After she resists arrest while living on the streets, nineteen-year-old Georgia Jones is sent where bad girls go. But the government has more than just correction and reform in mind for Georgia, and when her training at the special facility is complete she is given to stern, handsome Master Sergeant David Heath to be used for his enjoyment as well as that of the soldiers of his platoon
Discipline on the base is strict, and when Georgia fails in her duties she is sentenced to be stripped, spanked, and shamefully ravaged by the master sergeant and his men. But when an enemy attack disrupts the proceedings, will her punishment be called off or merely delayed?
Author: Emily Tilton
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$3.95
Length: 36,300 words
“SRD,” the master sergeant demanded, “are you ready to take your punishment?”
Did she hear in his voice, despite the military severity, a bit of tension? As if the lieutenant’s words hadn’t pleased him very much?
“Sir, yes, sir,” Georgia sobbed, her bottom bouncing a little despite her best efforts to keep herself still. The pain of the last lash had started to fade a little, and to her dismay the bouncing, which she had meant to soothe it, if only slightly, made a new heat begin to build, further forward.
Biting her lip, she opened her eyes, because suddenly she found she couldn’t keep them closed. She needed to see those big cocks in the soldiers’ hands. When she saw them, all of them, up and down the rows of cots, she felt her mouth start to water, and another sob welled up inside her because of how very bad a girl she was.
“Give her twelve more, Master Sergeant,” Lieutenant Stevens said.
“Yes, sir,” the NCO responded. Georgia felt his hand move a little on her back, to grip her waist and keep her in place, and then her whipping began in earnest.
All the arousal that had begun to gather in her pussy vanished at the first lash. Helplessly, Georgia writhed against the controlling hands of the men, screaming in agony as the master sergeant delivered the terrible lesson to her bare bottom-cheeks and her upper thighs.
“Please… please…” she cried, but the strap came down at a steady rate, once a second for twelve terrible seconds. No matter how she writhed, the strong hands held her there so that each lash fell precisely where Master Sergeant David Heath wanted to place it on Georgia’s poor little bottom.
“Oh, no… oh, no… oh, no,” Georgia whimpered now, because she heard the strap drop onto one of the cots, and she felt fingers on her punished bottom-cheeks, opening them and putting something cool and viscous between them.
She had worn a butt plug at BGF sometimes, like the other girls. Anal training had represented an essential part of the regimen there. Some of her fellow inmates had been made to have one after a public paddling, but Georgia hadn’t undergone that humiliation herself. That would just have happened in front of the other inmates, though: now, in front of her platoon, she would know degradation of a kind she had never guessed at before.
“Hold on, Master Sergeant,” the lieutenant said abruptly. “She’ll suck my cock while she gets the butt plug.”
“Yeah, Lieutenant!” one man said.
“Woo!” came from the other side of the barracks.
Clapping came from everywhere, and Georgia’s face felt like it had caught fire.
“Yes, sir,” said the master sergeant. His left hand still held her waist, and the fingers of his right were between her whipped bottom-cheeks. Georgia whimpered as she felt them move, gently, against her smallest, most private place. Did the master sergeant know that he was touching her that way? She heard a whine come from her throat as in a flash all of the arousal the strap had driven away seemed to return in a rush: even at BGF she had never responded this way to a man’s touch on her anus, and it made the blood in her cheeks burn even hotter.