Cadet: The Academy (14 page)

Jodie was obviously puzzled to hear that
Robin was leaving Seattle three days before her leave was over, but
just as obviously happy that she would be coming to visit her.
There was a plane to Philadelphia in two hours, and she found the
little blonde waiting for her wearing a huge grin on her face when
she got off the plane that afternoon.

Jodie seized Robin a hug that made her ribs
creak, and planted a passionate kiss on her mouth while Robin was
still trying to say “hello”.

“Come on, honeybuns,” she said, grabbing
Robin’s bag with one hand and her friend’s hand with the other.
“The family can’t wait to meet you, and I want a little private
talk
with you myself,” she added with a lewd wink.

Robin was surprised to learn that Jodie was
rich. Their house was a rambling stone mansion set high above a
creek on a big wooded estate in the exclusive suburb of Gladwyne.
Jodie’s parents seemed genuinely glad to meet Robin, about whom
Jodie had apparently told them a great deal, and welcomed her
warmly. Her thirteen-year-old brother seemed tongue-tied in Robin’s
presence.

“What’s the matter with him?” Robin finally
asked Jodie, after Carl turned purple and ran away when Robin had
asked him what grade he was attending in school.

“He’s a little shy because he thinks you’re
the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen,” Jodie said with a smile.
“It looks like you’re irresistibly attractive to the Lawrence
family. Probably my folks are drooling over you too, in private.
Well, they’ll have to get their own Bransom. This one’s mine.”

Robin enjoyed the remainder of her leave with
Jodie, managing to forget her worries about her sister for long
stretches at a time. On the last night, while she was in bed with
Jodie (Jodie’s parents were unbelievably understanding about such
things), she told her the whole story. She secretly hoped that
Jodie, whom she regarded as being much cleverer with people than
herself, would have a solution. She had a difficult time hiding her
disappointment when her friend had nothing but sympathy to
offer.

“No wonder you left,” she said. “This goddamn
conditioning is horrible. I don’t know what you could have done
that would have helped.” She shook her head. “Maybe she’ll have
second thoughts about it and decide not to enlist after all,” she
said hopefully.

* * * * *

When they returned to High Point, the campus
was a beehive of activity. Seven of the empty barracks were being
prepared for occupancy by new class of two hundred and ten cadets
who would form seven platoons of “kittens”, as the first-years
girls were to be called. Workmen rushed around with bedding,
painting the weathered buildings.

The Cadet Cunts were moved out of the
barracks and into dorm rooms, which they had not even known existed
in the labyrinthine school building. Each room was furnished with
two beds, two desks and two cabinets. The cadets were permitted to
choose their own roommates. This did not take long, as most of them
had already paired off during the long, cold winter.

On the third day back, the senior cadets were
told that they would be given a list of kittens for whom they would
serve as advisor. Each senior cadet would be responsible for the
progress of their “section”, the group of ten new girls that were
assigned to them. Colonel Miles spelled out their new duties to the
First Platoon.

“The kittens will receive drill from NCO
instructors, and take classes at the school, but
you
will be
their ‘mother cats’, who will prepare them for the ‘personal’ side
of their duties when they are called upon for these services,” he
told them. “
You
will be required to administer discipline
for poor performance of these intimate duties. Obviously, the more
quickly they learn the new skills required of them, the less they
will suffer at your hands. This should not need saying, as you are
all familiar with our system here, but I will remind you that if
discipline is applied by you with insufficient zeal, both the
kitten and cat will receive the strokes again from an
instructor.”

He went on to explain that the kittens would
be arriving in stages over the following three weeks. About half of
the new cadets were drawn from women who had enlisted as privates,
and had at least completed basic training before coming to the
NWMA, like themselves. The other hundred new girls were new
enlistees, fresh off the street, who would be put through an
abbreviated two-week basic training simply to acquaint them with
the fundamentals of military discipline, such as drill, saluting,
inspections and so on. These kittens would be the last to arrive,
coming to High Point only after they had completed their mini-basic
camp. The Cadet Cunts would receive their section lists the day
before their kittens arrived, and were expected to be present to
meet them when they stepped off the bus. As the Cadet Captain,
Jodie was obliged to meet every busload of new victims when they
arrived. She hated this duty more each time she had to perform it,
until she finally went to Colonel Miles and attempted to resign her
Captaincy.

