Cadet: The Academy (3 page)

The doctor entered the room, and Kim clutched
the bed sheet to her chest.

He came to the side of her bed, and said
briskly, “Ah, I see you’re awake at last, Cadet. Do you feel better
today?”

She took a moment to consider. There was a
mild throbbing sensation in her lower ribcage, a swollen feeling on
her buttocks where she had been whipped, and a pain in her bottom
hole.

“I think so, but it hurts down in my…” she
hesitated, embarrassed to talk about it, but finally deciding that
since she was talking to a medical man it was all right.

“My… uh, rectum is a little sore,” she said
shyly.

“Well get up, bend over, and let me have a
look,” the doctor said, producing a plastic glove from his lab coat
pocket and snapping it on to his right hand.

She rose from the bed, and bent over, placing
her palms on the mattress and planting her legs apart.

“Raise your buttocks a little higher,” the
doctor urged as his cock began to stir to life in his pants again.
He admired the way the girl blushed modestly at the exposure.
“Stand still, now,” he ordered.

He leaned in and performed an intimate
examination, toying with the lips of her vulva and fingering her
virginal clit until the girl moved uneasily, and mildly protested,
“Doctor, it doesn’t hurt
there
.”

“Be still, Cadet, this is a routine test,” he
replied a little gruffly, continuing to roll her clit between his
fingers until it grew swollen and he smelled her womanly musk.
Reluctantly, he switched to her anal ring, probing it carefully
with his index finger, and causing her to inhale sharply one or two
times. The examination seemed to remind her of some unpleasant
experience, but she was unable to think what it was.

He straightened up, pulling the glove from
his hand. “Have you ever had hemorrhoids?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“It would be a little unusual for a girl of
your age, so I don’t think you are developing them,” he told her.
“Just come back in two days, just to make sure there’s no
problem.”

“Thank you so much, doctor,” Kim said
gratefully. “Could you please get me my clothes? I have to report
to my unit.”

Chapter Three: Administrative
Discipline

Cadets Bransom and Carroll had no trouble
finding “B” barracks among the many rows of identical buildings, as
it was the only occupied structure in the area, and in any case
they could hear Sergeant Powers bellowing long before they saw the
light streaming from inside.

They glanced at each other and hurried
forward, almost running up the four wooden steps to the door.
Inside, they saw a double row of metal frame beds on a linoleum
floor, each with a green plastic container at the foot. Each bed
had a window at the head and three small shelves set in the wall
under the window. Next to each bed was a wooden desk and chair.
Some of the cadets were making their beds, and others, who had
apparently finished, were standing in front of the green boxes at
the foot of their beds, at parade rest, with their hands clasped
behind their backs, and their feet shoulder-width apart.

“I want you cunts to
move
,” the
Sergeant shouted as Robin whipped the flimsy screen door open and
pushed inside, side-by-side with her companion. Powers glared at
them. “So, the two angels of mercy have decided to join us at
last,” he commented sourly. “What did you do with the other cadet?
Not that she would be any use if she
was
here.”

“Sir, the Regimental Surgeon said he was
going to keep the cadet overnight for observation,” Robin said,
bracing to attention and saluting.

“Thank you for the information, Cadet…” he
paused and peered at her nametag, “…Bransom. Now I will tell you
something: you see these stripes?” he asked, tapping the chevrons
on his sleeve.

“Yes, sir,” Robin answered.

“They indicate that I have the rank of
Sergeant,” Powers said. “A Sergeant is a
non-commissioned
officer,”
he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You
only address
officers
as ‘sir’,
not
non-coms. Are you
able to grasp that concept with your tiny brain, cadet?” he asked,
his voice rising threateningly on the final question.

“Yes, s…Sergeant,” Robin replied, blushing
with mortification. Of course she had learned the difference
between officers and NCOs in her first day at Basic, but she had
been taught to address her drill instructors, whether sergeants or
even corporals as ‘sir’ during training. “I understand,
Sergeant.”

