Were In The Army Now Ch 01

All through high school my cousin had insisted that she was going to go to officer training school and make a professional career in the military. Our dads had been in the regular army and we had been brought up a pair of army brats. Kristy-Anne had always preferred playing war games, donning fatigues and scaling assault courses to ‘girly’ pursuits like checking out boys or spending hours playing with makeup.

When we were about 14, we were separated as my dad was discharged and moved into a new career in anew town. Then Kristy-Anne and her family were posted overseas.

I drifted around after high school, not really knowing what I wanted to do with my life. I had a few short-lived relationships with boys, and then men, none of whom satisfied me emotionally and all of whom I was eventually cold with physically. By the time I was just 19, I had hit the hippie trail, spent time wandering through India, and then ended up on the streets back home, with a drug habit – I took uppers to get through the nights of selling my body, downers to sleep during the day and forget. I hated it but was spiralling out of control. Things went on like this for another two years, by which time I was pulling tricks, and under the direction of a pimp, rolling customers. Fortunately I never succumbed to cocaine or heroin. I was too scared of the consequences for that.

The first and only time I tried to hold up a pharmacist for cash and drugs I was caught. I was dragged before the courts. The judge gave me a suspended sentence and lectured me about getting my life in order. This was the kick up the arse I needed. First stop was a rehab centre, where I realised my drug use was dragging me down.

Mum and Dad took me back in. I guess I was the prodigal daughter. But nothing really interested me long-term. What was WRONG with me, I kept asking myself.

Then Dad made a suggestion which I had never expected. Why didn’t I consider an army career? He could pull a few strings and make sure my past would not be examined too closely.

Whoooooooooooooooooah! From druggie whore turning tricks to army recruit? Bizarre! But Dad had planted a seed. At least I could get a degree, or learn something useful. So, here I was, standing in the Army Recruiting Office, signing on the dotted line. My dad’s distinguished career held me in good stead, and within a week I was off to boot camp. A women-only boot camp! After recent scandals involving sexual harassment and assault of female recruits, the force was trying an experiment in training women with women, by women, with a view to forming a special elite women-only corps. At least that would keep me out of distraction’s way – no way of returning to my sordid ways – I had thought when I volunteered to join the experiment.

As the bus pulled up at the barracks, I was greeted by the sight of six women in uniform standing to attention by the bus door. As we emerged, they appraised us, scrutinising every aspect of us. I was wearing the last of my floaty Indian dresses, sandals, and my long braid of sandy hair hung down to my arse.

Immediately, we were marched into a wooden barracks room, where we were met by a middle-aged, very chunky woman, told to strip and remove any jewellery. We were issued with sensible, waist high white panties, told to raised our arms, a tape measure run around our breasts, and a utility bra (more like a harness) thrown at us. We then lined up and were issued a kakhi shirt and trousers and socks. Last of all, we had our feet measured, and a pair of brand new, stiff leather boots fitted.

None of us talked to each other. One fragile, rather petite looking girl had silent tears rolling down her cheeks. “Stop snivelling, recruit!” the army woman barked at her. “Are you, or are you not here voluntarily?” A tiny whimper in reply seemed to say “n-n-n-n-n-no”. “Rubbish, recruit!” came the reply. “This army has no conscripts. If you are here, it is because you want to be. There is no alternative!”

The girl was so startled she did stop weeping, but she withdrew even further into herself.

“Ok, recruits. Sit on that bench. You will be called individually for the next stage of induction.”

We sat. We waited. Eventually, a tall, serious looking woman came and called a name. “Follow me!” she ordered. The girl who had been crying stood, and took a few tentative steps forward. “Look smart, Recruit Smith”. Forward, march!

With that, a door was opened which led into another room, and then closed behind them as Smith and the officer left. I heard a strange humming noise, a scream, and then silence. Smith didn’t come back, but the Officer did, and my name was called.

I was fairly familiar with army protocols, so I tried to look like I knew what I was doing. I walked forward into the next room, where I was prodded into a large straight-backed chair. An electric implement like a dentist’s drill hung from the ceiling overhead, but I soon realised it wasn’t. I felt myself take a sharp intake of breath. An unseen pair of hands from behind grabbed my braid and within a few seconds I heard a heavy schnik as it was severed from my head. It was thrown on the floor beside me. I noticed then for the first time that there were mirrors on the walls all around me, and I could see the jagged and rough end of my hair above my collar! It hadn’t been this short since I was a very small child! I gasped.