As she had expected, the Cadet Commandant did
not accept her resignation. He reminded Jodie she would be treated
no differently than any other cadet. The reminder consisted of
ordering the little blonde to bend over to hold her ankles while
the Colonel administered twenty strokes with a cane, and followed
that up with a long and painful buggering.

The day before the final group of kittens was
to arrive, Robin and Jodie were talking about the plight of the new
girls, trying to think of whether they could do anything to lessen
the suffering of the new girls, when Kate Swenson knocked on the
door.

Kate’s normally cheerful face was grim.
“Robin, I think you should see this,” she said and handed a piece
of paper to Robin, turning her face away as she did. Robin looked
at the neatly printed list bearing the names of the section of
kittens who had been assigned to Kate. She was shocked, but not
surprised, when she read the fourth name on the list: “Bransom,
Meredith”.

Her hand fell to her side and the page
fluttered to the floor unnoticed. “Merry, my poor Merry,” she
whispered, “why didn’t you listen?”

The End of Book One

Book Two of the “Cadet” series will follow
the continuing harsh training of Robin Bransom, Jodie Lawrence and
the rest of the First Platoon Cadet Cunts, as well as the
adventures of Merry Bransom as she learns the cruel realities of
the National Women’s Military Academy and gradually comes to
understand the nature of life as a sexual plaything of her
officer-masters
.

Below is an excerpt from
Cadet Part
Two: Duty, Service, Country.

Megan O’Malley had flaming red hair, the face
of an Irish angel, and the body of a Playboy centerfold. She was so
embarrassed by her sexy, big-breasted, curvy hipped, round-bottomed
body that she had joined a convent when she was nineteen to escape
the leering eyes of men that seemed to follow her whenever she
walked down a public street. She had been forced to leave the
sisters when the Mother Superior offered to engage in forbidden
Sapphic delights with Megan. She ran from the convent straight into
an Army recruiting station, and from there was shipped on the High
Point after a short two-week stint at a boot camp near Lake
Placid.

She was shocked at the filthy language used
by the instructors, and more at the casual brutality with which
they handled the young women. But the hardest thing for her to bear
was the attitude towards nudity. Almost the first thing she saw
when she arrived at the Academy was a young woman being forced to
pull down her pants to offer her naked posterior for a beating by
the platoon Sergeant. After that, she was ordered into the showers
with twenty-nine other naked young women. She had been able to
overcome her distaste for disrobing in front of other women to the
extent of being able to function in the Army, but it still made her
uncomfortable.

But she reached the limit of her tolerance
when right into the shower room filled with naked young women
walked two men, the Company Commander, a Captain Salter, and
platoon Sergeant Miller.

The Sergeant shouted “Attention!” and the
entire platoon snapped to as one, all, that is, except Cadet Megan
O’Malley. She clutched her towel and screamed at the two men, “Get
out! This is a women’s shower. There are no men allowed!”

The Captain and Sergeant turned to stare at
Megan as if she was some sort of dangerous lunatic.

“Were you addressing your
Company
Commander
just now, cadet?” the Sergeant asked as if he did not
credit the evidence of his senses.

“Yes, of course,” Megan replied. The other
cadets looked on in helpless dismay at what was about to happen to
the cadet. “This is outrageous, illegal. I am going to write to my
Congressman about this place. You can’t …”

Her righteous tirade was brought to a
premature and sudden end when Sergeant Miller, having assured
himself that he was not in fact hallucinating, stepped close to the
nineteen year old, and drove his fist deep into her solar plexus.
Megan’s world exploded in a fireball of agony. The beautiful
redhead folded in the middle like a carpenter’s rule, and collapsed
to the floor. She curled into a ball, turned red in the face,
coughed and vomited up her lunch.

