Subjugated (17 page)

Amy watching. Paula watching. No one allowed to turn away for fear of punishment.

“Look at that pretty vagina, folks,” boomed forth the announcer’s voice. “Aren’t those labia the cutest thing you ever saw?”

The smile for which Bradley had whipped Jenna had made his blood run cold. For an instant, as he saw her lips twitch, and he realized that it was because she knew she had an ally in the resistance in him, he had thought that despite all his resolve he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from smiling back; his face, because of his growing love for Jenna, would simply smile.

They would be shot, and undoubtedly he would be tortured as well, and his contacts in the resistance found and shot, too.

The surge of anger he felt at Jenna for endangering herself that way saved them both. He let it flow through him and suppress his smile, and he let it carry him to the microphone, and to the table where the cat lay. It let him whip the girl he loved without mercy, as her screams filled the town square.

What now? As long as he refused to look at Jenna, he supposed, and merely looked at the shameful things his men did to her, they would win through. She certainly wouldn’t be able to smile again.

Mrs. Trest had the speculum in Jenna’s anus now. Bradley forced himself to look up at the big screen, where the video feed had a split screen shot of Jenna’s bottom, cruelly opened by the speculum, and Bradley’s own cock, plunging in and out of her bottom-hole, recorded earlier.

“Looks like Jenna’s doing fine back there,” said Joe Franklin. Jenna emitted a cry of discomfort, and Mrs. Trest removed the speculum at last, and dropped it into the waste bin next to the table.

She stepped to the microphone. In her usual bright voice she announced, “I’m happy to certify that Jenna remains quite healthy. Her vagina and anus appear just the way they should in a girl of her age who has recently begun to engage in normal sexual activity, according to the standard of the high command’s
Manual of Traditional Values
. Accordingly, pursuant to section 55f of the manual, I declare Jenna Caprio fit to undergo group degradation. Captain Bradley?”

His feet felt like lead as he moved around Jenna once again, toward the microphone.

“Now Captain Bradley will formally assign Jenna for correction and pleasure to a hand-picked platoon of soldiers from his company. As you can see, the first subjugation team of that platoon are taking off their uniforms right now. In the lead, there, with what I have to say is a very impressive erection, is Captain Bradley’s executive officer, Second Lieutenant John Jacobs. Behind him you’ll see…” Joe paused, undoubtedly referring to the roster Bradley had filed the day before with the high command media office, “…Corporal Hank Redfern and Privates Frielander, Derton, and Wantage.”

Bradley had reached the mic. Mrs. Trest stood aside, smiling. He forced a smile onto his own face, and nodded to her in what he hoped looked like thanks. Then he spoke into the mic. “Subjugation team.”

The now naked soldiers, who had lined up behind Jenna with a precise two feet of space between each of them and the man behind him, turned smartly and saluted, shouting, “Yes, sir.”

Despite the pain he felt at turning Jenna over to them, it was very hard not to admire the hard muscles of the men who would now whip her at his command, or the size of their cocks, held each in its owner’s left hand, as the
Manual of Traditional Values—Army Edition
enjoined on men who were to degrade a young woman.

Degradations carried out by the Army of Western Liberation are to be managed in an orderly fashion. Soldiers assigned degradation duties are to maintain control of themselves even while in the act of punishing or fondling the woman subject to the degradation protocol. Soldiers are to hold their penises in their left hands, and to keep themselves erect at all times in order to be ready to ejaculate on the woman as necessary. Because every woman subject to degradation has previously been assigned to an officer, soldiers are under no circumstances permitted to penetrate the woman with their penises.

Bradley couldn’t see how his men would have the slightest difficulty remaining erect for Jenna. He himself, to his distress, had grown very hard despite his dismay on Jenna’s behalf.

“Degradation duty, fifteen minutes,” he said.

“Yes, sir!” they responded.

“Lieutenant Jacobs, you may begin when ready.”

“Yes, sir!” Jacobs shouted, saluting.

Bradley saluted as smartly as he could, and Jacobs walked around Jenna to stand in front of her, stroking his cock slowly. On the screen, Bradley saw out of the corner of his eye, the split screen had changed to an enormous close-up of Jacobs’ penis juxtaposed with Jenna’s face, eyes wide in alarm and mouth open to pant.

