Hi all, this is my first shot on fiction:
Part I
Being the dulan reluctant conscript that I was, I was initially just glad to be transferred to the coyline office. No more mind-numbing outfield, no more sweating under the hot sun and spending the rest of the day smelling acrid. If not for the coyline clerk who probably keng his way out of our camp, I’ll be spending the next 2 years carrying jerry cans up the tonner and counting stores till the cows come home. Sometimes, I really don’t know how that cb manage to keng so well, doesn’t he have any shame?
“Ok, Ezra, so you will be our coyline clerk from now on. HQ say no more clerks to send, those guniang clerks there pes e cannot stay in, so you will do Jeremiah’s job since he’s gone.”
“Yes Sir.”
I rather be a guniang clerk if I’m going home everyday. But at least being a clerk is better than a saikang storeman.
“You will be working in this office, and for now you will be attached to Warrant Aileen as her PA. Ah, so besides preparing the CRO, you can help her out with the lesson plans and admin work.”
“Yes OC, I’ll move my stuff over now.”
knn, nowadays even CSM need PA. But, Warrant Aileen ah, ok that’s not too bad.
For a 19 yr old sexually frustrated and horny af NSF, any woman in camp will be turning heads. 2WO Aileen especially, if you’re into MILFs. A Chinese woman in her late 40s, probably a farmer who’s the quintessential hokkien
peng
, she exudes the sensuality some women her age do effortlessly. Her face is well maintained for her age, with big eyes, big mouth and big… well, not that big but not bad, especially for a Chinese woman. She’s not skinny for sure, but definitely not fat. I’ll say curvy, yes slightly plump and curvy, and can I just say the army pants really does
wonders
for a woman’s behind. Seeing her walk around the coyline with her beautiful behind really gets my pecker rock hard, although many of the other NSFs don’t seem to think so. Ah, these other kids only want the skinny chicks with no figure on Instagram. Oh well, more for me then.
One thing 2WO Aileen has going for her, is her skin. Her skin is so fair despite the years in the sun. Must be some high ses genetics tai tai have. There was once I saw her leading a run for the recruits in her singlet, with her porcelain skin glistening with sweat in the sun; beads of perspiration were dripping down her arms, and down her neck, and I had to look away before she caught me. Can you imagine how she’d smell and taste like? Damn it, I got
hard
that morning, probably the first time in camp involuntarily. Before all you Andy Laus out there judge me for my low standards, its army ok, when you stuck in camp 5 days a week staring at bald guys sweating in the sun, even the PRC cookhouse dishwasher makes you do a second take. With 2WO Aileen around, I’m damn sure many NSFs will have creamed their pants thinking of her in the toilet.
“Ezra, you go HQ register your ISAAC card first. Then I’ll meet you back here. Make sure you collect newspaper on your way back.”
“Yes Ma’am!”.
And I left for the HQ, where the
guniang
clerks who book out everyday made me fill up a form and told me to go back and wait till the process is complete. Of course, I took my time and took a walk around the compound; months of army training has honed my wayang skills and I made sure to “accidentally” walk into the wrong office to check out every crook and cranny of the HQ, checking out their female DXOs and regulars for any prospective fap material. I heard there was 1 DXEA in her young 20s in the finance department, but I guess I missed her. Oh well, tio 2WO Aileen’s PA lucky enough liao for today.
In between my sightseeing and the world-class efficiency of the HQ clerks in processing my card request, I realised I took more than an hour at the HQ. I even had to make up excuses claiming why I need an ISAAC card as a storeman, as there’s no headcount available for coyline clerks. No wonder we rush to wait and wait to rush, all because of these unmotivated NSFs (myself included). However, I was getting nervous as my company had a reputation for being strict, or rather, freaking cb, even with the permstaff. 2WO Aileen, as the CSM, while delectable in appearance, was a major
bitch
when it comes to issues of discipline. She chooses to stay in camp on most nights even though she was a regular and could book out every night, and the company’s discipline was always high. Rumour has it the last coyline clerk, that cb Jeremiah signed so many extras he had to keng his way out of here. One look at the guard duty roster and you can tell which company has been giving out the most extra duties. I needed to get back to the coyline before she finds my behaviour lacklustre, and hastily walked back to the coyline office. Strangely, all the recruits were gone and the coyline was totally quiet.
