Soon 6403 was surrounded by men and women. The pliers were in constant use, as clients pulled out tufts of curly, black hairs. Other clients squeezed the breasts or twisted the nipples. Men and women slapped 6403's fleshy buttocks and upraised thighs, and one played with the anus, slipping a plastic cocktail stirrer in and out. 6403 did vocalize, not words but cries and whimpers, as she squirmed and swung under the influence of so many invasive hands and the tugs of the hair-plucking pliers. 6409 covered her eyes and turned her head away. Then she said to the gentleman client, "I'm sorry, I have to circulate, you know." She got up and fled, her back to the stage. In a moment, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "6409, I'd like that drink, now, bourbon, neat. Please bring it to the table, and we can resume our conversation." She went to comply, and he let her sit with her back to the stage. Still, she could see others watching intently as 6403 was tormented, and she could see other cadets, some who had trained with her and were also here for the first time, who seemed very enthusiastic about their duties. 6407 was "lap dancing", and 6411 sat on a man's lap while he played with her breasts.

Sometime later, the captain again took the microphone. Behind her, 6403 hung, tears on her cheeks, looking between her bulging breasts at her now hairless mons. Probably 6403 couldn't see, but 6409 could clearly see; her outer labia were plucked clean, a blotchy pink from the abuse they had suffered. The inner lips were clear to see, even the clitoris peeping out at their apex. Water dripped from 6403's anus; someone had inserted several ice cubes into her rectum. "Ladies and gentlemen, since many of our girls tonight are unfamiliar to you, we are going to hold our customary auction. Cadets, to the stage, please." 6409, and many others of Foxtrot Company assembled on the stage. They were quite a crowd, especially as no one seemed to want to stand near 6403. "First, I present to you 6409, who is, I assure you, a virgin!" The captain took 6409's hand and led her to the front of the stage. "As you know, under such unusual circumstances, I can only accept bids from pre-approved bidders." There was more or less silence for several seconds, as bids were placed, silently, electronically.

"Is she truly a blonde?" came a voice from the rear. The captain plucked at 6409's skirt, which fell away, revealing her sparse blonde bush and pouting labia. 6409's mind reeled with conflicting emotions. She had been told, years ago, by an indulgent aunt, that first sex is not the big moment in a girl's life. It is the first time she undresses for a man, that first nudity is the significant event. But here she was, displayed for dozens of men and women. She had not undressed, voluntarily exposing herself to her special man. She had been exposed, like a manikin in a store window, for anyone to look at. That special romantic moment would never be hers. A tear slid down her cheek.

"Judge for yourself," said the captain, removing the halter and leaving 6409 totally naked, but for her shoes. By force of will, 6409 stood there, at attention, while strangers examined her and placed bids on her virginity. Never had she felt so naked, so exposed, so.violated. For a brief moment, 6409 contemplated trying to escape. Of course, it was impossible. She would never make it to the door, and if she did, a naked woman, surrounded by unfamiliar jungle, with no place to go. They would catch her and punish her. She knew she must do anything to avoid punishment.

She was almost relieved when the gentleman she had been talking with showed up to claim her. She tried to smile, while still concealing her vulva with her hands. "There, there, 6409, this is no time for modesty," he said, as he took her hands in one of his. "You should be proud, the star of the auction, an altogether fine specimen of young womanhood. Stand tall. Walk proudly." 6409 could hear 6412, a stunning redhead, being displayed and auctioned as he led her from the room and down some corridors to a room marked "Dungeon 7."

The concrete block room, lighted only by open flames until the man flicked on the electric lights, was clearly designed to inspire fear. There was a thing like a medieval rack, ropes and chains, a pillory and a whipping bench, as well as a four-poster bed. The door closed with the loud chunk of a sturdy lock. There was no escape. The man turned to her. Automatically, she tried to cover her breasts and crotch with her arms. "Now, now, this is no time for modesty," he said, softly, soothingly. She backed away from him. "You've been displayed to dozens of men, just now, at the auction." But this man was so close, and she was locked in a torture chamber. She watched as he picked up a whip. "Attention!" he ordered, and she snapped to attention, with her arms straight at her sides. "Parade rest!" She put her hands behind her and her legs apart, as she had been doing daily on the drill field. "That's better. The academy trains women well." The man circled her, eying her up and down at close range. She kept her eyes to the front, but she got a good look at him. He was probably older than her father, but he was still lean and muscular, sort of like Clint Eastwood in his later movies. His dress was plain, but he was wearing a Rolex and a big diamond ring. "Men are attractive in direct proportion to the size of their bank accounts" popped into mind. He was holding the whip, it was rather like a leather covered cane, and, as he passed behind her once more, she was sure she would feel the bite of the whip across her behind. She tensed for the blow. Instead, his arm reached around her and his hand grasped her breast, while the cloth of his trousers pressed her buttocks. "You are a skittish one. Your captain warned me that I would have to go slowly with you. It's going to take all my self-control; you are so beautiful. I like young, slender, girls. I like firm breasts. More than a handful is unnecessary. I could so easily fall in love with you." His fingers squeezed, and 6409 whimpered, unused to such treatment. "Are you truly a virgin?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you hoping I'll deflower you?"

"No, sir."

"But you will cooperate if I do."

"Yes, sir. You have the whip."

"And the whip frightens you?"

"Yes, sir. And the captain, who will see me punished, if I do not please you."

"You don't think you would enjoy submitting to me, being the recipient of my sexual attentions?"

"No, sir. I will do it, but not willingly, sir. I am not yet a whore."

"You don't really think you have a choice, do you?"

"Realistically, no, sir. I'm afraid of whips."

"So you will not, of your own free will, surrender your body to me." He squeezed her breast again and then released it, walking to stand in front of her and examine her breasts. "No, I don't think you will. Yet I must be your trainer. Sit on the end of that table." He pointed with the whip. The table indicated was a gynecological examining table, complete with stirrups. She knew she must obey, but she did so reluctantly. The table had two ends, so she sat on the end without the stirrups. "You amuse me," he said. He placed a leather blindfold over her eyes and buckled it at the back of her head. He raised her wrists and clipped the bracelets to her chain necklace, so her elbows were raised and her breasts lifted enticingly. He pushed her backward, and she realized he had placed a soft pillow there for her head. She was lying on her back, her legs hanging over the end of the table. Soon she felt her ankle cuffs being raised, and her legs spread apart; her bottom lifted from the table. Her vulva was totally exposed, totally vulnerable. She felt his finger tip slide down the inner surface of her thigh, and she flinched away from it. "I suppose I must," he said with a sigh, and he placed a belt around her waist, which pressed the small of her back against the padded table and thereby immobilized her hips. Her buttocks hung out over the edge of the table, while her legs formed a wide vertical V. His finger slid down her thigh, traced the crease of her groin, skimmed over the fine blonde wisps of her pubic hair. She could not move to pull away. She was utterly helpless.