Little Soldier: the Training of a Submissive

Chapter 1: THE INTERROGATION

Description:

I work as a secretary at the General's office in the **** barracks of North Queensland. One day two masked and hooded men broke in and violently interrogated me.

Body:

The day was pleasant enough. The General was away and I was sorting through correspondence at his desk when suddenly two masked soldiers burst in. They were dressed in combat gear and had balaclavas over their faces.

The first one rushed to the desk and slammed down his rifle. I pulled back in alarm.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I – I'm General Hood's personal assistant," I stammered.

"Where is he?" he shot back.

"He's on vacation. Till Thursday. They've all gone away for the Training Day. What's happening? What are you doing here?" I managed to squeak.

The other one, still standing at the door, spoke to me.

"How can we be sure you're not the enemy?"

"The enemy?" I stuttered.

"We're on war games. There's an alert out," said the first, darting to the window, his rifle raised. "You could be the enemy."

"Well, I – I – I'm not," I said coming to my senses. "Look, I have a security pass."

"Let's see," said the one at the door striding over to where I was sitting.

"Better close these blinds," said the guy at the window. "And lock that door from the inside, Dave." He was pointing to the only door out of the room. They won't find us here – if we're in the General's office."

Dave took my pass which was hanging round my neck and stared hard at the laminated finish. I stood up shakily. We were standing very close.

"Lucinda Moore. That your name?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes," I muttered, looking down and away from him.

"This could be fake, Phil." He dropped the pass and turned to Dave. Then just as suddenly he rounded on me.

"How can you prove that you work here and that you're a personal assistant?"

"Well, there's no way. You'll just have to take my word for it," I tried to sound calm and not threatened by the guns and violence that hummed in the air.

"Don't you have a payslip or –"

"Look," I moaned getting seriously desperate, "I'm just a secretary. I do the books – pays, things like that. Really, I'm not a threat. I don't know what you're doing here. Please let me out."

"So you have a list of employees on this computer?" said Dave, ignoring my plea and swinging his rifle idly towards the computer on the General's desk.

"Yes," I said.

"So find Lucinda Moore and that'll prove it," Dave said abruptly.

Anxiously, I opened the program, scanned the names and clicked on mine. Within seconds, I had printed mine out. Phil peeped out of the blinds and Dave got closer and closer to me.

"There!" I said as I snatched it off the printer with relief. "You see, I'm Lucinda Moore and I'm PA to General Hood.'

Dave studied it for a minute or two. I thought he still didn't believe me.

Finally he said, "So you're Lucinda Moore and you live at 35 Sunshine Road, Perton. Married with no kids. Husband's name: Brandon." He paused at looked at me straight in the eye. "You're twenty-three years of age and you've been here eighteen months."

"Yes, yes, that's right. That's me." I went to take the paper from him but he folded it against his chest and pocketed it.

I looked at him in silence.

"We better go, Dave," said Phil, turning back into the room.

"Why?" asked Dave slowly. "Nobody'll think of looking for us here. We could stay here until ops finish."

"What – hide out here?"

"I think it's the perfect place." He looked me up and down, his rifle slung to one side. Slowly, he brought the weapon up the inside of my thigh and lifted my skirt. He pushed it right up to my panty line so the skirt flared up and revealed my long legs.

"So, Lucinda Moore of 35 Sunshine Road Perton, what are you doing for the next hour?" I cowed from the touch of his gun. "Or two?"

"Are you really thinking of -?" began Phil.

"I reckon she'd be a goer, don't you, Phil?"

Phil started appraising me as if he hadn't noticed before. I cursed myself for wearing my low cut blouse to work that morning. Instinctively, I pulled my jacket over my cleavage. He continued looking at me.

"I don't know, Dave," he said as he walked over towards me. "You'd better ask her."

"Are you a goer, Mrs Lucinda Moore? Do you like it when your husband stuffs you like a baked tomato? Do you cum all over him? How often do you do it? Heh? I only want to know. You can share that, can't you?"

"I – I – have to go. I can't stay. Please let me go."

"Ah, the little princess wants to go. Shall we let her go, Phil?"

"I don't know, Dave," said Phil, stepping forward. "It depends if you think she's the enemy or not. I mean, if she's the enemy, we have to get certain information out of her."

"You know what, Phil, that's very good thinking. Mrs Moore, are you prepared to answer a few questions?"

I started to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not the enemy. I know nothing. I just work here. Please let me -"

"Right!" shouted Dave and he slapped me fiercely across the face. "That's enough of that. No crying! Do you understand? While we interrogate you, you will behave like a proper soldier! Have you no respect for yourself?"