Shit. What if they all went outfield and forget about me. Confirm tio kan for not informing them I was held up at HQ, or for being too slow, or whatever reasons they come up with. My heart palpitated as sweat gathered behind my ears, it is not funny to get kan on a Monday morning. I called out for my other storemen but no one was around to reply me. The entire coyline was totally quiet.
You know they say in army, NSFs wear helmet cannot think? Yes, even once you take off the helmet, the proverbial “shag cannot think” moment happened to me; in my moment of panic, I forgot the the basic decor, basic rules of civilisation and simply common sense. In my moment of fear, I rushed to open the CSM’s office door without knocking.
My goodness.
2WO Aileen was in there. Wearing nothing but her army singlet and underwear, in the midst of putting on her fbts. She knew the whole company was out for the 12km route march and just as she thought no one was around, she decided to change into the pt attire without locking the door. She didn’t freak out like most women would at this point. No. She was made of sterner stuff. She didn’t even panic or show any signs of embarrassment or weakness. As she slowly shift her glance towards me, her eyes were filled with pure
anger
and she did not bother covering her legs. As a strict disciplinarian, she looked menacing, even in her underwear.
“CCB, what’s wrong with you?! Don’t know how to knock is it?! You think this is your office ah?!”
“Sorry Ma’am! I didn’t know you were…erm, inside here.”
“Don’t know?!! Don’t know then you knock lah!” At this point she seemed to cool down and put on her fbts, cursing under her breath.
“Apply one card take so long. So where’s the newspaper?”
Shit. I forgot about it.
Really shag cannot think
.
“Erm, sorry Ma’am, I forgot to take the newspaper. I can go back and take it now.”
“KNN, don’t know how to knock, forgot, forgot, forgot! Just tell me, how many extras do you think you should sign? OK never mind, I’m rushing off to run with the other School I personnel, tonight after 9pm, you come back here and give me a satisfactory reason for your actions today! If you don’t want to sign extra also can, you can do push-ups right? I also don’t want to be too harsh as this is your first mistake, I’ll give you physical punishment instead.”
“Thank you Ma’am! I’ll find you tonight.”
I like to think she didn’t catch my raging boner, although I think she might have.
Part II
The rest of the day had me panicking like a
kanchiong spider
over my predicament, with my other storemen thanking me for all the weekend COS duties I’ll probably be doing for them. Yeah, army is all about brotherhood they said, camaraderie they said. Knn, all just laughing at me. This cb Ariff even suggested I told her I should take 5 extras to “sound like a man”. It’s not a good situation to be in, knowing that even the Lao Jiao storemasn Ariff was given 3 extras before, just because he booked in an hour late after nights out.
“Eh so you saw her naked ah?” Ariff guffawed, his eyes wide with excitement.
“No la, changing only, she wearing underwear and singlet lor.” Good enough for me though.
“Wah Lau, like that only
boh hua
leh, never see her breasts also. Eh next time you want to see, must see full set mah! Haha, see Auntie half naked also sign 5 extras, you
sibei suay sia
.” Joshua is the epitome of the soldier who was dropped on his head as a baby, but time passes faster with humorous people like him around.
After being jittery the whole day and not doing much (typical day in army), with a heavy heart, I dragged my feet into the coyline office. The CSM office all the way opposite the OC office, and 2IC office. Far behind the COS desk, it was at the end of the corridor, and the door was tucked away from plain’s view to the right of the supply closet. Typical SAF, giving the worst location to the lower ranking staff, there aren’t even lights along the corridor, macam entering labyrinth like that.
I went into the CSM office at 9pm sharply. I remembered to knock this time before entering.
