Subjugated (21 page)

Bradley looked down at her, and Jenna could see in his face exactly what the general had meant about fighting for possession of
a pretty girl who knows her place
. She saw delight in his eyes, and the delight made her raise her knees just as he had told her to do, made her take them in her hands and spread herself shamefully open, her hips turning so far upward that she could catch an embarrassing glimpse of her shaven pussy’s pink inner lips, gaping open a little as if pleading with her captain to take her there instead of putting his cock in her bottom, that terrible, humiliating ordeal of subjugation.

He advanced and put his hand out. Her brow furrowed and she caught the inside of her cheek in her teeth as he touched her bottom-cheek.

“So pretty,” he said softly. “So pretty with these sweet marks, Jenna.”

She whimpered, realizing that he meant the welts he had made, with his belt and with the horrid cat. Then she cried out loud as he bent and kissed her pussy for a long, long moment, the wet sounds rising loud into the half-lit room where the bright sunshine sneaked around the corners of the blinds. He kissed, licked, and he rubbed all that moisture, from him and her, firmly into her anus. Then, because she knew how to open, now, he entered her there swiftly and forcefully.

She gasped, panted, and cried out at the way he took hold of her knees, opening her even further and even more painfully, but now she… she
loved
the pain, and she didn’t know why.

Because… because she loved
him
. She looked up at Bradley’s fierce face, and she knew that the expression he saw in her own eyes aroused him much, much further, because he started to fuck her anus so hard and fast that all the faint pleasure of the act itself, of her bottom being open and full, went away, and yet somehow the pleasure in her pussy remained.

“Play with yourself for me,” he said. “Right now. Right now, Jenna. Right…”

She put her hand down and rubbed frantically at the place that seemed like it couldn’t be any warmer, and as Bradley held himself still, his cock buried in her backside’s little ring, and the pulsing of his climax began, Jenna fell into a climax of her own, so big that she thought her body couldn’t handle it and she must simply cease to be. She screamed helplessly, because the pleasure was so great it had become pain, just as the pain had somehow become pleasure. The forceful way he held her knees let her push against his hands there just as her bottom seemed to want so desperately to push out his cock, to no avail.

To no avail: she loved Bradley Clark, and he had possession of her. Nothing would be of any avail without that.

When he finally pulled out of Jenna’s bottom, Bradley couldn’t suppress some guilt at the way he had ridden her so hard there despite how sore she must be. The look upon her face, of utter submission, had affected him so strongly that he simply could not control his body’s dominance, though; in that moment, unless he fucked her ass as hard as any soldier could fuck a girl’s ass, he felt he couldn’t go on living.

And now he couldn’t tell her he loved her; couldn’t show her mercy.

He looked down at his beautiful girl, lying exhausted despite her good night’s sleep, looking up at him with wide-eyed wonder, in the echoes of her orgasm. Her body still trembled a little.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered.

He wanted to say,
I love you.
From moment to moment the words almost forced themselves from his lips.

Instead, to cover over that reality—the bedrock reality of his life—he said, “Your anus is coming along nicely, sweetheart. I know the general will enjoy himself tonight.”

She gasped, and her eyes grew bright with tears as Bradley struggled to keep his face impassive. “Thank you, sir,” she said in a thick voice.

“Alright, I’ll order us some breakfast,” Bradley said and picked up the receiver.

He brought her breakfast in bed and ate his own meal at the huge dining table overlooking the capital. When he had nearly finished, the phone rang.

“Captain, the general is very pleased to accept your offer of an evening with your girl. He’ll see you at five o’clock.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” Bradley set his jaw and tried to look like a loyal officer, pleased to have a favor accepted by the most powerful man in the nation.

“So you know, captain, the general likes girls to be fresh for him. You shouldn’t fuck her again today before you bring her up—especially after that pounding you just gave her ass. Looks like she’s in the shower now—tell her to wash her cunt and anus thoroughly, please. She can get some light exercise if she wants after that, or watch a vid or two in the entertainment room. She can have a light lunch—we’ll send that up at one—and she should take a nap after that; at least put her in her room for quiet time, even if she’s not feeling sleepy. Then have her take another quick shower before the madam arrives. Got it, sir?”

