MAJOR SLUT
by conwic@aol.com
Hearing those news reports on TV about that Army sex scandal at Aberdeen brings
back memories for me, memories of the best sex I ever had -courtesy of the U.S.
Army. I mean, how many men in this day and age can truthfully say that they have
owned a woman against her will. Not just any woman, but his boss- in my case, a
female officer. And not just used her himself, but forced her to display herself
in front of and even give herself to a dozen other men, all of whom she hated.
You've never heard about this; the Army was pretty good about covering the whole
thing up. But it is worth remembering, even if only here. It was back in 1993,
in Korea. I was in the 8th Army's signal brigade then. I'd joined to be an
infantryman and was a good one; but after my own fucking track ran over my left
foot on the last day of the Gulf War, I was profiled out of the Infantry and
into the Signal Corp. I was a staff sergeant by then so I tried to stick it out
to get my twenty, but I just couldn't take all the technical crap seriously. Nor
could I take the REMF-weenies I had to work for and with seriously. After you've
been in combat- after you've killed a man in battle, it's awfully hard to fit in
with a bunch of glorified TV repairman.
Not surprisingly, I didn't do well in my new field. I could see the end of my
military career fast approaching. Finally, they stuck me in the brigade's
version of Siberia, an old communications relay station off the southern coast
of Korea. It was just a little compound with a half dozen Quonset huts left over
from the Korean War surrounded by a high fence. Above the huts on the top of a
hill were the antennas. Despite the small size of the compound, the Army had
taken possession of half the land on the island, leaving the local population
barely enough land to squat on. The station had once been the link between Korea
and Okinawa. Then satellites came in, and the place was no longer necessary.
They kept it in case the satellite was shot down or more likely just out of
habit. Anyway, since it did nothing other than the occasional test message there
was very little to screw up. So it became the dumping ground for the misfits of
the brigade. I was the NCO in charge working under an alcoholic Captain I ran
the place even though I didn't know shit about the technical side of it.
Luckily, there wasn't a whole lot to do. I had eleven enlisted men, 10 signal
types and a medic. They were all assholes or fuck-ups, which is why they were
there. Most thought that they were badasses, but their previous bosses just
hadn't understood how to handle them. I did. The first day I was there I found
the biggest one of them, the toughest guy in the unit, and beat the shit out of
him. It wasn't hard; these signal types tend to be weenies. Most had never been
in a real fight in their lives. Growing up hardscrabble in Oklahoma, I've been
in plenty. I learned that it didn't matter so much how big you were, just how
willing you were to take the pain of being hit. I didn't mind getting hit a few
times if that meant I could get my licks in. That's what I had on these guys.
They were afraid of being hurt; I wasn't. This asshole had fifty pounds on me.
But when I kept coming after he hit me a few times, he folded, just curled up
and cried as I pounded him. I didn't have any trouble with the men after that.
I had ten Koreans working there too. They were the guards who manned the gate,
the cooks, and the houseboys who did all the cleaning while the GI's lived like
pigs. The head Korean was a fellow named Kim. He like all the others was from
the island. They were a clannish bunch, like the hillbillies back in the States,
where everybody marries their cousins, and they don't trust anyone who wasn't
born there. I knew enough to stay on his good side and let him run things with
the other Koreans. After a couple of months, Kim started sucking up to me,
buying me drinks and fixing me up with freebies with the waitress at our little
club- Miss Rhee- who did a little whoring on the side. I knew that he had a
reason for this, and that it probably involved something illegal. At least I
hoped it did; I would need some money for a new start when they turned me out of
the Army. But I played it dumb until he worked up the nerve to make me an offer.