“Folks,” announced Joe Franklin, “the protocol for a military degradation is laid out pretty formally: the commanding officer of the degradation detail—that’s Lieutenant Jacobs, there—will be the first to humiliate little Jenna by jerking off while his men degrade her. Note that Captain Clark’s men are not permitted to fuck Jenna, because her charms have been assigned to their commanding officer.”

On the screen, the split screen shot had become single, showing Jacobs putting his fingers on Jenna’s mouth, stroking her lips and making her suck his fingers while he jerked off with his left hand. Bradley forced himself to keep watching, and he kept the smile plastered on his face. From where he stood, he could hear the wet sounds of Jenna’s submission to the lieutenant’s fingers as for a few moments, sometimes rubbing the head of his cock against her cheek and sometimes slapping her nose with it he murmured, “Nice. Look at my cock. That’s it. Good little whore.”

Jacobs was not a bad person; he was only following the manual, which said that soldier’s on degradation detail should be careful to humiliate the girl as much as possible, to increase the correctional effect on her and on the observers. At that moment, though, Bradley could have killed him, and all the other naked men (for the three other subjugation teams had stripped, and lined up in groups of five), waiting patiently, watching on the big screen as Jacobs’ cock dominated Jenna’s pretty face.

Jacobs’ eyes lifted from the enchanting sight, and he looked at Corporal Redfern. “Put the anal probe in, corporal, if you please,” he said. “Let’s see how she looks with that up her butt.”

If you please.

* * *

The lieutenant’s cock smelled different from Captain Clark’s, but Jenna couldn’t figure out why. Nor could she figure out why Captain Clark assigning her to his men didn’t now seem as horrid a thing as she thought it would be. Her arms were uncomfortable, bound behind her, and they would be very stiff indeed when the soldiers finally freed her, and her bottom stung like anything, from the cat. Her jaw ached already from the way the lieutenant kept it her mouth open with his fingers. But something else seemed to be happening inside her.

Part of it must be that Captain Clark had deemed her worthy of sharing with his men. Part of it must be that all she must do was lie there and undergo things she had already undergone, in her house, at the hands of a man she now felt she could trust. And now that the announcer had said they wouldn’t actually put their cocks inside her Jenna almost felt… good.

To her mingled shame and, yes, arousal, though, she realized that part of it must also be that knowing Lieutenant Jacobs enjoyed himself caressing his cock before her eyes—yes, even that he had called her a “good little whore”—made Jenna feel pleasure, despite the shame. Five men—then fifteen more—naked, their cocks hard with desire to… to
degrade
modest Jenna Caprio.

As the lieutenant kept pleasuring himself before Jenna’s face, she watched the corporal fetch the anal probe: long and shiny, with a ball at the end that would go into her bottom and a T-handle at the other. She watched him put lube on the end of it.

“Not too much lube, now, corporal,” said the lieutenant.

“No, sir,” said the corporal.

He disappeared behind Jenna.

When the cool metal ball touched her anus, she cried out in alarm around the fingers in her mouth. Her whole body tensed, and her bottom most of all.

“Look at that, folks,” said the announcer over the loudspeakers. “Young Jenna is trying to keep that probe out, isn’t she?”

She turned her eyes up to the lieutenant’s face, pleadingly. He smiled. “Eyes down, whore,” he said. “You’re not fit to look an officer in the eye when he hasn’t ordered you to, especially when his fingers are in your mouth.”

The probe pushed. Jenna closed her eyes and wailed, gagging on the lieutenant’s fingers as she did so, but receiving no respite from him.

“Take it, girl,” he said. “Take that probe up your butt the way you should.”

She couldn’t relax, the way she finally had when Captain Clark had put his penis there, even though the metal ball was so much smaller than the captain’s cock. But the corporal pushed harder, and now Jenna screamed around the hand that kept her lips open no matter her wishes or her comfort. The probe had gone inside her, and though it wasn’t painful, really, the feeling was so strange and shameful, and the thought of what it must look like on the screen, with the long chrome probe moving now in and out of her bottom, so embarrassing, that she couldn’t do anything but sob around the remorseless lieutenant’s fingers.