“Of course. Thanks.” Bradley hung up.

He went back to the bedroom to get Jenna’s breakfast things. As the staff officer had said, she was in the shower. He tried, mentally, to keep the dangerous oddity of the situation at bay, and walked into the bathroom. Jenna had her back to him, and again his cock rose at the sight of the welts, now truly beginning to fade, that marked her as his. Would she have fresh welts tonight? Even Bradley didn’t know how the plan was supposed to work.

“Jenna,” he said, and she whirled around, her hair sudsy with shampoo and her eyes wide.

“Yes, sir?”

“Please wash your cunt and your anus thoroughly, so that you’re fresh for the general tonight.”

She bit her lip for a moment, and her nostrils flared. Then, “Yes, sir,” she said.

“After your shower, you can go explore a bit in the suite. No clothes. There’s a little gym and an entertainment room with vids you can watch. We’ll have lunch at one. I’m going to go fill out some paperwork in the meantime, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He put on his uniform, helpfully brought and hung in the closet by unseen army hands, and, in a daze, took the elevator down to central command headquarters. He accepted the handshakes of the staff officers with the smuggest look he could manage upon his face, and read over the report they had prepared for him to file. All they needed was his signature.

Report on subjugatory action, 1 May 2370, Springfield, NW

I, Capt Bradley Clark, 35th Rgmt, arrived in Springfield at nine a.m. with a picked platoon from 4th Cpny. I proceeded into the Caprio house, where I subjugated Jenna Caprio, eighteen, in penalty of the failure of Springfield to meet its obligations to the high command. I spanked Miss Caprio upon her bare buttocks, and paddled her for attempting to escape. I then removed Miss Caprio to her bedroom, where I whipped her with my belt and penetrated her with my penis in her mouth and her vagina, engaging in vigorous intercourse in both orifices. I climaxed, and discharged my semen, in Miss Caprio’s vagina.

I allowed Miss Caprio to wash. I then penetrated her anus and climaxed there after several minutes of vigorous intercourse.

I then leashed Miss Caprio and bound her hands behind her. I paraded her naked through the streets of Springfield, to the town square, where I delivered her to my platoon for degradation. After an examination by HDI matron Joan Trest, during which I punished Miss Caprio with the cat o’ nine tails for smiling disrespectfully, my picked platoon, under the command of Lieutenant John Jacobs, my executive officer, degraded Miss Caprio in teams of five.

Miss Caprio proved highly satisfactory to the men of the platoon. They expressed their approval of the appearance and responsiveness of her mouth, her vagina, and her anus several times both during and after their vigorous and humiliating play with her body. They ejaculated on Miss Caprio externally on several occasions. Their DNA samples are on file for purposes of establishing the paternity of any child she might conceive, in the unlikely event that their zygotic material made its way inside her vagina.

Miss Caprio’s conduct as a novice pleasure girl was exemplary, and I recommend her for regular duty as soon as her subjugation period has ended.

The final formula was, Bradley knew, standard. His reaction to it though, took him by surprise: as he signed the report mechanically, Bradley thought,
Whatever happens tonight, Jenna and I are going to be together. I don’t care if I have to lay this city to its final waste; we’re getting out of here alive.

* * *

Jenna heard the elevator door open, and heard Bradley say, “She’s in the bedroom.” She had just stepped out of the shower, where she had tried desperately to let the hot water somehow wash the fear from her heart.

To no avail.

“Hello, Jenna!” said the beautiful older woman who walked right into the bedroom, wearing an elegant beige pantsuit and pearls around her neck. In her hand she held a garment bag, which she threw onto the bed, somehow with a grace that defied the casualness of the gesture. Jenna had never seen anyone like her except in pictures from hundred-year-old fashion magazines. “I’m Camilla, and I’ll be getting you ready for your night with the general.”

Jenna stood and stared. Camilla’s hair was platinum blond, and her skin very tan. Her eyes seemed violet at one moment and blue at the next.