Like the moonshiners in the States, the islanders were short of land; they had
to find a more profitable crop than the turnips and rice the farmers grew on the
mainland. So, they grew a little opium which they sold to the Korean version of
the Mafia in Seoul. Seems it was quite stylish for the Korean Yuppies to smoke
the stuff. I believed him about the stuff going to Koreans; I'd never heard of
soldiers buying opium from Koreans. I like to think that I would have stopped
him then if the customers had been GI's, but I doubt it. What he needed from me
was simple enough. I'd look the other way- and make sure everybody else did the
same- while Kim's family grew the poppies on some of the land belonging to the
Army, land which was off limits to the Korean police. I'd also help him
transport the raw opium by using the site's supply truck to deliver the stuff to
the mainland on its 3 times a week supply run, allowing him to get it to his
buyers even though the Korean police were watching everybody and everything
which used the ferry to the mainland. In return he would pay me $1000 per 5 kilo
sack delivered. We bickered a while. I settled for $1200 per sack. Suddenly, my
post Army prospects didn't look so bad.
Things went beautifully for six months. By then, I had $66,000 in a bank in the
Bahamas. I was happy, and I kept everyone else happy. I was paying Miss Rhee to
keep the troops happy. A little free sex from her and a relaxed schedule- no
formations, no PT, no shit details- kept their noses out of my business. The
Captain was even easier. I just kept him supplied with booze. Only I was a
little too generous. He drank himself to death before I had the $100,000 that
was my goal. Still, I figured that his replacement would be just as fucked up as
he was.
I was wrong. I learned later that his replacement, Major Amanda Thompson, was
not exiled there as punishment because she fucked up but because she wouldn't
sleep with the Brigade Commander. Just my luck. I'd never had a female commander
and didn't much like the idea. It didn't seem right to me. You see, most of my
experience with women has been with the whores around Army bases; that's what I
thought of when someone said "woman"- a life support system for a pussy. Major
Thompson was definitely different from the women I was familiar with.
She was tall for a woman, almost six feet. Hard to tell how old she was by
looking at her; she was in great shape physically. Initially I guessed she was
about 28 or 29, awfully young for a Major. Later I found she was 36. She looked
to be built, even wearing those baggy BDU's. Her face fascinated me. With her
short, reddish brown hair and lack of make up, she should have looked mannish.
But she didn't; she looked both strong and feminine. Maybe it was those
cheekbones or her full lips. Whatever the reason, I thought she was the best
looking woman I ever saw. I wanted her. The fact that she was an officer helped
too. That and the fact that I knew that she didn't want me- didn't want any man
so far as I could tell- made her all the more desirable. She was unattainable.
She was a challenge.
She was also a problem. Unfortunately, she knew what she was doing. She
restarted formations and PT immediately, much to the horror of the men. I kept
in pretty good upper body shape, and I didn't have to run with her because of
the profile on my foot. Still, I had a hard time matching her. She smoked the
rest of the men, totally humiliated them, during PT. And she seemed to enjoy
doing it. She knew the job technically and soon knew that I didn't. Things were
looking bad. She was bound to find out about the opium eventually. Hell, it only
took her a week to figure out about Miss Rhee's part time work and ban her from
the compound. Which, since she had restricted everyone to the compound until we
met her standards, meant nobody was getting any sex. Including me! Major
Thompson became an obsession with me. Since I couldn't have her, I had to have
her. Finally, I decided that I had nothing to lose. Kim wasn't about to let me
out of our deal- alive. If I did nothing, I was bound to end up in Leavenworth
anyway. I might as well take her down; it was my only chance to get out of this
clean. I had nothing to lose and a great deal- her- to gain.
By the end of her second week Major Thompson had every man in the unit cursing
her, calling her the "Major Bitch", and just generally hating her guts. I knew
then that most would jump at the chance to pay her back for the way she had
taken away their comfortable life style. The few who were afraid of what that
entailed, were too afraid of me to be willing to do anything to save her. It was
a simple matter to have my partner Kim persuade the Korean cook to lace her
meals with a gradually increasing chunk of raw opium from our stock. With the
red peppers that the Koreans put in everything, she never knew anything was
wrong with the food. I would watch the Major eat it everyday, thinking of what
was in store for her. The thought never failed to give me an incredible hard on!