The Captain moved to stand over her, and
looked down at the writhing figure impassively. “Cadet,” he said,
indicating Merry, “please place this individual’s hands behind her
back in this restraint.” He reached into his pocket and removed a
loop of nylon webbing with a Velcro seal. He slipped the toe of his
shoe under Megan’s back, and flipped her over with his foot, so
that she now lay face down on the tiles.

Merry was horrified at what the Sergeant had
done to the brave but foolhardy girl, but she saw no choice except
to obey the Captain’s command. She knelt on the tiles beside Megan,
crossed her wrists on the small of her back, and opened the loop
and closed it around Megan’s wrists. Megan was still so busy trying
to start breathing again that she hardly noticed what was happening
to her hands.

“While you’re down there, put this in her
mouth,” the Captain said, when Merry had finished. He dropped a
metal ring with a leather strap into Merry’s hand.

Merry looked at the ugly thing, turning it
this way and that, trying to understand what she was supposed to do
with it.

“It’s a ring-gag, cadet,” the Captain said
impatiently. “You put it in her mouth in a vertical orientation. Do
you need me to install it in your mouth so you will know how it
works?”

“No, sir,” Merry replied hastily, “that won’t
be necessary.” She turned the semi-conscious Megan on her side and
bent down to her head.

“Try to relax when I put this in, so I don’t
break any teeth,” Merry whispered to the girl. She seemed to
understand, at least she nodded, and did not offer any resistance
when Merry opened her mouth and forced the big ring in past her
front teeth. Merry quickly looped the strap around the back of the
cadet’s neck and rose to her feet.

“Very good,” the Captain told her
approvingly. “Sergeant, if you will?” he asked, gesturing to the
girl on the bathroom floor.

“My pleasure, sir,” Miller said. He reached
down with one meaty paw and snatched a handful of Megan’s crimson
locks, which he used to pull the naked girl, screaming, to her
feet.

“Follow me, cadets, on the double,” the
Captain said, quickly starting out of the shower room. The women
hurriedly snatched towels to cover their nudity and trailed their
Company Commander through the barracks and outside. Megan
accompanied them, aided by the Sergeant’s iron grip on her mane.
She advanced in leaps and bounds, making agonized cries as she
tried to prevent her hair being torn out by the roots as the
Sergeant led her swiftly along.

They stopped in the small, square field
bounded by four barracks and the Company Commander’s quarters and
office. This was the ‘B’ Company assembly ground, intended for the
use of the four platoons in the company that were housed in the
surrounding barracks.

“Form up, two lines facing me, at attention,
cadets,” the Captain barked.

He stood next to a wooden object that
resembled a utilitarian carrousel horse. It had a horse-like head
at one end, and a stiff tail that stood straight up at the other.
There was a wooden saddle in the middle, with stirrups below
attached by adjustable cables to the sides. Upwards from the saddle
projected a pair of short, blunt shafts made of some shiny,
slippery-looking plastic material. The shaft that was closer to the
head was noticeably wider and longer than its companion.

“Cadets,” the Captain said, after they were
in place, “I want to introduce you all to ‘Ruffian’. She and her
sisters in the other cadet companies represent the revival of an
ancient Army tradition: the return of the cavalry. This cadet…” he
indicted Megan, who stood tearfully beside him now, Sergeant Miller
holding her erect by her hair, “will be the first, although almost
certainly not the last of you to ride Ruffian here. Saddle her up,
please, Sergeant.”

Miller lifted Megan under her armpits and
over the horse with effortless ease.

“Put your feet in the stirrups, cadet,” he
told her. When the terrified girl did, he quickly strapped her in.
A cable connected the two stirrups. Turning a small handle, the
Sergeant shortened the cable, which irresistibly pulled Megan’s
feet higher and closer to her thighs, and obliged her to sink lower
onto Ruffian until the two plastic probes began to penetrate her
fore and aft. She struggled and screamed, “Ah a urin!” looking
pleadingly at the Captain, who raised his hand and said, “Halt for
a moment, Sergeant.” He looked closely at Megan. “Are you trying to
tell me that you’re a virgin?” he asked the weeping girl.