Cadet: The Academy (9 page)

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!”

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.