The drugs seemed to have little or no effect for the first two days. Except for
nodding off at her desk a few times, she didn't show any signs of the drug that
I could see. By the third day I was wondering if the potency of the drug had
been weakened by the heat of the food. I needn't have worried. That day she
began to show the drugs effects. Now she alternated between catatonia and mania,
dozing off for hours and then off handedly issuing a flood of orders which made
no sense. The men around her began to get use to ignoring her orders. On the
fifth day she reached the point of no return. She passed out in the club after
eating her doctored lunch, right in front of about half the detachment. No one
made a move to help her. I knew then that I had her.
I left her there until the room cleared as everyone else returned to their jobs.
Then I got her up, which was no easy task since she was almost as tall as I am
and weighed at least 150 pounds. It was all prime woman though, she didn't have
a trace of flab on her body. I carried her to her room, which was in the Quonset
hut furthest from the club. I staggered into the room cursing my crippled foot
every inch of the way and dumped her on her bed.. As she lay on her back, I
checked her breathing. It was strong and regular. She didn't stir when I shook
her; Major Thompson was oblivious to the world. I unbuttoned her fatigue jacket
and then her pants, struggling a little with her dead weight. I stripped those
off her, leaving her in her Army green T shirt and some skimpy white panties.
Without the uniform, she was starting to look very feminine to me. In a second,
I had her T shirt and her bra off, revealing a pair of perfect breasts- soft,
solid globes even with her on her back- topped by the largest nipples I've ever
seen. Even asleep, they were the size of my little finger. I reached over to
them and rolled the warm flesh between my fingers. It hardened slightly. I bent
over and put my mouth to her left nipple, opening my mouth and sucking the nub.
I began to use my teeth on it. Then it really got hard, and big. I savored her
taste for a moment- clean, warm, and a little salty on my tongue- before I let
her breast go and started to strip off her panties. The Major - I still thought
of her as the Major- had a trimmed bush of auburn hair, cut as short as the hair
on her head and shaven around the sides into a bikini cut. Judging by the tan
line, she liked to wear a very small bikini. She must have been quite a tease
around the officers' club pool back in Seoul, before she was exiled to this
dump. I spread her legs to find that she also shaved her cunt lips, leaving them
bare and slightly reddish. The inner lips of her cunt protruded slightly, giving
her cunt that well used look I like in my women. The prospects were looking
better every minute. She may have been a ball breaking bitch, but she had a body
built like the proverbial brick shit house.
Once she was nude, I ran my hands over her. Her still lightly tanned skin felt
warm and the muscles firm and resilient under the pressure of my hands. I
moved my hands to her breasts and then down her flat stomach to her cunt. I ran
my hands all over her body, feeling the first thrill of ownership as she lay
there, oblivious to my touch. It was like Christmas morning, when you just had
to touch your new toys to make sure they were really there. I had to try out my
new toy. I would have liked her to be awake the first time I fucked her. I
wanted to hear her beg and cry and scream. But I knew that there would be plenty
of time for that later.
I stripped, keeping my eyes on her every minute. I was as hard as I have ever
been. In a moment I had her legs bent back to her breasts and was inside her.
She was dry and hot; the first strokes were almost painful for me because she
was so dry. But I didn't care. She lay under me as I fucked her, making those
groaning sounds a person makes when they're having a nightmare, just before they
wake up. But Major Thompson didn't wake up. The pain of the friction went away
after a few strokes. In a moment, I was plowing into her, making her breasts
shake with my thrusts. I was shouting into her face as it stared up at me, eyes
closed and expressionless. I called her a whore, a bitch, a cunt. I called her a
lot of things, none of them the sort of thing a sergeant would normally say to
an officer. I guess I lasted about 4 or 5 minutes, what with the initial pain
and the way she just lay there. I left her cunt dripping my cum and went back to
the matters at hand.