“On the other hand,” he went on, turning to
address the entire room, “you would normally not be expected to
salute
an NCO either. But in the Academy, where there is a
shortage of officers, you will be expected to salute
all
of
your instructors of whatever rank as a show of respect. Is that
understood, cadet cunts?”

“Understood, Sergeant,” the girls
chorused.

Powers turned to the girl at the first bed, a
petite blonde whose face somehow suggested mischief. “Cadet
Lawrence, have you properly completed your assignment?” he inquired
in a tone that suggested he doubted it.

Lawrence saluted, and shouted in a
penetrating soprano, “Yes, Sergeant. I have completed my
assignment!”

Powers jerked his head back at the
ear-piercing screech, and glared at the cadet suspiciously for a
long thirty seconds. Lawrence’s face was empty of expression, but
both Robin and Steph had to struggle to maintain poker faces.

Finally, the Sergeant shook his head, and
said, “Cadet Lawrence, you will instruct these cadets about the
assignment. I am going to
kick some cadet butt,”
he finished
with his normal roar. He moved off quickly, and a moment later they
heard the meaty smack of a swagger stick on flesh, followed by a
female shriek.

Cadet Lawrence paid no further attention to
Powers. She looked up at the taller girls with a little grin
playing on her lips, and recited: “The cadets are to empty the
contents of their duffle bags into the containers provided. Cadets
are to retain the following items: boots, socks, fatigue caps,
prescription glasses (if any) and personal identification tags.
Cadets are permitted to retain one personal photograph. Cadets will
place all other items in the storage containers, and will identify
said container with the cadet’s name. Cadets are not to retain
any
items other than those specified. Is that understood,
cadet cunts?” Lawrence had mimicked the exact phrasing and delivery
of Sergeant Powers like a magpie, forcing Robin and Steph to clap
their hands to their mouths to avoid bursting out laughing. A few
snorts escaped from Robin when the pint-sized blonde spat out the
final two words.

“Understood,” Robin said, clamping her jaws
together to suppress a giggle, and moving to one of the vacant
beds. She quickly went through the contents of her bag, saving her
extra pair of boots, six pairs of socks and her spare mottled gray
cap. She placed the picture of herself, her kid sister and her
father relaxing on the beach in Florida on the top shelf over her
bed. It seemed a little strange to Robin that the cadets were
permitted to keep so few of their possessions. She wondered what it
meant as she closed the green container and carefully printed her
name on the block of white provided with the black marker that had
been provided. She quickly made the bed, making certain that the
sheets taut were enough to bounce a quarter, and stood at the foot
of the bed in parade rest. She was not the last; Steph finished a
few seconds later.

Sergeant Powers inspected their work without
showing any sign of approval. “You cadet cunts will learn to do
better than this, or I promise you, you will be sorry,” he barked.
“All cadets will take the personal containers outside the barracks
and stack them neatly to the left of the steps. After all
containers have been removed, the entire platoon will report ASAP
to the shower room. You will place all items of clothing that you
are now wearing in the receptacles provided. Cadet uniforms will be
provided after you have showered. Move!”

There was some confusion, until the women
managed to work out how to carry the bulky containers down the
narrow aisle without knocking into each other, but in a few minutes
the plastic bins were stacked in a neat row outside the building.
Cadet Lawrence, the first cadet out because her bed was next to the
door, remained outside to direct the stacking of the containers,
making certain that the job was done neatly and efficiently. Robin
was impressed by the ease with which the little blonde took command
of the little project.

After the last cadet had returned to the
barracks, the women crowded down the aisle between the beds to the
rear of the building that contained the latrines and showers. They
eagerly stripped off their clothing, which some had been forced to
wear for three days, and tossed it into large trash barrels,
talking excitedly. There were piles of towels on shelves across
from the showerheads and some of the naked cadets grabbed them.
There only were ten showerheads altogether, and there were some
collisions as they tried to coordinate which girls were to take the
first turn under the water. The shower room was really too small
for so many of them at once.

Suddenly, from just outside the entrance to
the shower room, they were shocked to hear Sergeant Powers’
unmistakable roar: “Atten-shun! Officer in the barracks!”