Then the woman behind grabbed the electric clippers and turned them on. I guess I hadn’t even thought about this when I had joined up. Like most of my body, I just took it for granted that my long hair was there, a part of me. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to snivel about its loss. I would just take what came.

What came was totally unexpected! The barber tilted my head forward and ran the clippers up my neck. And I felt a jolt of electrical excitement zoom straight to my cunt! My nipples stood erect, and I felt moisture pooling in my underpants! For fuck’s sake, I thought, I’m getting turned on by an army haircut!

The barber was an artist! No rough and uneven clippering here. She took her time, and lovingly guided the shears up the back of my neck, before taking a comb and executing a perfect horseshoe shaped crew cut! When she was satisfied with the shape, she took a straight razor and sharpened it on a leather strop. She lathered my neck and around my ears and shaved me bare so that a white line appeared at my neckline and ears. (Later I learned it’s called ‘white-walling’) The back of my head was shorn at a 0 setting, just the barest hint of blonde stubble remained. It was almost imperceptible, but as she ran her hands over it, I squirmed in my seat.

“You have to maintain your hair at a length no longer than a #1 back and sides and #2 on top throughout basic training” I was informed. “You will report here at 0800 hours every Saturday for barbering.” My pussy already looked forward to it. I hadn’t felt this sexually aroused since…well, since a time I had long put out of my mind. A silly thing, when I had accidentally brushed against the prom queen’s breasts on the dance floor on graduation night. “Many of our recruits like to come more frequently. Dismissed.” I knew I was going to be back in that room as often as I could be.

I was accompanied out another door at then other end of the hut. Smith was sitting bolt upright on a concrete stoop where she had been told to wait. She too was now completely shorn, although her dark hair looked like a 5 o’clock shadow all over. She was staring straight ahead. “Ooh, you’re beautiful braid,” she exclaimed. “Did they have to punish you too?”

“Punish?” I asked, not catching her drift.

“Yes, I resisted, and was punished. They pulled down my trousers and paddled my bare arse until I submitted”. She started to snivel again, and then pulled herself up. She whispered “But they said it will get worse if I cry again.” This seemed to stiffen her resolve. While she stared into space, I couldn’t help wondering what her stinging arse had looked like, and what kind of paddle they had used.

Eventually the other recruits joined us, each of us now outfitted in khaki, with shaven, heads. Despite the regulation clippering, all our cuts looked different. That barber really knew what she was doing. I mused to myself how one became an army barber!

Just as I was entering a reverie, another Officer came and took us to our sleeping quarters. We were to be accommodated in a modern concrete block, usually three recruits to a room. I ended up with Smith, but the third bed was empty. Apparently the intake was less than expected, and we were afforded some extra space.

In the room there were three narrow beds, a metal locker beside each, and a bookshelf above each bed. There was a cold-water basin in the corner, a mirror above it. A bathroom was located between every two rooms. It consisted of a toilet and shower, with a plastic shower curtain on one side of the shower – affording some protection from water to the toilet. The floor sloped towards a drain hole in the middle of the shower. There were no doors, just open doorways.

This room was to be our “private space” for the next 8 weeks! The only decoration was a poster of three women army recruits, smiling enigmatically. All sported the same trousers and haircuts as us. But on top, they wore nothing! Bare breasts with erect nipples were proudly on display. One of the women was leaning over and tweaking the nipples of the woman next to her while looking directly at the camera! The other had her hand thrust down the front of her trousers, inside her white knickers, her fly open. All of them wore bright red lipstick and eyes heavily made up with kohl and mascara.

Smith hadn’t seemed to notice the poster yet. I was intrigued, and wondered what in hell it was doing here! It looked like some sort of soft-core porn of the kind some of my johns had needed to get stiff. What in hell would it be doing in a women’s barracks?

After unpacking our meagre belongings, toothbrush, book, hairbrush (ha)! That went to the back of the drawer!), we regrouped and reported to the mess hall for our first briefing from the Commanding Officer.

