Subjugated (14 page)

Monstrous. Jenna, who could have gotten a real education in the Eastern Commonwealth—a pleasure girl, then a baby factory, and finally a secretary. Nothing to be done.

“So Captain Clark is helping her learn traditional values. I see. That really is brilliant, colonel. I agree. Any chance you can stay on the line with us as the second part begins?”

“Certainly, Joe. I’d love to.”

“That’s great, because I happen to know you’re a real aficionado of anal discipline, which is an area that I think a lot of folks out there don’t understand as well as they should.”

“That’s right, Joe. The high command just issued an advisory about that, and the human development inspection teams will be coming to towns to give mandatory training sessions to married couples. Anal sex and anal punishment are a very important part of the overall traditional values program, and too many husbands are letting it fall by the wayside.”

“As we watch Jenna finishing up changing the sheets here—and oh, my isn’t that butt pretty with the belt marks!—can you give us the thirty-second version of why anal is so important, colonel?”

“Sure, Joe. It really comes down to a girl’s anus being her most private part. Jenna there has always thought of her arse-hole as shameful and secret. To be touched there by a man, and to have something put there by him, when all her life she’s thought that part of her was, let’s say, exit-only—it subjugates her by its very nature. General Dumfries is strongly of the opinion that every married woman should be taken anally at least once a week, to teach her to respect her husband’s authority.”

* * *

How could changing her sheets, something Jenna had done once a week for the past ten years, be so humiliating?

I’ve never changed them dressed only in red lace panties. I’ve never changed them with two AV crews watching, one for the sheets and my face and the other for the part of me between my waist and my knees—the part claimed by the panties.

I’ve never changed sheets stained with my maiden blood.

Her face burned as hot as the sun as she saw the cameraman focus in on the stain, and then turn the lens to her face to watch her blush. Trembling, she stripped the sheet and the padded mattress cover, which also bore spots of red, off the mattress, and put them in the old hamper in her closet. From the top of her dresser she took the clean mattress cover she had fetched after her shower, when the water had run red as she rinsed the soap from her pussy.

Her cunt. The cunt Captain Clark had fucked. She was sore there, now, but the soreness didn’t prevent her from whimpering not so much in pain as in pleasure as she washed herself between her thighs, thinking of the way he had ridden her, her wrists held tight behind her back and his command to keep her bottom still for his thrusts ringing in her ears.

Why did she want to belong to him, when he had degraded her like that? Why, as she washed away the blood he had left there where his cock had changed her pussy forever, making a woman of Jenna once and for all, did she hope that she could please him, when he renewed his mastering, and did the terrible thing she now knew awaited her, back in her room?

So that he would be gentle with her? So that when he entered her bottom by force and moved his cock in and out to please himself and subjugate the girl whose maidenheads were forfeit, he would fuck her little anus without too much violence?

Yes, but…

She took the fitted sheet from the dresser, almost forgetting the cameras, now, as she tried to puzzle out her own state of mind.

But also…

She had almost finished the fitted sheet, and when she was done with it the door would open, and the ravishing of her bottom would begin.

But also, I can tell that he feels something for me much more than a brute would feel for a girl he claims with his hands and his cock—a girl he whips and fucks and delivers to the high command’s whorehouse. I can tell that Captain Clark is not a brute, and that he cares for me.

The thought, which she had just as she heard the door begin to open, made her gasp. She was standing, having finished the last corner of the fitted sheet, by the foot of the bed, facing away from the door. Just as she gasped, then, at her realization that this man cared for her despite everything he had done to her and would do to her, she also instinctively turned around to face him, reflexively covering her breasts with her left arm and her scantily-lace-covered pussy with her right hand.

There he stood, looking stern and also
hungry
in a way that made her heart beat even faster. He wore a red robe, the national color of the Western Republic—deep burgundy, like port wine. For the first time, then, Jenna truly saw how handsome Captain Clark was. What was his first name? He had said it, hadn’t he, in the beginning, all that time ago? Bradley, maybe?