I had a pair of handcuffs from the unit's stores. I put these on her wrists and
then used a chain to secure them to the metal frame at the head of the bed. I
tied her feet to the opposite sides of the frame at the foot of the bed, leaving
her cunt exposed. The way the bed was positioned, she was looking into the
mirror over the battered dresser that was, other than the table and chair, all
the room's furniture. When she woke up, her cunt would be the first thing she
saw. I took the toilet brush from the small bathroom built into the back corner
of the room and shoved it- handle end first- into her cum draped cunt. Then I
watched her for a while. Finally, I took her panties- the ones she had worn all
day- and waded them up. I put them in her mouth and tied them in there with one
of her bootlaces, wrapping it around her head two or three times. When I left, I
didn't turn off the light. I wanted her to see herself in the mirror when she
came to- nude, bound, and with a toilette brush sticking out of her cunt.
Once she was my captive, I put things back to what they had been before the
Major arrived. I stopped the formations and the PT. I even brought Miss Rhee
back to the club and paid her to give every man a free fuck. This kept them too
occupied with her to ask questions about the Major. Kim was a little harder to
satisfy. I had to agree to drop my price for a sack by $300 before he was
willing to keep me supplied with the raw opium I needed.
About every 6-7 hours, I would check on my captive. Amanda- after fucking her I
felt on more familiar terms, too familiar for the use of rank anymore- was
pretty groggy since I was giving her another ball of raw opium before the
effects of the previous dose had disappeared. I didn't say anything to her. I
just shoved another one up her asshole like a suppository. At first, she kept
trying to ask me what was happening. Or maybe why I was doing this to her. Hard
to understand a woman who has her panties in her mouth. By the next morning,
Amanda, bright bitch that she was even with the drugs in her, had begun to
realized what I was doing. Now she was trying to curse me through that gag and
no doubt threatened me with a court-martial among other things. I just smiled
and unbuttoned my BDU pants. The expression of surprise on top of anger on
Amanda's face was priceless when I started pissing on her! I hosed her down
thoroughly as she sputtered and shrieked under that stream of hot, yellow piss.
When I had finished, she was quiet.
After another dose of the raw opium, she drifted into a kind of trance. She
didn't know what was going on around her. Amanda even stopped trying to talk,
though I sort of missed her muffled pleas and threats. I took out her gag then.
It was really soaked but not surprisingly a lot cleaner than when I put in her
mouth. I suppose she had sucked the shit stains- her shit stains- right off
those panties. By now she was pretty compliant. I didn't have to shove the opium
balls up her ass any more; she would swallow them once I put them in her mouth.
The opium and a lot of water was all I gave her for the next two days. During
all this time, she had to lay there in a bed soaked with her own- and my- piss,
staring at her naked, bound form in the mirror. Fortunately for Amanda, opium is
constipating. Otherwise the experience would have been even worse. As it was, I
thought it good for her sense of humility to wallow in her own wastes. I didn't
fuck her when she was like this because she stunk, but I did have some other
forms of amusement. Judging by what Kim had told me about how the opium smokers
acted, I figured that by then she was pretty far along on becoming hooked,
physically addicted. She sure looked like an addict with her sunken eyes and
vacant expression. I wanted to keep her right on the knife's edge of addiction
without letting her go over the edge into oblivion. I wanted her to know what I
was doing to her, to feel the humiliation. I also wanted her to crave the drug,
to need it more than anything else, more especially than her pride. I began
varying the times and amounts I gave her, actually reducing the dose. I'd let
her go cold turkey for awhile before I gave her another fix so that she stayed
confused and shaky, but aware of what was happening to her. As soon as I'd come
in the room, I could see her staring at me, looking for the drugs. I could see
the hunger in her eyes, eyes which were no longer so dull but burned with anger.