"That's right," said Phil. "Pull yourself together."

"What do you want to know? I don't know anything. Nothing at all."

Dave moved closer to me. His gun was still brushing against my inner thigh.

"On the contrary, Mrs Moore. You know a lot of secrets."

"What secrets?"

"Like, for example," he said as if conjuring up the question out of thin air. "How often do you and your husband – what's his name, Brandon? – fuck?"

Phil had come round behind me and started brushing his fingers up the inside of my skirt from the back. I cursed myself for wearing something so short. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"Didn't you hear me??" shouted Dave. "I'll ask you again – how often do you and Brandon do it?"

"What? Well – I don't know..." I trailed off.

"We can soon find out!" said Dave sharply and he grabbed my neck and twisted me onto my back on the General's desk. I launched myself up but he was quicker than me and slammed me back down by my throat. Phil leaned over and pinned me by my shoulders.

Dave placed his rifle against the desk and pulled out a switchblade. I could see him through the balaclava licking his lips. Suddenly there was silence. Dave had my throat. Phil had my shoulders. And I saw Dave's knife come closer and closer.

"Oh, no..." I murmured.

"What's that, soldier? Are you capitulating?"

"What do I have to do? Just tell me and I'll do it," I asked pleadingly.

"Just answer some questions. Then we'll go away," said Dave.

"Sure," said Phil. "We have some questions. That's all. We promise."

"What do you want to know?"

"How-Often-Do-You-And-Mr-Moore-Make-Love?" Dave said as if he was spelling it out to me.

"A-a-a-bout twice a week... I think," I stammered.

"And when did you last make love?" he asked, pronouncing every word as if I was deaf.

"I don't know. Last Sunday, I think."

"Good girl, that's very good," he looked up at Phil. "So, Phil, do you think she's telling the truth?"

"Nah!" said Phil dismissively. "No, you can smell cum on her."

"Can you?" Dave asked innocently. "Can you really, Phil?"

"Yeah, and I reckon that's bullshit about only doing it twice a week. You can see she's as horny as hell. They're probably going like dog and bitch every hour of the day."

There was a pause.

"My partner thinks you're lying, soldier," Dave stated. "I think we have to find out."

He bent out of my sight and the next thing I felt was my skirt being thrown over my belly. I stared up at Phil with tears in my eyes. I was silently asking him to stop this.

"Oh, look at this, Phil. Look at these panties. These aren't married women's panties. These aren't good old stay-at-home-with-the-slippers panties. These are your real come-on, frilly fuck-me panties. Either Mrs Moore has a lover, or Mr Moore is one very lucky man." He ran the blade of the knife over the top of the white lace panties. Slowly, very slowly.he brought the knife back into my view.

"Now," he said softly. "Do you know what I'm going to do, Lucinda? You don't mind if I call you Lucinda, do you?"

I struggled a smile through gritted teeth and bit my cheek to stop myself crying.

"I'm just going to have a sniff.... Down there. To see if you've been telling the truth. Okay with you?" He paused. "Do you think that's fair enough, Phil?"

"I think that's very fair, Dave. You have a captive. They tell you information. You gotta check that information. Go for it."

"Good! Now, Lucinda, I'm going to have to get rid of the panties. And the quickest way is to slice them. I hope you won't mind a knife so near your privates. I assure you I'm very careful. Very careful. But of course, if you move, you might get – cut." I took a sharp intake of breath. He pulled the panties away from my skin and sliced them in two in one quick movement.

Without pausing for breath, he got down on his knees, yanked me towards him, cunt first, and ripped my soft skin apart with his fingers.

"Pull her down further, towards me, Phil," he commanded. Phil slid me across the desk by my shoulders towards Dave's hungry face. His fingers pulled at my delicate skin and he buried his nose in my cunt. After a moment, he pulled away again.

"You know what, Phil?"

"What?" asked Phil.

"You were absolutely right. This slut has had it and she's had it recently." He tossed one leg aside, paused significantly and turned to me. "You've done it today, haven't you? I can smell it on you. You little whore. You're as wet as the fucking ocean."

"Yes," I admitted. "I did... I'm sorry. I- I – I –"

"You lied," said Dave with finality. And he brought out a hand gun and held it to my face. "Don't ever lie again," he said, bringing the gun up to my cheek. "Never lie to Private Phil and Sergeant Dave. We don't like it. You got that?"

