There was another pause. She actually watched in slow motion as they replayed the beating she had received. She heard murmurs of approval from the audience, and she realized she had endured at least a dozen blows needlessly, she was so delirious with pain/passion. She hung her head and tried to recover her senses, aware that her insides were still quaking from the muscle spasms evoked by the beating of her clitoris. She looked again at the monitor and saw that her glowing lips and inner thighs were glistening.

The next set of volunteers removed the spanking machines and set up something else. On the monitor 6409 saw a hand slide a black rubber thing, stiff and straight, into her tortured cunt. Even though the thing was no bigger around than her finger, it hurt going in,.parting her bruised labia. "With each stroke of the pump, a measured amount of water will be forced into the bladder, stretching the vagina. Each cadet knows she will suffer terribly, if she loses the contest. You will be amazed how much the pussy can be stretched. Begin." Gritting her teeth, 6409 watched the monitor as the tube in her vagina shuddered and swelled with each stroke of the pump. Each increment stretched her tight vagina, and she knew she couldn't stand much more, so she just gave in and called, "Stop." The bladder was pulled from between her legs, already enlarged to the size of a big banana. Her vulva ached, but it wasn't torn. She noted the 8 on her screen and watched the other monitors to see what she had avoided by her early surrender. Each of the other cadets seemed determined not to lose. The girl on her right, with a 7, grunted and moaned as the black thing swelled and mashed her beaten labia against her inner thighs, as they bulged outward, encircling the horrid black cylinder. The girl on the left seemed to be more stoic; she just held still, gasping though clenched teeth, as the bladder grew inside her. At one point, the pumping seemed to stop, as the Mistress remarked, "See the little sluts enjoy it. They just love to have their pussies stretched. They never knew a man who could fuck them like the pump can." Then, at her signal, the pumping resumed, each stroke visibly stretching the cunts of the cadets. Their labia were stretched thin as the black things swelled to the size of a Coke can. Still the cadets would not give in, and 6409 could not believe that they could take much more. Finally, on the left, she heard, "Unnngh! Stop!", followed immediately by surrender on the right. As the huge bladder was removed from the cadet on the left, it seemed to swell to the size of a melon, and streaks of blood stained her thighs. The cunt stretcher on the right was equally big, but the victim, wet with pussy juice, did not seem to have suffered the tearing that the girl on the left had endured.

Again, there was a pause, as cadets and audience alike watched a replay. Now, 6409 saw how it was possible for a fist to be inserted into the vagina, or for a baby's head to emerge. "The scores now stand at 8, 8, and 8," said the Mistress of Ceremonies. "The contest continues." She approached each cadet in turn and squeezed each imprisoned head between her thighs. "Feel that wetness? Smell that aroma? I'm enjoying this, and the loser is mine!" The black things, deflated again, were now pushed against each cadet's anus. There was no lubrication, and the girls whimpered as the pressure stretched their orifice. 6409 tried to relax, and at last the black cylinder slid past her sphincter muscles and plunged into her rectum. She could see on the monitor, her little rosebud clutching the pipe. The competing cadets had also accepted the prod. Again the pumping started, and soon 6409 felt so stretched that she feared her rectum would tear. She knew from her vocational instruction videos that anal sex could be dangerous, for the rectal walls are not as strong as the vagina, which is, after all, made to be stretched. Still, 6409 was determined not to lose the contest. The pain was worse that any difficult bowel movement she had experienced. She could feel the rubber bladder reaching deeper into her, getting longer like an erecting penis, the stretching of her bowels making her shake with spasms of intestinal cramping, making the bells hanging from her now numb nipples jangle as she writhed in torment. It felt as if her abdomen must be stretching, as in a pregnancy, and the pressure on something in her vagina was sending strange sensations through her belly. On the monitor, she could see her anus stretched unbelievably, even though the bulk of the balloon was inside her, and she could feel that the tender skin was stretched to the point of tearing. Again, she was losing her mind, seemingly having multiple orgasms even as the pain seemed unendurable. She heard someone call a stop, and she tried to listen for another stop, but she never heard it, over her own screams. Finally, she managed to draw a breath and scream the word, "STOP!" A wave of sensation, a definite orgasm, washed through her as the thing was pulled from her burning, stinging ass hole. When she regained her composure, she looked at the monitor and saw blood, but, more surprisingly, she saw she was drenched with vaginal secretions. The score stood at 10, 9, 11. She was winning!