I'd make her ask, beg really, for the opium before I'd give it to her. That was
to teach her who was in charge now. I had the upper hand here, and she was going
to acknowledge it. .Besides, I liked watching her crawl. I liked hearing her beg
for her drugs- though she didn't even know what it was she was asking for. She'd
just begged for "it", " Give it to me, pleaseeee! I need it!" I loved to hear
her beg! And she gave me what I wanted- eventually. That must have been hard for
her, proud as she was. It was great, almost sexual. Then I demanded more. I told
her that she must beg me to let her suck my cock before I would give her the
opium. That got a rise out of her. She refused, of course, and called me a
"dirty, cock sucking son-of a-bitch pervert", I think it was.. I just sat there
on the bed, toying with the little ball of opium, ignoring her. She fought it
for a long time, her eyes fixed on that ball of opium every second. I could see
her mind working, frantically trying to figure out some way to get the opium
without submitting to me. She knew there was no way, but for a while her pride
wouldn't let her give in to me even when she began to shake and sweat.
Eventually of course, she gave in rather than deny herself the drug she craved
more than life itself. Finally she said, "All right, I'll suck your cock." I
told her that was not what I wanted; I told her that she must beg to be allowed
to suck my cock." She couldn't choked out the words. She needed more motivation.
I've had that problem with other women. So, I decided to speed things up a
little, give her a little more motivation. It's surprising how many everyday
items can be used to inflict pain. I thought that she might need a little
persuasion, so I had brought with me some of the crushed red peppers the Koreans
use to flavor food, peppers I had the cook mix with oil to make a sticky paste.
Amazing what that stuff can do if you put a big gob of it on a sensitive spot -
like her clitoris. I spread it there and over her cunt lips- using the handle of
a hair brush- and sat back down to watch. She was already sweating, but in about
five minutes the sweat began to pour out of her. She began to move her hips in
little circles, moaning and trying to rub herself against the bed sheets. It
must have felt like she was on fire down there! She cursed me a bit, but I could
see the pain building -along with the craving for the opium. I just watched and
waited. She made one last attempt to avoid the inevitable before choking out a "
Please.... let me.... suck...your cock." between clenched teeth. I was enjoying
this. "Sir", I told her, " you didn't say Sir" "Sir", she begged, " May I suck
your cock,.... please !" I knew what those words must have cost her; they were
no doubt more distasteful to her than the cock sucking she was being forced to
perform. The sight of her face as she said this and the sound of her words were
better than a climax for me. The blow job was merely the desert after that. I
knelt over her face and fed her my erect cock. Amanda opened her mouth and took
the head into her mouth. I could see the tears forming in her eyes as she glared
up at me. She worked her tongue over the head of my cock, swirling it around the
head and then licking the sensitive ridge underneath for a second before going
back to the cock head and starting all over again. Oh, she was an experienced
cock sucker, no doubt about that. And she wanted to get this over with and get
her opium no doubt. I wasn't in such a hurry. I liked the sight of my cock
sticking out of her face, the crude sucking sounds coming out of her mouth, and
the way the tears were running down her cheeks, all while her eyes were shooting
daggers of hate at me. No doubt the thought of making me a gelding went through
her mind at that point, but I figured that she won't have enough left in her to
do it, what with the desire for the drugs and the pain she was feeling from the
red hot peppers still working on her clit. I was right. I raped her mouth, and
she took it.
After a few minutes of her well educated tongue, I took her head in
both hands and began pulling her face back and forth over my cock. Gently at
first, I fucked her face, thrusting progressively harder and deeper into her
mouth as I felt the pressure of the come building in my balls. I forced myself
down her throat, burying her nose in my cock hairs, again and again. I could
hear her gagging and choking, but I didn't care. I rode her face as long and as
hard as I could, loving the choking whimpers coming from her as I raped her
mouth. I held off for as long as I could. When I felt myself coming, I rammed my
cock in further- all the way into her throat- before I started to shoot. I held
it there so she had to swallow my juices or choke. I could actually feel her
throat constricting around my cock, squeezing the come out of it. When I knew
she had swallowed most of the load of come, I pulled out. Then, I wiped my cock
on her face, smearing the cock head over her face, letting bits and spurts of
come dribble out onto her skin to mix with the tears. I left her with a spider's
web of white come all over her model's face. Then I wiped the burning pepper
paste off her cunt - which was a bright and angry red by then-and gave her the
opium- the climax she craved. I watched her until she was out, dreaming -I
hoped- of cocks raping her. I'd won my first victory over Amanda; the rest would
be easier.