“Look at me, whore,” he said, and he stroked her cheek with the knuckles of his right hand, even as his left still held her around the back of her head, the fingers twined in her hair. She did look up at him, and saw a condescending, mock-pitying look on his face that somehow, despite herself, made her whimper with arousal. “Shh. Shh. It’s alright to cry. Just let it out. You’re a whore, now, not a good girl anymore. You belong to the army. You’re for fucking, and it makes you sad. I know. I like making whores cry, so you just let it out, Jenna.”

Horrible and demeaning as the words were, in their mockery of her outraged modesty, they had the opposite effect to their apparent intention.
I belong to Captain Clark,
she thought,
and Captain Clark wants me to please his men.

The probe went in and out. Her bottom clenched helplessly around it.

“Look at that thorough probing they’re giving young Jenna’s anus. Many officers say that a girl gets much more submissive when her backside is being held open, and Jenna’s face seems to indicate the truth of that.”

The lieutenant pulled his fingers out at last and Jenna gasped for breath.

“Corporal, you come here and take this station. I’m going to play with the ass for a while. You’ll come on the face when you’re ready. Frielander.”

“Yes, sir,” came the voice of another soldier behind her.

“You’ll use the dildo in the cunt once I’m done with her butthole. Come on her ass, when you’re ready, and rub it in there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Derton.”

“Yes, sir.” A higher, younger voice.

“When Redfern or Frielander shoots his load, you’re where he was. Wantage.”

“Yes, sir.” A British accent.

“Same for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jenna gasped at each of these orders, her heart beating wildly. And… and her pussy clenching, melting, flowing with arousal. How could it?

Captain Clark gave me to them. When it’s over… a week of pleasure.
She pictured him holding her, then, suddenly, and the image seemed to shed a ray of beautiful light on this sordid scene that he had managed so that she wasn’t really afraid, because she knew he would look after her, and heal her. Whipped, fucked, probed, shamed, degraded: punished for her town’s misdeeds in the most humiliating way the insane general and his high command could devise—but also guided, and cared for.

The corporal’s manhood, much darker and much bigger than the lieutenant’s, loomed in front of her. “Watch my big cock,” came the deep, rich voice. “I’m gonna give you a nice pearl necklace, Jenna.”

She breathed rapidly, suddenly feeling a wicked desire to compare the heady smell of this enormous manhood with the other two she had known that day. Against her bottom-hole she felt the probe again, pushing, and as the enormous dark member slapped her cheek and even rubbed across her closed lips, she gave a yielding cry as she remembered Captain Clark’s lesson, and pushed down to give her burning anus to the metal probe of his executive officer.

After the fourth subjugation team had done its duty, Jacobs and Redfern freed Jenna from the block, while Bradley watched, trying as hard as he could to look as if he didn’t care about either her physical or her psychological well-being. He supposed that there couldn’t actually be a gallon of semen drying on her skin, but it did look that way, and the sight made him sad and furious even as he—who had had to stand erect in both senses for the past hour as he watched the degradation—longed to reclaim Jenna as his own.

Thank God that at this point an officer was expected to show affection for the girl with whom he would have his strange kind of honeymoon. Thank God the regulations specified that Jenna must be allowed to recover, now, in order not to risk her future value as a pleasure girl.

“Well, folks,” came Joe Franklin’s voice, “this subjugation is in the books. You can bet that Springfield won’t fall short on that quota again any time soon, knowing how much worse the penalty will be next time.”

Bradley looked out at the faces of the townspeople, stonily looking back at him. The younger women had long since stopped weeping, and merely held hands, facing forward with tear-brightened eyes. The young men couldn’t meet his eyes, of course, in view of how hard their cocks must necessarily have gotten. The older men, to a one, had their right arms around the shoulders of their wives, and stared back at him, making him think of the fury in Jenna’s father’s face that morning, while the weary faces of the older women reminded him of Jenna’s mother.

If only he could tell them that if he and Jenna had anything to say about it, it all might be over soon.