He simply looked at her, and she saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a little smile.

“P—please, sir,” Jenna said, not sure why she felt that she must say something.

“Please what, Jenna?” he asked softly.

“Please be gentle with… with—with m—my…”

“With your bottom, Jenna?”

Jenna felt her right hand, seemingly of its own accord creep around her hip until it covered the split place where the narrow band of lace enclosed her cringing little bottom-hole. She nodded slowly, looking at him with eyes she knew must look round as saucers.

How could his long, thick cock go inside her there? She felt the little ring of muscle contract as she clenched her punished cheeks, still very sore from the paddle and the captain’s belt.

“I’m afraid,” he said, “that because of your town’s infraction, I must have you roughly there. It will hurt, because I must make it hurt.”

“Wh—why?” Jenna breathed.
And why is my poor, sore pussy getting so warm at this humiliation—at the idea of this officer
hurting
me in my bottom?

“Because a rough ride in a virgin anus is the most powerful symbol of mastery the high command has ever found. As you cry out in pain while I fuck your backside, your fellow townspeople will hear in your voice, as they will see in your face in the video every adult in the town will watch, later today, of your anal submission, the consequence of failure to please the high command. I will fuck your bottom, to teach them that the army of the Western Republic will always have its way. They will learn that it is better to obey the high command, in order that the army not come and take every woman in Springfield back to Las Vegas for a regimental pleasure night.”

“A r—regimental…” Jenna was breathing very quickly, and she couldn’t even tell why.

“A regimental pleasure night,” Captain Clark said very severely. “A night when fifty, sixty, even a hundred naked women are put at the disposal of a whole regiment, in the Great Hall of Justice.”

“Oh, God…”

“Do you not understand, then, Jenna,” he said more softly, “why I must make an example of you? Why I must thrust hard and deep inside your bottom, and have my way until I have taken my pleasure to the utmost?”

Jenna imagined Amy and Paula suffering what she had suffered, along with all their friends.
Plan Beta.

Could she tell Captain Clark about Plan Beta? Something in the way he spoke seemed pitched to be heard by her and her alone, as if she must understand that he did not want to do any of this unless she, too, wanted it.

“Yes, sir,” Jenna whispered.

What Colonel Davies had said in the broadcast had freed Bradley to treat Jenna in a way more in tune with his feelings for her, certainly. He could be less severe and more understanding, even affectionate. After all, it appeared that the colonel, whose predilections were entirely in line with General Dumfries, was enchanted with the different sort of subjugation spectacle Bradley had begun to provide.

Danger lay there, though, and if he went too far along that path, disaster loomed. Thus, in answering her plea for gentleness, he had to be as severe as he knew how to be. She must understand that her first anal would be for her subjugator’s pleasure alone—that his duty demanded that he pound her there until she felt that her poor bottom would never be the same again.

Truly, too, he had learned under the tutelage of Sergeant Connor and Rose the pleasure girl that to ride a female bottom roughly and without regard for the owner’s comfort provided him with the same erotic satisfaction he imagined the general felt in the act, which legend said he performed every night with a different girl.

“When I have had your anus, Jenna,” he said, “you will be what we in the army call an
ass-girl
. Do you know what that means?”

Mutely, pretty Jenna shook her head, her blond ponytail swaying sweetly as she expressed her puzzlement in a knit brow.

“It means that your anus has opened to a man’s cock, so you belong to that man in a very special way. You won’t just be an ass-girl, Jenna. You’ll be
my
ass-girl.”

He watched her mouth open, heard her breathing quicken.

“Some officers keep a little notebook with the names of their ass-girls in it, and show the notebook to their friends.”

“Oh, God,” Jenna whispered. “Oh, please… please don’t…”

“Don’t put you in my notebook, Jenna? You’re already there. I wrote your name in my ass-book the day I was assigned to take your bottom’s virginity.” It wasn’t true, though he had often wondered whether Colonel Davies might have such a notebook. He knew, though, that it was the kind of clever, degrading fiction that the high command encouraged subjugating officers to employ.

