” and pinched her nostrils shut. In a few seconds, Steph was thrashing on the floor, fighting for air. “Are you ready to play now, cadet?” he asked, and she nodded her head hysterically. He released her nose and stood. “Don’t try it again,” he warned her.
After that, the game went on for a long time without interruption. Steph tried to flee from her unseen tormentors, and they drove her back and forth across the room with cruel blows. The mask forced her mouth tightly closed so that she was able to express her agony only by high-pitched whines.
They varied their fun by slapping her face occasionally. Towards the end, Paul punched her hard in the midsection and she doubled over in agony for a long time before she was able to draw a ragged breath into her lungs.
The generals were all aroused by their sport and their erections bounced joyfully up and down as they pursued their victim around the room. Finally one of them said, �
�I‘m dropping out. I need to fuck one of these little whores.”
The others agreed that they, too, needed relief, and the game ended on the spot. Steph was knocked to the ground and ordered to kneel, put her face on the floor and her ass in the air, in case any of them wanted to use her. After that, the men chose the girls they wished to use. Three of them went to the cadets that they had secured to the table with their rear ends in the air. They began to lash the naked girls, ordering them to raise their asses higher and to beg the men to fuck them. Ally, Corey and Minha did their best to obey these instructions in spite of the horrendous ring gags, shouting “Leas uck ee, ir!” and making their bottoms even more prominent. Rahni Vishnan, who had been chosen by Paul, was not used by him. Robin, who had been kneeling silently where she had been left, hoping to be overlooked, soon discovered why Rahni was not enjoying “her” general’s company.
“I think I’ll take you, cadet,” he said, grinning down at her nastily. “Would you like to be my date tonight?”
“I didn’t realize I had to like it, sir,” she said. Her anger over the treatment of Steph had gotten the better of her instinct for survival. She considered apologizing, and then quickly decided it was too late to do any good. The way his grin disappeared when she replied, she thought, was something she would treasure, no matter what the big bastard did to her.
“That’s true, cadet, you don’t have to like it, do you?” he asked scowling, and slapped her in the face. The force of the blow knocked her to the floor. He pulled her up by her long braided copper hair, and retaining the hold, slapped her back and forth several times until Robin’s cheeks swelled from bruising and her lips leaked blood in several places.
He released her hair, and she had to catch herself to keep from falling forward on her face. Her ears were ringing and the room seemed to be shaking as if in an earthquake. The general’s face appeared before her, studying her eyes.
“Are you still feeling smart, cadet?” he asked. “Or are you ready to follow orders?”
“Sir, I am ready… to follow your orders… sir,” Robin said blurrily.
“Good, that’s the way for a little whore cadet to talk to a major-general,” he said. “Now, do you see the Indian bitch on the table over there?” he asked pointing.
Robin looked. Two of the generals were kneeling in front of their chosen cadets, ramming their cocks into the ring-gagged mouths of the little redhead, Ally Reid and the curly-haired blonde, Corey Harris, who had no choice but to welcome the invaders deep into their throats. The third man was violently fucking the Arab cadet, Minha, from behind, although whether in her ass or pussy Robin could not tell. She was making loud squawking noises, like some large, exotic bird. At the end of the row was Rahni Vishnan, unmolested but for a few welts on her shiny bottom, watching the cruel abuse of her classmates with wide eyes.
“Yes sir,” Robin said.
“I’m going to give you this whip, and I want you to whip that cunt until I tell you to stop,” he said. He ripped open the fastener that held Robin’s right wrist, and handed her the three-bladed whip. Robin closed her hand around the grip of the instrument and rose to her feet, but then hesitated. She wondered if it would be easier to let the general beat her into unconsciousness than have the torture of poor Rahni on her conscience forever.
“If you’re thinking about being brave, I want you to know that if you refuse I will bend her over that table on her back, and you can watch me beat her fat tits bloody,” he promised.
Robin was not altogether convinced that the man would carry out this blood-curdling threat, and thereby risk the wrath of General Cafferson by permanently damaging one of his special cadets, but she decided not to take the chance. The graceful Indian cadet would have to suffer for Robin’s tiny moment of rebellion.
“Sorry, Rahni,” she told her, as the brown-skinned cadet looked back over her shoulder in alarm. “This is going to hurt.” She hit Rahni’s buttocks with less than full force, while trying to make it sound as loud as possible. It was not gentle enough to keep Rahni from flattening herself on the table and shrieking wordlessly through her mouth ring.
“You still want to play games, cadet?” Paul asked angrily, ripping the lash from Robin’s hand. “I want that brown ass whipped, not tickled.” He cut viciously into Vishnan’s exposed bottom globes. The blades made a wet smack! as they met flesh, and the cadet screamed for mercy as she flopped like a newly caught fish on the table in her agony.
He walked to the other side of the table by Rahni’s head, saying, “You will administer strokes like those last two, or I promise you that I will turn her titties into bloody scraps,” and then cut sharply up into his victim’s breasts which dangled temptingly over the other side of the table. Her soft mounds jounced crazily under the assault and Rahni screamed again, louder than Robin had thought possible. He tossed the instrument to her and said, “Now get started.”