"Come on, Dave, we haven't got much time. Let's just do it and piss off. Someone'll come in."

"Yes," I said quickly. "Someone'll hear you."

"Don't you remember anything, Phil?" asked Dave sarcastically. "They're all way on Training Day." And he turned back to look at me as he almost sing-songed the words. "We've got the whole afternoon to play with Lucinda Moore. And is there anything else you'd rather be doing, Lucinda, than helping two regular guys in the Australian army get their rocks off?"

It was then I knew I'd had it. I knew there was no way out. The best thing I could hope for was to come out of it in one piece and to make it happen as quickly as possible. I stared up at him and said quietly, "No, Dave. There's nothing I'd rather be doing than helping you get your rocks off."

"Good girl, Lucinda. But remember, we're in the army. You call me Sergeant kor Sir and you call him Private. Got that?"

I nodded and swore to myself I'd end this quickly.

"So, Lucinda," said Dave, taking the gun away from my cheek. "You have been rutting with someone. We were right, weren't we, the private and I?"

I nodded sadly.

"Whose cum is it?" he asked lazily.

"My husband's."

"And that's the truth?"

"Absolutely."

"You wouldn't lie to us again?"

"Never."

"Cos, you know, we could have a little accident here." He put the switchblade back in his pocket and slowly took out a hand gun.

"Common, Dave. My balls are killing me. Let's just get into her and quit wasting time," moaned Phil, clutching his groin.

"I'd like to find out a few things about Lucinda Moore before we go any further, but what do you think, Lucinda? Should we get down and dirty straight away?"

I was at a crossroads. If I carried on talking to them, someone might come and frighten them off. If I let them have their way now, it'd be over quicker.

"Your call, Lucinda," repeated Dave. "Whatever you say is fine by us."

"I think – I think I'd like to talk a bit more," I suggested hesitantly.

"Okay, let's talk, but I want you to know –" he paused as drew a line down my body from throat to clit with his handgun " – I want you to know that we'll just keep my friend here around so's he can keep you honest. Cos you're a lying bitch, Lucinda, and everyone knows it. Isn't that so?" He paused. "Pardon? I didn't hear you..."

I nodded my head violently as he slipped the gun in between my legs and rammed it in my cunt sharply.

"Ow!" I yelled. "Yes, I'm a lying bitch."

"Wow!" he gushed. "That's a nice feeling. What to feel this, Phil? The gun's right in her hole. Right up to the trigger. There's not a thing she can do but wriggle. Hey, Lucinda, can you wriggle out of this one?"

Dave got the gun in my cunt and started twisting it slowly and methodically about. Phil let go of my shoulders and I struggled up.

"Down, girl. We've got you right where we want you," ordered Dave. So I lay there while the two of them watched the gun going in and out of my cunt. "In – Out – In – Out." They set up a rhythm. I had to move with it to stop the pain.

After a while, Dave stood up. "You know, she's not slow on the uptake. Can you feel her moving with us, Phil?"

"Sure can, Dave," said Phil.

"I think she's hungry for it. And look at the gun," he laughed. "it's covered in her juices!!"

"Please, please take it out!" I was terrified but lay back like I'd been told. I was so worried the thing would go off and explode inside me.

"Now, now, calm down, it's just a little incentive for you to talk honestly to us," said Dave as he carried on sliding the gun in and out of my love hole.

"What do you want to know?" I whispered.

"Now this Brandon Moore. Is he a stud?"

"What? Yes, yes, he is."

"Hmmm... How big's that then?"

"I don't know. About six inches. I don't know. I'm sorry."

In – Out – In – Out. It was cold and hard in my pussy. I'd never had anything up there except Brandon.

"And do you do it doggy style?"

"Yes, sometimes. Really, please, I'll tell you the truth. Just take the gun out!"

"And do you suck him off?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes. Please stop. I can't think with that thing in me."

"What about your ass hole?"

"What??? NO! Never!"

"Really. Now that is interesting. And have you ever done it with two guys at the same time?"

"No, never. Please, please stop."

"You know, Private Phil, this bitch keeps on forgetting to say my rank. And it's getting on my tits! What shall we do to her?"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Sergeant Dave."

"Talking of tits, what size are you?"

"36D.... Sergeant."

"That's big. Can't see them under that jacket. Can you see them, Phil?"

"Nope."

"I think we should let the little babies bounce. Do you want to see them bounce, Phil?" He was still pulsing the gun in and out of my hole and backwards and forwards across my clit. "You do it. I'll carry on with the interrogation."