Besides using her mouth that one time, I also kept changing the object I kept in
her cunt as the fancy struck me. One time it would be the handle of the toilet
brush, another time a round bottle of shampoo, and even her brass name plate
from her desk.. The vee shaped solid brass name plate- carefully engraved MAJOR
AMANDA THOMPSON- was my favorite. Eventually I got it to go in all the way up to
the T of THOMPSON though it was quite a struggle the first time I did it. I had
my video camera and took some pictures of her like this. That seemed to set her
off even with the drugs in her. I'd masturbate her with the objects in her cunt
as well. When I did that after a dose had begun to take effect but before she
was in la-la land, I could see her begin to get into it. She would be moving her
hips with the thrusts and moaning a little. Course, I didn't let her cum. I'd
stop just when she began to sweat. Then I'd smear some of the hot pepper paste
on her wet cunt lips and clit - taking care not to get any on my skin-and walk
out the door smiling, leaving her still trying to satisfy herself by humping the
thing in her cunt against the bed. Until the peppers began to burn. Then she
forgot all about sex and started learning about pain.
By now she was getting a little too rank even for me. Particularly after I gave
her some stuff to take care of her constipation and clean her out for what I
planned next. I took the Korean houseboy aside and ask him how he'd like to earn
$50. The houseboy, a dried up old man actually, didn't bat an eye when I told
him about the special cleaning job I wanted done. He knew that I was in tight
with Kim. And even if the GI's were unsure what was going on, I knew that the
Koreans had figured it out. Not that it mattered; as long as Kim was backing me,
they would keep their mouths shut. And after cleaning Americans' dirty boots and
toilets for 30 years, this one was more than willing to have some fun at this
American woman's expense.
I didn't go in with him. I watched from outside the single window, having moved
the shades to the side just enough that I could see in. Amanda was coming down
after the last dose. The sight of the old man coming toward her with his brushes
and pail must have at first seemed like an answer to her prayers, as if her
rescue was at hand. In her relief, she didn't even seem to remember that she was
nude with her name plate sticking out of her cunt. He untied her legs as she
croaked out her thanks to him. But then he retied them to a length of broom
stick. I watched her face fall as her hopes of a rescue disappeared. For a
moment, she could not accept it. Then she screamed a disbelieving "NO" and
started struggling wildly, coming apart entirely. Smiling and nodding to her as
he jabbered in Korean to himself, the old man acted just as if what he were
doing were the most routine thing in the world as he lifted her off the bed and
dropped her on her ass on the cold concrete so he could strip the sodden
bedclothes. When he had done that, he turned his attention to her. Using a rag-
and a stiff brush- he bathed her with cold water from his pail, taking care to
spend the maximum time pawing her body as he did his cleaning. While I had told
him, "no fuckee", I didn't say anything about feeling her up as he worked. The
expression on her tear streaked face was one of total humiliation as she sat
there on the floor, nude and helpless, as someone she had treated as dirt washed
and probed her most private parts. Her anguished look as he pulled the name
plate out of her cunt and pointed to the name and giggled before going back to
cleaning her cunt with the rag was almost enough to make me come right there.
The old man took his time. I was ready to go in and throw him out by the time he
finished scrubbing and pawing Amanda. Then he redid the bed and literally swung
her back onto it like she was a sack of cabbages. I was surprised to see the old
guy climb onto the bed with her and straddle Amanda's nude chest. What he did
next surprised- and pleased- me even more. He pulled his withered cock out of
his baggy pants and began to jack off right into her amazed- and disgusted-
face. It took him some time, and the old man was wheezing like his ticker was
about to give out by the time he was ready to shoot. But shoot he did, covering
her face with his come. It hit her right between the eyes, and ran in a thick
stream down the right side of her nose and onto her cheek, marking her as it
dried on her skin. I knew the humiliation of this must be tearing Amanda apart.
All; in all, it was the best $50 I ever spent.