There was a little shriek from someone (Robin
could not see who), and a dark-haired man with a medium build
wearing the bars of Captain and carrying an instructor’s baton,
walked into the room, Sergeant Powers at his side.

Robin was shocked by the intrusion by the two
men into the showers. In boot camp, the male instructors respected
the privacy of the female boots that they commanded, never entering
the showers when the female boots were exposed. But, as she had
already discovered, the rules at the Academy were obviously
different. Along with the other naked cadets, Robin stiffened to
attention and saluted. The Captain lazily returned the salute. One
cadet was not at attention; she modestly held a towel over the
front of her body instead of dropping her arms to her sides as
prescribed by regulations.

Powers went to her immediately, positioning
his face a few millimeters from the erring cadet, a beautiful
dark-skinned girl of Indian (Asian) ancestry that Robin had not yet
met.

“Cadet, did you hear me order you to
attention?” he screamed.

“Y… Yes, Sergeant, I heard you,” the girl
replied shakily, not looking at him.

“Then why are you not at attention this
second
?” he bellowed, making her close her eyes.

“I… I don’t have any clothes on, Sergeant,”
the Indian girl quavered. A tear gathered in one eye, and slid down
her cheek. “I’m naked, Sergeant.”

“What is your name, cadet?” Powers yelled
again, unrelenting.

“Cadet Vish… Vishnan, Sergeant,” she forced
out.

“Cadet Vishnan, you will now do the
following,” Powers shouted. “You will drop the towel…” He waited,
watching as she let her protection fall to the tiled floor. “…you
will turn to face the wall…” Again he paused, waiting for the
quivering beauty to obey. “…and you will bend at the waist, keeping
your knees locked, and hold your ankles with your hands.” The cadet
made a tiny sound as she took this humiliating position. Powers put
his boot between her feet, and pushed at them. “Open up your legs
wider, cadet,” he said. “I want you to be able to see me while I
discipline you.” A little involuntary cry escaped from the
miserable Vishnan when Powers said this.

Powers turned to the Captain. “Perhaps you’d
like to administer the correction, sir,” he said, gesturing at the
doubled-over cadet. “I know how you like to get personally involved
in training.”

The Captain smiled and waved his hand
indifferently. “No, no, that’s fine, Sergeant. I’ll just watch,
along with the cadets. I’m sure this will be a salutary lesson for
us all.”

The Sergeant bent low to whisper something in
the unfortunate Vishnan’s ear. Robin could not hear what he said,
but the effect on her was dramatic. The Indian girl burst into
tears, and exclaimed in a terrified yelp, “No, no, don’t do that! I
promise I won’t move!”

The Sergeant seemed to be in no hurry. “Cadet
Vishnan, look at me,” he said. “Do you know why you are being
disciplined?”

The cadet looked back between her legs at the
Sergeant, her huge brown eyes filled with emotion. “Yes, Sergeant,
I do. I failed to stand at attention when ordered to do so.”

“You disobeyed a direct order from a superior
officer, a court martial offense, cadet,” Powers said mercilessly.
“Do you want a formal trial, or are you requesting administrative
discipline?”

“I… ask for administrative discipline,
Sergeant,” the trembling girl forced out.

“You will request ten strokes of the swagger
stick as your sentence, after which this incident will be wiped
from your service record,” Powers told her.

“Sergeant… I request… ten strokes…” Here she
broke down again, unable to continue for nearly a minute. The
Sergeant waited patiently, seeming to savor the girl’s misery.
Finally, she said, “I request ten strokes as my just punishment for
my failure to obey orders.”

“Very well,” Powers said, stepping back and
swishing the thick, flexible instrument through the air. “You will
count each stroke aloud, cadet. Keep your legs straight,” he
cautioned. He raised his massive arm and brought the stick down and
then up to cut into the soft flesh on the underside of the naked
cadet’s prominent bottom globes. The blow was so hard that the crop
sank almost out of sight into her buttocks, making a wet
smack
! This stroke was far harder than any that he had given
to Kim Lee earlier in the day.