Sally Newton just got a new assignment, as an orderly to the newly appointed Chief of Defence Staff Lucretia de-Billiard, the highest ranked and most decorated woman in the history of the British Armed forces. She has long admired de-Billiard, who had attained the rank of General at 45, making her a role model for any aspiring young woman in the Armed Forces as well as a true legend of her generation. Such a feat was practically impossible to surpass. But then, it was at least a prospect.
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Newton had been recommended by her supervising Warrant Officer, James Leighton, who had found her highly "intuitive and sharp minded". The list for the job was a very short one, but she aced her interview and she got a call from the CSO to the Chief telling her she'd gotten the job. Newton had only seen de Billiard twice before their first meeting; the first was at her promotion to General and the second, when the Chief of Staff came their station in Afghanistan.
Her thoughts drifted off to the war, even though her posting was transient, she felt just as frustrated as the rest of them, fighting a pointless war, losing good men and women to a vague cause. She had lifted their morale though and she admired her even more fiercely than she already did. Her platoon had been withdrawn for a month now and it was a less grimy environment. There was significantly less noise, less dust and absolutely no gunshots in the Defence Intelligence Agency.
Now she had this assignment, which had to be the most lucrative she'd ever had; and working with a legend of her time even in such a menial capacity, things could hardly be better. She waited patiently in the CSO's office on the day of her official resumption barely perceiving the span of time that had elapsed since her 8am arrival. Just a couple of minutes before noon, the CSO received a call and on acknowledgement he showed Newton in.
Newton was apprehended by the sheer grandeur of her office. She had taken it all in one furtive glance while saluting.
"Sally Newton, reporting for duty, ma'am."
"Madam." De-Billiard corrected without looking up at her.
"Madam." Newton cursed herself. First five seconds and I'm already in danger of being dismissed.
"Come closer."
"Yes, sir - I mean madam." Newton felt like strangling herself. Sir!? She couldn't blame that on habit.
"Your supervisor highly and so ardently recommends you. My fondness of him gave you an edge. You have him to thank for that."
"Yes, madam."
"Have you any idea what this assignment entails?"
"Yes, madam."
"Well...?" de-Billiard led her on.
"I am to carry out what ever duties I am assigned by the chief with promptness maximum efficiency, madam."
"Don't make it sound so grueling, Newton. But yes, you are right. And if you falter or err, you will be immediately dismissed."
De-Billiard had turned the heat up a bit, studying the tenseness in her countenance.
"I see you understand."
"Yes, madam."
She went back to the papers on her desk.
"Do you have something to say?"
That question completely threw her off guard. It was almost as if...
"You'd better say it now because henceforth all you will say to me is 'yes madam'"
Newton started to speak but caught herself. She still reeled from the shock and had difficulty forming her words.
"Perhaps you have nothing to say. I must have read you wrong..."
"Yes, madam. I-I have something to say."
De-Billiard ignored the fact that her orderly had just interrupted her, thinking the situation too interesting to make a meal of.
"I have deeply admired you for a long time now. Your biography is like a Bible to me."
"You know all my quotes?"
"Yes, madam. I have always seen you as a role model, and this job is a dream come true. I had frequently thought of leaving the Armed Forces but when I knew of your feats and the rates with which you went up the ranks, it inspired me. I want to be at least half the legend you are... madam."
De-Billiard had watched the young Corporal pour her heart out. It was almost touching.
"Don't settle for half. Try to surpass the legend you set out to be."
"Yes, madam."
"Well, that's out of the way. Get me a cup of coffee and have the CSO call the Deputy Director of Operations. And, Newton..."
"Yes, madam."
"The next time you call me 'sir', I'll have you stationed in Somalia."
Yes, madam. Newton stopped herself from smiling.
Newton returned with the coffee a couple of minutes later. Setting it down at her desk, she added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred. De-Billiard watched her curiously.
"You left the door open."
"I'm sorry, madam." Newton rushed to the door.
"Lock it."
"Yes, madam."
She took a sip of her coffee and set it aside.
"Excellent job with the coffee."
"Thank you, madam."
"Stand there." De-Billiard indicated a spot a few feet from her desk
"Yes, madam."
"Take off your boots."
"Yes, madam."
De-Billiard kept watching with that curious look on her face as she straightened back up. Newton wondered why she had her do all these things. Perhaps she hadn't gotten used to the "thrill" of having someone to order around out of pleasure and not necessity. Whatever, she thought.
"Strip."
"Yes, madam." She started to take off her shirt when the meaning of the command hit her. Only then did she show hesitation.
"Turn around. And dance while you do it."
"Yes, madam." Newton said, her voice laden with trepidation and embarrassment.
De-Billiard watched her strip, although she would have loved to see her expression of embarrassment, she knew that it would be marred by her perplexity. The faint notion of having an audience conflicted directly with her senses. She could feel de-Billiard's eyes on her, judging her as she took off her clothes in an embarrassing dance she had to make up. She tried to get used to it, although she felt silly with her boots on. That was probably the point. It gave her confidence though that she didn't watch de-Billiard watch her. Perhaps, that was what she was going for. She knew she was considerate enough.
"Put on your boots."
"Yes madam."
De-Billiard savored the view as Newton's cheeks parted slightly revealing her tasty orifices. Newton on the other hand was still trying to battle the reality she faced. Her role model, treating her like a slave for petty amusement. She calmly braced herself as she knew things could get much worse.
"In my first year in the forces, when we were stationed in Buda, my ambush squad was stationed in foxholes outside the base. After waiting for a couple of hours, I started to get uncomfortable. I put my gun aside and started touching myself..."
Newton could barely react as de-Billiard's words entered her head. Having read de-Billiard's book, she knew she had quite the way with words. She could almost feel the sensations de-Billiard so keenly described.
As de-Billiard spoke, she noticed Newton shift slightly in her stance; glad that her words were having an effect. But then, she had been standing for quite a while now.
"...then I locked my side-arm and slid it up in me. I thrashed around, trying to endure the sensation of the cold metal sliding in and out of me. I could barely keep to myself. My body tightened and I wanted to scream..."