And there, on the stage, was a beautiful, tall woman, wearing a tailored uniform of superb cut and fabric. Her hair was cut into a perfect high ‘n’ tight. And despite her name badge revealing only her rank and surname, I knew her as Kristy-Anne!

Her eyes met mine almost immediately. A tiny trace of a smile danced across her face, but then she turned to her second in command and the lights were dimmed. “We are going to see a motivational film” Kristy-Anne announced. “We are going to turn you raw recruits into an elite corps of women, with special bonds between us that will prove the internal strength of our outfit.”

The tape started whirring. The opening scene was of a naked woman sitting on the lap of a woman clad in leather. Leather, thigh high boots, leather gloves, a leather jerkin, open, exposing her nipple-ringed tits, leather chaps, with a large cutout area exposing her pubic area. A huge cock protruded through the opening. The naked girl rubbed herself up and down the leather clad leg of the becocked one, her long black hair a contrast to the gelled short back and sides of the one in leather.

Recruits were expressing shock, gasping, gulping, turning to each other in bemusement. “WHAT is going on?” one asked. I sat transfixed, wondering if the naked woman was going to ride the cock any time soon! She was flicking the nipple rings, now leaning forward and taking one hard, engorged nipple in her mouth. The camera came in close and I watched as she made love to that tit, and then the other. I could imagine the nipple distended down the back of her mouth. All of a sudden, she mounted the dildo, and rose up and down along its shaft, fucking it, her head thrown back, her hands kneading her own tits now. She was about to cum, when . . .

. . . the lights went up.

Kristy-Anne had stripped and was walking around in her officer boots with a whip. “Here, we call for total, I said, TOTAL obedience.” She flicked the whip. “Recruit” – she pointed the whip at Smith, who had covered her eyes with her hands, “Did you hear me? STAND.”

Smith scabbled to her feet.

“Bend over”.

Smith bent at the waist. Kristy-Anne raised her eyebrows at her 2-I-C, who pulled Smith’s pants down to her knees. C-R-A-C-K. Kirsty-Anne’s whip landed on Smith’s arse. And again. Red welts rose.

“TOTAL obedience.”

“Tonight you will return to your rooms and fuck. My officers and I will be in the corridors to inspect and appraise you. Tomorrow at 2000 hours you will report here to the Mess and give an account of your sexploits. Dis-missed.”

Kirsty-Anne turned on her heel and then strode over to me. “Recruit, follow me!”

I followed my cousin into a room off to the side of the Mess hall. It was decorated in red velvet, from wallpaper, to drapes and banquettes. Mirrors covered the ceiling. It was the bordello I had never seen when I was a street hooker!

“Well, look who’s here”, Kirsty-Anne smiled a genuine smile of welcome. “Come to ‘straighten’ yourself out, so I am told!”

I leaned forward to kiss Kirsty-Anne. We had been as close as sisters when we were children, and I was thrilled to see her again. Kirsty-Anne opened her arms and enfolded me. “I am sooo looking forward to having you in my unit. Your experience should come in handy.”

“Huh?” I raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Your whoring. It’s great background for my project here. You have fucked plenty of men, but you never enjoyed it, did you?”

“Errr, no” I agreed.

“Well, we need someone with the imagination and morals of a whore to get recruits like Smith in line. That is why you have been billeted with her. I want that bitch acting like a slut before her next appointment with the barber!”

I laughed at Kirsty-Anne’s audacity.

“It’s no laughing matter”. She was serious. “That girl will be begging for a gang-bang by next Saturday once you take her in hand! Now, you had better get started – off to barracks and see what you can do. I bet you were an imaginative whore. Bring your expertise to this new challenge and you will soon be officer material!”

What a task I had ahead of me. I was beginning to think I was going to love army life!

I returned to the barracks room shared with Smith. I found her sitting, curled up in the corner on one of the narrow beds, whimpering. I decided to go softly with her. I sat on the opposite corner of the bed. “Well, what a surprising day!” I observed, keeping my voice as casual as possible.

Smith stopped crying long enough to nod. “I – I – I thought army life was tough, but I never expected th – th- this. What’s happening?”

“Well, I think any army has to rely on the absolute devotion of one soldier to another. We are being encouraged to bond in the most fundamental way possible.”

“H – h – have you ever done any of these – these – these debauched th – th- things?” she whispered.