"I'm just busting, Dave. Can't we just go for the kill? Let's fuck her now."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm as happy as anything here. But Lucinda, you see the poor boy's problem?" He motioned to Phil's growing stiffy under his combat gear. "Yes, you go on, Phil. You take the face. I'll carry on here."

Phil grabbed me by the back of the neck and hauled me up. He took one arm out of my jacket and then the other. He pushed my head back down on the desk. It hurt. Then he tugged at his belt buckle, undid his fly and pulled his trousers down. His small cock was fit to burst. What it lost in length, it made up for in circumference. I turned my eyes away.

"And what about masturbation?" said Dave in his most friendly tone. "Do you like pulling the cherry?"

"Yes, sometimes."

He rammed the gun home and shouted, "Stop with the 'sometimes'! When do you do it? How do you do it? Tell me, and tell me now, and, if you forget to call me 'Sergeant' one more time, you'll never see the outside of this room again!"

Even Phil stopped what he was doing.

"Yes, sergeant," I said, dropping my head back on the desk.

There was a silence for a moment and then Phil mounted the desk and sat on my chest.

"Don't do that yet, Private," said Dave. "How's she going to talk if she's got a mouth full of cock?"

"But Dave – " Phil murmured.

"Turn around and sit on her shoulders. Put your dick between those big assets of hers."

"Hey, that's a good idea," Phil agreed and began to turn around.

"So – what's with spanking the beaver, Lucinda? Tell us all and give me details."

"I – I – " I could hardly breathe with Phil's weight on me, but I struggled to speak. "I do it alone in the shower. I get off on feeling the hot spray on my breasts and my – "

"Titties. You will now call them 'titties', Lucinda. They are just there for our pleasure. So give everything its right name. This is a –" and he jabbed the hand gun in forcefully, "cunt." He pulled the gun out and waved it at my breasts. "Those are your titties. This is – " he paused a moment as he looked down. "And this is your clit. Got it? Wow, it's standing up for good old Sergeant Dave! Look at it rise! What a red little clit it is!"

"Yes, sergeant," I agreed.

"Give me the knife, Dave, I want to take off her bra," interrupted Phil.

"Pretty bra," Dave commented as he handed Phil the knife. "You'll have to go round with no panties and no bra for the rest of the day, Lucinda. What will little Brandon say?"

I couldn't answer this as Phil was sitting on my neck.

"Please – I can't breathe," I whispered.

"Get up, Phil. Be a gentleman. Take the weight on the table."

So Phil got up and put one leg on either side of my arms, pinning me down and facing Dave who was at my crotch and leaving his arse for me to look at.

"You know, Phil, that's a lovely sight. We should take a picture of that. Got a camera?"

Phil was engrossed in batting his stiffie against my floppy breasts.

"Phil, you got a camera?"

"Huh? No. Oh, I've got my mobile."

"I'll get it out. He went to move away, but suddenly remembered the gun in my hole. "Now, Lucinda, would you like me to remove the gun or would you like it to stay there?"

"Please take it out, Sergeant Dave, please."

"Since you remembered so nicely what to call me, I will," and he took out the gun and sniffed it closely.

As he picked up Phil's trousers and took out a mobile phone, he said, "You know what, Dave, this slut's been creaming herself all this time. The gun's as wet as anything. Can you believe she's that sick?"

"I – can – believe – anything – Dave," said Phil, cupping my breasts around his dong and squeezing them tightly, humping them up and down.

"Ah, here we are," said Dave, standing to the side and surveying the scene - Phil on top of me, his arse in my face and walloping his meat against my titties.

"That's great!" he said snapping away. "But smile, Lucinda. Remember you're on Candid Camera." Then he had another idea. "You know what you should do, Phil? Lower your arse and make her lick it. I think she'd go for that. Wouldn't you, pussy?"

I tried to move my shoulders but they were pinned on either side by Phil's legs. Suddenly, his bottom came down on top of me and Dave kept clicking away.

"What do you say, pussy? Thank the kind man for offering you his butt to lick."

"Thank you, Private Phil."

Phil just moaned and gasped. He was well away. I knew it wouldn't be too long before he blew his load and crawled off me. So I decided to do everything I could to get him to cum. I raised my head and licked and slobbered and pushed my tongue right up his arse. It was tight and round. Then I lifted my head and licked down to his balls.

"Wow! This is so tight! What a cute pink ass hole you have, Private Phil. Can I do this again? And again?" I managed to gasp as he rode me from above and I arched my pelvis.