Even after spending the day training the company, maintaining the order of the coyline and indenting stores, remnants of her light make up still complemented her supple face. In the dim lights of her secluded office, her features were even more prominent and her luscious thick brows reinforced her intimidating yet sensual countenance. Her round face may not be popular with the younger lads nowadays, but I could never resist the seductive charm of her big crescent eyes, drawing me in with every glare. This is a MILF whose chin is not skinny and V-shaped enough to be considered pretty, yet blessed with high cheekbones and big curved eyes; whose figure will not be the envy of women, and yet will surely draw lustful glances from any men from any age. With the turning of age, this
lao chio
has probably regressed from stealing a few hearts in her youth to stealing weekends from the unfortunate NSFs under her command. Perhaps this is why she is such a major ass bitch, her fleeting beauty, stuck in a bureaucratic nightmare of an organisation has made her channel her angst towards the unwitting soldiers in her company. Her husband is either one henpecked man or one lucky son of a bitch, probably both. If Chinese superstitions are anything to go by, this lucky man is going to die young.
“So how, how many extras do you think you should sign?” Her sharp tone jolted me back to reality and yet, I could sense she was deliberately dragging the sentence, milking every moment she taunted me. As she toyed with the blue pen in her hands, I could see the sadistic smile in her eyes. The cheap Pilot blue pen seemed so powerful in her grip. She held all the cards, one swift stroke of her hand and I could be taking the wretched Saturday bus to camp for the next few weekends.
“What you did is extremely serious, I can charge you, you know? Walking into a superior officer’s room without knocking. If I escalate this to the OC ah, he confirm will charge you, you know that or not? This is sexual harassment, and I can charge you go DB.” Her words were softer this time, almost gentler, almost giving away the plan that she was not going to charge me after all, or even inform the OC. Almost as if
she
were the one who didn’t want anyone to know about this, like it’s a shameful secret
she
had to bear.
But the thought of DB was too much to bear, I could not risk going to DB damn it, and I’d do anything to get out of it. I couldn’t care less how many extra duties she’d punish me with, as long as I manage to stay out of DB, it will be worth it.’
“Ma’am, how about I sign 5 extra COS duties for it.” I wasn’t happy saying it, that’s for sure, but I’m desperate at this point.
“You think what, sign extras don’t need get charged alrdy ah? Fish market is it? Bargain for your punishment some more! Ok, I’ll give you 2 choices, we can go through the formal process, I’ll let the OC decide what to do, or we can settle this informally. What do you want?”
“Thank you Ma’am! I hope we can settle this informally.”
This glimmer of hope calmed my nerves, as I slowly realised the room was much hotter now that I’m not sweating cold sweat. WO Aileen had been here for a while and the light scent of her deodorant and pheromones permeated the stuffy room. To say it was erotic would be an understatement. I wonder how she managed to sit in this humid room all evening in her tight uniform, stretched taut and bursting at the seams. Her generous bosom was a huge distraction, as I wondered if her admin shirt and uniform was suffocating her. Was she perspiring profusely as well underneath her uniform?
“Ok informal doesn’t mean you get off scot free ok? I’ll still assign you 5 extra duties, and additional informal punishment. You boys ah, really have no discipline these days, need to be punished before you wake up your idea.”
“Thank you Ma’am!” Shit. 5 extras is damn shag. But at least that’s the end of it, last thing I want is to go to DB and this shit company almost takes pride in sending soldiers to DB.
“Ok, today will be your first punishment session. Knock it down!” She commanded and she promptly got up. I immediately got into the push up position, still shaken by the prospect of DB. She walked behind me, out of my sight and I heard the doorknob clicked. The door was locked.
WO Aileen walked back to her seat, and sat down right in front of me, and perched her boots on the ground right below my face. In usual cases I’d have found this unusual and unacceptable, but to suffer this humiliation at her feet was an absolute wet dream.
“Down!”
And I went down, still wondering why she had sat so close to me.
“Lower! You call this a proper push up?!"
She slowly inched towards me and I could feel her breath on my hair but I did not dare look up to face her. She moved her boot right underneath my face this time, with it still firmly on the ground and commanded “Make sure your head touches my boot when you go down! That’s the proper standard! Down!”
I could barely control both my boner and my arms as I tried to muster enough strength with every push up, this time touching her boots with my forehead. I couldn’t decide if this was hell or pure bliss, as I still didn’t know if she was still angry or was she just fooling around with me.
“Look at me when I talk to you.”