“No”, I said, “I have never fucked a woman before”. Smith visibly recoiled as I said the word “fuck”. “But”, I added, "I have had many cocks inside me, and given head so often I wouldn’t like to think how many times I have had boy-spooff down my throat.”

“Oooooooooohh” Smith’s mouth dropped wide open. “I have never, l-l-l-l-lain with ANYONE” she stammered. “I was schooled at home and my parents never let me out alone with a b-b-b-boy!”

“So what are you doing in the army?” I queried.

“Oh, my parents were both killed and I thought this woman only unit would help me become a little independent and learn to look after myself.”

“So, we will be learning together!” I flashed my most reassuring smile, while letting my eyes travel down her body. From looking into her eyes, I dropped my gaze to her breasts. They didn’t make much dent in the army-issue shirt, so I guess they were very small. Her waist was small, but her hips fuller, and her arse filled out the trousers nicely. I moved closer to her and took her hands between mine. Soft, with long and slender fingers.

From the room next door came a banging against the wall and deep moans. Wow, Parkins and Davis had wasted no time. Then, they looked like dykes from the start. Army bull-dykes in the making those two! They only lost about a millimetre of hair between them to the barber!

I pulled Smith up off the bed, and placing my arm around her shoulder guided her to the doorway, then steered her to the doorway next door to get a look at the banging going on.

Parkins was on the bed, her arse facing the door, on all fours. Her huge tits swung heavily under her. She appeared to have some sort of leather straps or reins attached to them through some sort of clamps, the straps then attached to the metal rails at the side of the bed. Every time she moved, the reins pulled on her nipples and distended them. Davis was wearing a harness with a big black cock sticking out. Her arse cheeks were solid muscle – taut and rippling. She was ramming the dildo into Parkins’ arse, pulling it out again and whamming it in again. This made the bed bang against the wall, which is what we had heard. Parkins was sending out loud, throaty, animal like grunts and moans.

Smith recoiled at the sight and swooned with shock. I caught her into my arms as she fainted. I couldn’t take my eyes off Parkins and Davis. I had never even thought two great bulldyke Butches would fuck each other. I had been brought up to believe Butches only fucked femmes, though I did know a couple of lesbian couples where both wore dresses and lipstick; Marie and Carly had once told me they called themselves “lipstick dykes” and were both considered “femme”.

Davis looked over her shoulder and barked at me “Get the bitch over here and on the bed under Parkins!”

I complied without question. I dragged Smith, who was starting to come round. Davis stopped fucking, and Parkins momentarily got off the bed. She lifted Smith in her great arms and lay her on the bed and ripped her shirt open and pushed her bra up around her neck, to expose the most delectable tits! Who could have guessed from the cover of the army issue shirt! Parkins then resumed her position, her cunt now directly over Smith’s face. As Smith came round and focussed, she took in the view, and realised she was staring directly at a dyke’s gash. Davis had resumed her dildo banging, and Parkins was rocking back and forth, her nipples stretching with each movement.

I had never been so excited in all my sexual life! I wasn’t quite sure what to Do, well, where to start. “Getcha gear off” directed Davis. “Can’t fuck with ya clothes on!” Well, I thought, you could, actually, but that would need a bit more finesse than these big dykes would want to worry about! So I tore my clothes off and stood close by the bed, wondering what to do!

“Over behind me!” Davis snapped. “Give my arse a good licking!”

Well, this was something I had done before, if not with a woman, so I stepped up to the challenge. I knelt on the floor behind Davis, and gingerly pushed the “g-string” of the harness to one side. I parted her taut buttocks, and dove my head into the crack. It smelt so different to a man! The juices she was emitting had a very different, salty, slightly fishy smell. It took a moment to get used to, but I inhaled deeply, and decided that I liked it. I stiffened my tongue and ran it around her puckered hole, then started to probe with the tip. “Mmmmmmmmm” I was liking this! I used my fingers to work her hole some more, and then plunged my tongue in as far as it would go.

I became aware of a whimpering from the bed, and then a need to rearrange myself lower down. Davis had lowered herself in response to the fact that, on the bed, Parkins had forced her cunt over Smith’s mouth, and was rubbing her slit back and forward across her face. Smith was trying to use her hands to push Parkins off her, but had merely succeeded in grasping her by her clamped tits, which was exciting her even more.