A great sense of relief came over her as the pillory was unlocked, and several hands helped her to stand, while they removed the nipple clamps. AH! The pain! They released her ankles. Someone wiped her bleeding anus with a soothing lotion, and she was led to a kind of chair. The seat, she realized, was a toilet seat, open at the front, like the ones in public toilets, and they strapped her in with her knees spread. A camera was aimed at her tortured vulva, not quite as red as it had been when it was being spanked with leather paddles. She noted with some curiosity that she had never really seen herself down there from the point of view of the camera, and she could see on the monitor the magnified details of her private place. Somehow, it didn't bother her that dozens of women were watching, too. She was quite self absorbed. Women applied Superglue to 6409's outer labia and pressed the edges to her thighs, so that her clitoris, inner lips, and the tight vestibule to her vagina were all exposed to the camera. 6409 looked at the second place cadet. She had been strapped into a similar chair, except the monitor showed that she had rubber dildo rising vertically into her vagina. The losing cadet was still bent over her saw horse, even though the pillory had been removed. She could not, however, straighten up, as her breasts were encased in bell-shaped plastic suckers which pulled her down, even as her breasts expanded, trying to fill the plastic cavities. The Mistress of Ceremonies strutted and flourished her black crop. "The winner will be rewarded with clitoral orgasms, the best kind, as we all know. The second place cadet will get fucked into insensibility. The loser will have the privilege of eating me out, while you spectators can do whatever you like to her other end."

A jet of tepid water spurted up between 6409's thighs, and someone adjusted it so that it sprayed against the hood of her clitoris. She thought of that morning, with Ricardo, and wished he was in control. She tried to close her eyes and imagine he was holding her, but that didn't work, with the noisy audience commenting on the events. The sensation was delicious, almost painful, it was so intense. 6409 opened her eyes and, on the monitor, saw the magnified image of the glans of her clitoris peeping out, as the spray tickled it. She had seen pictures in her video course on masturbation, but she had never seen her own.

The other seated cadet shook, bobbing as if on horseback, as the dildo mechanically rose and fell, pumping her vagina. The Mistress of ceremonies was supine in a chair, holding the loser's head and forcing her to lick the Mistress's cunt, while another woman, naked, with a huge strap-on dildo, stroked in and out of the loser's cunt, gyrating her hips so as to maximize the stretching of the victim's vagina. The loser was making muffled noises, hardly able to breath with her mouth and nose pressed against the hairy vulva of the Mistress. The mechanically-fucked cadet was gasping and groaning and yelling that she was coming and couldn't stand it. 6409 was so lost in intense multiple orgasms that she was hardly aware of what was going on. She must have passed out, for in the morning, she could remember nothing of the remainder of the night.

6409 wakened in the infirmary. She was on her side, and the nurse was applying some sort of salve or ointment to 6409's torn anus. "I'm going to give you an enema. You will be authorized a liquid diet, and, if you are lucky, the fissures will heal before you need to have a bowel movement. I'm going to give you an inflatable seat cushion, a sort of donut, so you can sit without putting pressure on those nasty bruises on your buttocks." 6409 had never had an enema, not that she could remember, but the nurse was gentle with her. The flow of liquid into her bowels induced some anxiety, but it was wasn't too uncomfortable, nothing compared with the black bladder of the night before. 6409 was past embarrassment at anything they might do to her. she felt no shame as she spewed into a bucket. The second and third irrigations were of no concern, and the nurse murmured encouragement as 6409 put up with increasing volumes of soapy liquid. At last, there was a plain water rinse, which 6409 released as a clear stream, as if from a hose. They gave her a short dress, or a long tee-shirt, and sent her back to the barracks. On the chain around her neck was a red plastic tag, which of course she couldn't read, which would excuse her from running and such. She was allowed to take the rubber donut with her to lunch, to sit on, and the red tag provided her with a liquid meal, something like a soy milk shake.

In a few days 6409 was healed enough to resume normal activities, except her work at the hotel. Instead of working the dining room on the week end and being auctioned off, a sergeant led her directly to one of the dungeons, where she was installed on a horizontal St. Andrew's cross, stretched out in a wide X, her arms and legs widespread. She was blindfolded and left to wait. She was not uncomfortable, except she couldn't scratch her itching nose. In a few minutes, the door opened and several people walked in, she guessed a dozen or so. Then a feminine voice, a voice 6409 didn't recognize, addressed the others, who were evidently male cadets. "You have viewed the instructional materials concerning the female sexual anatomy and sexual response. This is your laboratory, for hands-on experience. There are two inviolable rules. You may not penetrate her body, and you must avoid doing harm. Otherwise you may look and touch as much as you need to acquaint yourselves with the working parts of the, uh, laboratory animal. You will get higher grades if she experiences orgasms, so I encourage you all to have a go at cunnilingus." There followed what seemed like hours of being poked and squeezed and stroked and kissed and sucked and slobbered over. Her breasts were stroked and squeezed and mouthed in every imaginable way, until they were more tender and sensitive than she could have imagined. There were hands, about two dozen, all over her body, some always, of course, exploring her vulva. Young voices spoke in tones of wonder about her responses, how wet she was, how pink she was, how swollen her nipples were. There was no point in being embarrassed. They did not know who she was.her ID necklace was beneath her neck and she could not see who they were. It was all so impersonal, and yet so very personal. "My girl friend used to smell like fish, but this one doesn't," said one cadet, and he tentatively licked her labia and sniffed. He spread her outer lips with his fingers and planted a kiss on her clitoral hood, to the general approval of the others. Encouraged by the others and the instructor, he spent a long time licking and sucking and trying to push his tongue deeper into her vulva. 6409 couldn't help it. She rocked her pelvis and a pink blush spread across her chest as she came, quite nicely. Some cadets actually clapped in appreciation. "My turn!" said another, and a fresh tongue began to lap at her clit. She came sooner, and wetter, this time. Number three was an artist and managed to tease her into an extended crescendo of response which culminated in a gush of vaginal secretions which sprayed his face. There were hoots of approval and much clapping. Number four was more fastidious. He began by carefully washing her vulva and examining the intricacies of her anatomy. Then, very gently and methodically he licked her pink membranes and brought her slowly, inexorably, toward a climax. He finished by sucking and tonguing the now exposed glans of her clitoris, which made her moan out loud for the first time as she shuddered orgasmically. Each subsequent cadet experimenter tried to do at least as well, and, as 6409 was now almost constantly one the edge of an orgasm. The results were very satisfying for all participants, a dozen cunnilinguists, a few dozen orgasms for 6409.