I arched my neck up, and the sight before me made me unsure if it was awkward or erotic. My head lay between her legs, and as she was sitting down on her armchair, I had to craned my neck even higher to avoid staring at her groin. It was a vicious predicament, my body was sore from the push ups, and yet, I had to suffer even more, all because she chose to lean in. She was at this point, also perspiring from the humidity, and her scent was overpowering. It was a delectable mix of deodorant, shampoo and had light musky notes from her sweat. Her neck was now moist and red, and the strands of hair sticking to neck only drew more attention down below, leading to a painful tug of war as I struggled to keep my eyes above her inner admin shirt.
“Ok, recover. That’s enough for today. Don’t forget, you still owe me 5 extras ah. But these ones are informal, no need to publish in CRO, I’ll tell you when to serve them.”
“Yes Ma’am!”
“So how, 5 extras fair or not, enough for you? Don’t forget, you still have to do your informal punishments at night until I’m satisfied.” She was still enjoying this, this time not even bothering to hide the smirk on her face. A lock of hair matted with sweat dangled across her forehead unwittingly.
“It’s ok Ma’am.” I said.
“Hahaha, who ask you so pervert, go barge into my room? If you think the punishment is too unfair, or feel that my informal punishment is too much for you, just let me know. I’ll let the OC know you prefer to get charged instead.”
“No Ma’am, I think this is ok.” There really was no other way about this, not with this arrangement, not especially since
more than one
of us was enjoying this.
“Ok, you say one ah, don’t forget, your offence is very serious and I’ll ramp up your punishment tomorrow. Today was just a warm-up. Anyway, if you don’t want to serve all your extras also can, just do some
favours
for me in exchange. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll remove 1 or 2 extras?” She almost smirked again as she said this, almost as if the whole point in screwing with me tonight was to entrap me to agree to her stupid favours, to volunteer to do
favours
for her. What a sadistic bitch. But I’m definitely not going to be the moron who rather have his dignity and sign extras than bend my back. I’ll gladly
pay
to bend my back if a curvy MILF in her 40s was making me do it.
“Uhh, yes Ma’am.”
Her response was another a haughty smirk, but not bratty haughty like those loudmouth AC school girls, those girls are ignorant;
lao chio
was carrying a sense of arrogance bred by years of exercising dominance over countless NSFs, her confidence backed by the knowledge she held real power over her soldiers, and in this case, me.
I left the room later that night desperately trying to hide my boner from the blur COS who was sleeping at his desk and none the wiser.
That
was enough fap material for a week at least.
Part III - Hands-on approach to discipline
“Eh how, hahahaha, you sweat so much, y’all fooling around inside is it?” Joshua asked me in the bunk.
“F off la, get kan lor, f this shit coy and shit camp.” I wasn’t going to share how much I enjoyed it, not with this big mouth of a buffoon. In fact, I couldn’t wait to go shower right now and 01 X good one with my rifle down there.
“Ok la ok la, she never make you sign extra very good alrdy eh, knn, last time Ariff and Jeremiah sneak back late after nights out, forged the sign in booklet timing right, also tio caught. Ariff sign 3 for integrity issue, Jeremiah sign 5 cos he COS. FIVE LEH brother! You never sign extra considered lucky already.”
“Uhm, yeah, not bad la, maybe cos I just replaced Jeremiah, she don’t want to scare me off lor.” Damn it, I still owed her 5 extra duties in theory, and that was no laughing matter. 5 extras is ridiculous, I know of NSFs who haven’t even signed one for the entirety of their NS. I just enlisted a few months ago and already face 5 extras. And was she joking about reducing the duties in exchange for favours? Who knows what goes on in her sadistic mind.
I almost forgot I was no longer a saikang storeman the next day, and nearly went to the store to set up the water station for the 2.4km run.