“Oh, God,” she repeated, her face crimson.

“Turn around and bend down over your bed, girl. Then reach back and open up those cheeks again for me, just like you did before. I’m going to lubricate you just enough that I can have a nice ride in that tight little anus of yours.”

She stood still.

“Don’t make me whip you again, Jenna. I’ll punish you even worse this time than I did before I popped your cherry. You’ll have your backside fucked now, one way or another, because your town couldn’t meet its obligations. You need to submit to the reality of the situation, sweetheart: before you leave this room, your ass is going to be well-ridden, and it will be much easier if you relax as much as you can and let it happen. My cock won’t feel nice in there, but if you’re a good girl and learn to open for me, it will feel a lot nicer than it will if I have to whip you to get you bent over and then have to force my way into your backside.”

Jenna’s face became a mask of woe, and her chin quivered. At the same time, though, she put her left hand on her bottom, along with her right, in a way that seemed filled with ambiguity—as if despite her fear Bradley had also called up in her arousal at the thought of the way he must claim her with his cock. For another long moment, she stood there, gently squeezing her bottom in her two hands, as if trying to reassure herself that she still had some control over what happened there.

Bradley sighed, and risked showing too much. He said softly, “Be a good girl, Jenna, please.”

Her eyes widened, perhaps as she saw kindness in his. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and then she started to turn her body around, turning her head as she did so to keep looking at him, imploring him with her eyes.

“Eyes front, Jenna,” Bradley said. Her mouth opened in a little O of startlement, and she turned to face the headboard. “You are not to see what happens back here. That sight is for the man who enjoys your ass, and for anyone he wants to share the view with. Maybe when we’re together in the Palace of Joy this week, I’ll let you take a look in a mirror, while I’m fucking your ass. Would you like that, Jenna? You can tell me the truth.”

“N—no, sir,” Jenna whispered.

Bradley stepped forward, and put his hand on the small of her back. He felt the same strange, enchanted sensation as he had the first time he had touched her, when he had raised her from her kitchen floor to march her into the living room for her first spanking.

“Of course you wouldn’t like it, now, would you, Jenna?” he said softly. He saw the cameraman on the other side of the bed get a close-up of her face, and he wished he could see it. One thing he definitely would do, in the Palace of Joy, was fuck Jenna’s backside with her facing a mirror so that he could watch her face as she submitted to him.

He pushed gently against her back, bending her over, then; as she began to obey, he put his hand down to her sweet little bottom, still in the red panties, where Jenna’s own hands also rested. Bradley worked his middle finger under the red lace, and down between her pretty cheeks. Jenna, still in the process of bending over, gave a tiny, forlorn cry, like the mewling of a kitten when she felt his fingertip press against the place where Bradley’s cock would go so very soon.

“But when I tell you to look, so that you can understand what it means to be my ass-girl, you’ll look, or I’ll whip you. Do you understand, sweetheart? Put that pretty face on the bed, now. That’s right. Turn to the camera. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

* * *

His finger pressed there, again, and Jenna, desperate now to have him think her obedient, took her bottom-cheeks in her fingers and spread them, blushing furiously once again at this newest shame.

“Good girl,” he said. Again the phrase had its strange, almost magical effect on her, made her perceive him not as her tormentor but as her loving caretaker.

Ass-girl
. Jenna would be Captain Clark’s ass-girl, forever. The thought made her tremble in fear even as her pussy clenched traitorously. How could she push the thought away any longer? She wanted to belong to him. The idea of spending a week, learning to please him, in the high command’s Palace of Joy, filled her with shameful desire rather than the revulsion she should have felt.

Plan Beta. If you are subjugated, they will take you to the Palace of Joy. There are allies there.

The words, written on a scrap of paper, given to her in the garden as she worked with her mother one spring day.

Say to each person you meet, man or woman, “My town is small but pretty.” If that person says to you, “Perhaps you shall return one day,” he or she is an ally, and will help you.