At last there was a respite. Someone gave her a drink of cold water, and 6409 heard the instructor shooing the cadets out of the dungeon. 6409 was able to relax, and she wondered how soon they would release her. She wanted to sleep. But then she heard it all over again, "There are two inviolable rules.", and another dozen males began their laboratory experience.

Sunday night she was spared the hotel entirely, and she spent the evening alone in the barracks, working at the computer screen on her programmed instruction. She was not far into her lessons when 6402 slipped into the barracks, barefoot but wearing her halter and slit skirt. She concealed something under her mattress. "What are you doing back from the hotel so soon? And what's that you don't want me to see?"

"It's a tip from a customer, finest sensemilla. Don't rat on me. I'm gone now." 6402 slipped out and, presumably, ran back to the hotel. 6409 simply continued to work on her lessons. Contraband drugs didn't interest her, and she knew that if she turned 6402 in, she would be shunned, or worse, by the rest of the platoon. They would find ways to get 6409 in trouble. It would be best to ignore the whole thing.

Wrong! At the noon meal, a provost called the cadets to attention. "Attention to orders! Cadet 6402 has been judged guilty of accepting an illegal gratuity and of smuggling contraband into the barracks. Punishment will commence at 13 hundred hours, thirty strokes of the cane and 24 hours in the hot box." The cadets collectively groaned at the severity of the punishment. "6409 witnessed the offense and is adjudged equally culpable for not reporting it." If only 6409 had pretended not to see! "6409 will receive thirty strokes of the cane and 24 hours in the hot box. The entire corps will assemble at the football field by 13 hundred to witness punishment." Male provosts took the two girls from their seats and marched them outside and down to the field. The soccer goals, steel frameworks to hold the nets, were placed facing each other, minus the nets, in front of the stands. A work detail brought out the hot box, a black painted corrugated iron shed on runners and placed it in the center of the field. 6409 could see the shimmering "heat waves" from the sun-heated roof. The nurse stood by with two enema sets, which would be used to assure that the thirsty criminals did not actually die of dehydration. An enema, of course, would not relieve a parched throat, but it would supply needed moisture to replace the liters of sweat which would pour from their naked, battered, bodies. As hundreds of cadets filed into the stadium, the two girls were stripped naked and trussed up for punishment, each spread-eagled in a goal, facing the other. Four hooded cadets, males, stood by with long canes. The girls would be simultaneously beaten both front and back, while the rest of the corps could see each blow and witness the devastating effects on breasts and buttocks. Television cameras were being set up, and a helicopter orbited overhead. Somehow, as she hung there in the sun, in front of all those leering men, awaiting the beating of her life, 6409 chuckled as she imagined the running commentary. ".And our aerial camera clearly shows the blood drawn by that last blow to the breast of 6409." Somehow, her mind could not cope with the enormity of her peril. She hung there, on display, watching the clock as the big hand approached the 12. She noted the commandant, the dean of women, and her company commander apparently deep in discussion, as the hooded cane men practiced their strokes, the canes whirring through the air.

Then, inexplicably, her captain ran toward her. Two young men untied 6409's ankles, as 6402 looked on. Then they released her wrists; she was free! "6409, return to your barracks. Run!" She ran, even as she heard the first of many screams from 6402. Breathless, drenched with sweat, she burst into the dimly lighted barracks, only to be grabbed by the strong arms of a man. "Ricardo!" she cried, as she pressed her sweaty, naked body against him. "You saved me!" She sobbed amid tears of joy. He hugged her to him, then held her at an arm's length and looked at her. Her nipples were erect, and he gently pinched them, her 'on' buttons. Then slid one hand between her thighs and rubbed her suddenly wet sex.

"You seem pleased to see me. I bought your contract." he said. "Now I'm your commanding officer. You are coming home with me, to my plantation. You will be my sex slave, 24/7. Of course, you will still be able to pursue your college degree from the academy. I have a high speed data link installed." She hugged him and pressed her tear-wet cheek against his fancy white shirt. He stroked the fuzz on her scalp. "What happened to your long, blonde hair?"

"It was a wig. My real hair is blonde, but they shave the heads of new cadets."

He kissed the top of her head. "Put on some clothes and get your things. I can't wait to fly you home and fuck your brains out."

- The End -