Camilla laughed and advanced to give Jenna a hug, to which Jenna had even less idea of what the proper response should be than she did to Camilla’s appearance. The silk of the pantsuit whispered softly against her naked skin. “I know, I know,” Camilla said, her voice sounding somehow like a flute was playing in room nearby. “You’re very nervous. And you should be. But you’ve done very well so far. You’re going to be fine.”

Something about Camilla did reassure Jenna. She had been so frightened—much too frightened to sleep—when Bradley told her she must go to the bedroom to have ‘quiet time’ after lunch. Visions of the general, of his quarters, of his discipline room, filled her mind and made a mockery of her restful position in bed. She had at last fallen into a sort of stupor, though, out of which Bradley’s knock on the door and his voice saying, “Time to shower, Jenna,” had finally pulled her.

Now this strange
madam
held her at arm’s length, looking her up and down. “Yes, you’re just what the general likes, aren’t you? Just make certain you don’t resist him, and he’ll treat you like a perfect china doll. He likes to fuck his china dolls very thoroughly, of course, but he usually doesn’t whip them beforehand.”

But I must resist. I must let him kiss me, and then I must resist.
What did it mean? Was Camilla part of it? A sudden doubt filled her—maybe Camilla was telling her the real plan, and changing what Bradley had said? But he had said that the suite was completely monitored, so if Camilla were part of the plan, anything she said here in the open would be the opposite of the plan, wouldn’t it?

Plan Beta.
When her mother had first shown her the strange note, Jenna hadn’t known what to make of it at all. She had never thought it would bring her here, about to be brought—
loaned—
to General Dumfries.

“Alright, girl. We’ve got to get you into your clothes.”

A white corset and white stockings. White lace panties that went over the suspenders that hung down from the corset. “So he can take them off you easily,” Camilla said. The corset, fastened by Velcro at the back. “So that he can take it off whenever he wants.” Elegant white pumps on her feet. “He likes old-fashioned elegance.”

She had a hard time walking in the heels—she had only ever worn them before to a single high school dance, and the strange breathless feeling the corset gave her distracted her as she tried to balance. Camilla made her practice up and down the bedroom several times.

On one of those walks, Jenna caught sight of herself in a mirror, and she gasped to see the way her body seemed entirely appropriated by the garments clearly placed upon her body by a man who wished to have her charms at his disposal. The corset reminded her of the way Bradley had bound her hands behind her, and the suspenders and white lace panties seemed to take the feeling of the red panties and magnify it a hundred-fold. Jenna saw a pleasure girl in the mirror.

“Hair and makeup now.” Camilla’s voice was approving. She sat Jenna in a chair, and made an elegant chignon of the golden hair she brushed until it seemed to shine. Jenna had the strange feeling of simultaneous degradation and luxury as Camilla gathered her tresses into a beautiful silver clip, adorned with a pearl, at the nape of her neck, and draped them over Jenna’s right shoulder.

“Only a little eyeliner, a little blush, and a little lip rouge,” Camilla said. “The general doesn’t like much makeup.” It was indeed a very little eyeliner and a very little blush that Camilla put on, but to Jenna’s surprise she was heavy-handed with the lip rouge, though Jenna thought that it probably wouldn’t be visible on the surveillance cameras that she had twice the amount of makeup on her mouth she had ever had before.

Let him kiss you.
A shudder went through her as she began to see. Would it kill her, too? Why would it matter, if they could free the Western Republic from insane tyranny?

“And now we show your handsome captain how nice a present he’s giving the general tonight.”

Jenna’s eyes filled with tears. Camilla looked sympathetically down at her. “Don’t worry about crying,” she said. “The general likes that a lot.”

She raised Jenna to her feet and led her into the living room. Looking so very handsome in his blue dress coat that Jenna thought she might swoon, Bradley held out his hands to her, adoration in his eyes that made her blush. For a moment she thought that he might kiss her, and she almost shouted “
No!
”
but then the moment passed.

“I’m done here,” Camilla said cheerfully from behind her.

Jenna turned to see the impossibly elegant madam smiling back at her. “Thank you,” she said.

“Thank
you,
” Camilla said. Was there something extra in her eyes?
Thank you for sacrificing yourself for our freedom?