Robin later wished that she could somehow obliterate the memory of that half-hour the way that Jodie had erased the memory of her assault by Sergeant Powers. She swung the supple leather again and again as hard as she could, until her body was covered with beads of sweat and she could scarcely lift her arm for another stroke. Rahni Vishnan’s shapely bottom was reduced to a network of welted flesh, specked with little patches of blood where the skin was entirely gone. The other generals had finished fucking their cadets while Robin was flogging her classmate, and they watched the thrashing of the beautiful Indian girl with obvious pleasure.
Paul finally saw that Robin’s arm was so weary that her strokes had hardly any impact. In any case, the coffee-colored cadet was only half-conscious by then, and could obviously hardly feel the whip strike her mistreated bottom. “Enough,” he said. Robin dropped the whip to the floor gratefully, brushed the hair from her face and looked at the general for his next command.
“You hurt your friend,” he said. “Now you will make it up to her by making her feel good. Get on your knees behind her, and lick her pussy until she comes.”
Robin was not bothered by the idea of Lesbianism. When she thought of it at all, she shrugged mentally at the strange things some people liked to do. She had kissed and hugged other girls and women before, but had never felt a hint of sexual interest. The concept of putting her mouth on another woman’s labia, and her tongue inside a strange vagina was unattractive, even a little sickening, but she did not see that she had any choice. There was a bright side, she realized. At least it would not hurt her or Rahni.
“Yes, sir,” she said, resignedly dropping down behind the girl’s corduroyed hemispheres. She pushed the cadet’s legs further apart, saying reassuringly to the dazed girl, “Relax, Rahni, it’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you.” Her fingers gently spread the Indian girl’s nether lips, and she began to kiss and lick the pink flesh before her.
Paul had returned to stand behind Robin as she crouched to service her exquisite teammate.
“Get your ass up, cadet,” he demanded. Robin arched her back obediently, wondering if her bottom was now going to be the target of the whip. She quickly discovered that he had a different use in mind for her curvaceous hindquarters when she felt his fingers smearing something cool and slippery around her asshole.
“Have you ever taken it up the ass, cadet?” he asked. He punctuated the question by suddenly slipping two fingers covered with lubricant inside her little hole and rotating them side to side, stretching her painfully.
Robin’s body jumped involuntarily at the intrusion, and she yelped into Rahni’s vulva. She tried to look back to see what the general was doing, while still keeping her tongue inside her classmate’s slit.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” the general said. Robin heard the quiet sound of a zipper opening, and a second later felt something pressing against her virgin bunghole.
“Don’t stop licking her,” he warned. “I’ll make you a deal: I’ll take it out as soon as you make her come. Now, let’s see how you like my cock up your ass, smart gir
l,” he said. He held his stiff meat in one hand, directing it into her brown rosette, while the fingers of his other hand spread wide the pliable flesh. He took her slowly, partly for fear of damaging his superior’s property (they had all been warned about using the cadets too roughly), partly because he wanted to prolong the act and thereby protract the girl’s suffering.
Robin wept as the general’s rod burrowed slowly into her bowels. The pain was unlike any other she had experienced before; it was so intimate. She knew now that she had been one of the lucky ones up until now, and no longer considered little Kim Lee to be weak because she broke down and wept in Robin’s arms when she recalled Colonel Miles sodomizing her. Robin understood at last what the Asian girl had gone through.
She licked industriously at Rahni’s clit, sucking it in and out of her teeth until she was rewarded with a taste of a musky liquid on her tongue.
The general’s cock was four inches deep in her and her rectum was not growing accustomed to it; to the contrary, the pain was growing. She licked and sucked Rahni with total concentration, forcing the general’s advancing penis out of her consciousness. The Indian cadet responded by lowering her torso on to Robin’s face and moving her hips in a slow spiral as she strained to increase the friction. Come on, Rahni, Robin pleaded silently as she felt the general’s belly against her buttocks and his scrotum gently touched her labia. He had driven his full length into her, and after a pause to enjoy his achievement, he began to slowly back out.
Robin suppressed a scream comprised of frustration, anger and pain. The general’s up-stroke felt different than the down-stroke, but it was no less painful. She licked Rahni furiously, and Rahni moaned and rolled her hips in a faster tempo. At last, Robin thought. She multiplied her efforts, holding Vishnan’s love button lightly between her teeth and flicking the engorged flesh rapidly with the tip of her tongue. This seemed to do the trick. The Indian cadet ground her hips powerfully into Robin’s face, calling out, “Own ah, own ah, ich oo!” A flood of strong fishy tasting fluid poured into Robin’s mouth, over her face, and down her neck and chest as Rahni climaxed at last. Robin turned her head to look back at the general still buried deep in her colon, wiping the Indian girl’s spend off her lips. Would he keep his end of the bargain? she wondered. If he did not, Robin knew that she was helpless to enforce his promise.
Cadet: The Academy Page 7