Heng ah
, no more doing menial labour in the hot sun. I promptly went to the coy office, plonking my butt down on the clerk’s chair, still using Jeremiah’s ISAAC card to access the computer. The coyline clerk area was tucked behind the COS desk, separated by a partition, giving me some privacy to use my phone in peace. Warrant Aileen was back in action, scolding some poor recruit today morning for her perceived “lack of urgency” on their part. They had to run a few more rounds around the parade square after their 2.4 run, courtesy of the sadistic woman. Needless to say, I was on my best behaviour when she entered the coy office. The scorching sun only amplified how fair and radiant her skin was, this time still moist with sweat from the morning run. I could feel the dense heat emitting from her as she walked pass my area, storming angrily towards her office. I nearly froze when she stopped abruptly beside my desk, bent down and whispered in my ears, “Ezra, report to my office tonight, shower first and come in your PT attire, but you can wear slippers.” Her hot breath sizzled in my ears, and tickled me, not just in my ear. She spoke in a commanding tone, and yet she hushed her voice to keep it out of earshot of the COS in front. I could barely muster a response before she strolled off into her office.
“knn, she damn
boliao
make us wash field equipment so early, field camp also not until Week 6.” Ariff was visibly upset about being tasked to clean and dry the stores, but if you ask me now, he’s really just being lazy. The storemen practically have nothing to do anyway. Of course, if you ask me back then, when I was a storeman, I’d agree with him.
“Oi, don’t say so loud la, later she hear u tio extra again.
Scally
she charge you for insubordination!” Joshua was way more careful, he has never got any extra duties in here, and everyone has been stepping on thin ice ever since I got in trouble yesterday.
As an honorary former storeman, I hanged out with them at the back while they hosed down the field chairs, field beds, metal hooks and whatnot, using my eye power to motivate them. Camaraderie, you know; separation of power and duties, you get the drill. It’s indeed strange to be washing and drying the field equipment this early, 2 weeks before field camp, but we’re used to seeing people with too much pay and too little brains make stupid decisions like this. But hey, at least she was rewarding all the perm staff with a nights out, with permission to book in by 10am the next day. Well, except for me, who was the unlucky COS today. Between being tortured by the prospect of serving 5 extra duties and the mindless tasks assigned to me, the rest of the day went by in a jiffy. I spent my time in the shower thinking whether she will really let me off from serving 5 extras. She could just be saying these things to mess with my head, just to give me false hope, and make me do her biddings. What a vicious and manipulative woman. But there’s no use fretting over it, much better to avoid further trouble by keeping a low profile.
The whole level 1 was quiet when I went down, all the recruits were making a din upstairs, whining and complaining about the sergeants, no doubt. The COS was surprisingly missing from his desk and the whole coy office seemed empty, as the OC and 2IC were always the first to book out at 530pm. Again, I bate my breath and walked towards the CSM office; the office almost felt cold as I was wearing just my PT attire and slippers. I see that she has already appropriated not one, but two of the field beds in her office, many people do this in the army, they take the field bed to the coyline office to sleep at night, as it is the only place with aircon. No wonder she made the store team clean the equipment today, what a great use of our nation’s limited manpower. She beckoned me into her office, where the temperature was noticeably warmer. Maybe this is why she is constantly irritable, after spending the day in the sun, she is relegated to the worst room with the weakest aircon and ventilation. She has certainly made herself comfortable amidst this stuffy atmosphere, dressed in her “singlets slack” combination. If you thought the vest slack looked sloppy, boy you have not seen the atrocious singlet slack combo on those old Enciks. Armed with high rank, seniority and the thickest skin in the world, they have no concern for their image in camp and can often be seen wearing this comical outfit around camp. It was refreshing of course to see the delectable Warrant Aileen wearing this set of clothes. With her good skin and ample figure, any outfit she wore accentuated her curves, including the ones she may not be proud of. Being a woman in her 40s, time has not been entirely kind to her and a slight hint of a belly was visible from the tight singlet she wore. She also took the liberty of removing her boots in her office, baring her olive green socks and freeing her feet from the humid prison of her boots. I could only wonder what care she took for her toes; what pedicured toes lie within those socks? She wouldn’t surprise me if she sported black pedicure, she’ll pull it off very well.
“Go close the door behind you and lock it.” It was only after I closed the door did I notice how secluded her office was; there was no one in the coy office, with the whole training team enjoying their nights out and they won’t be back till 10am tomorrow.
The tension increased as she stood up and said “So? Decide already, on which Saturdays do you want to serve your extras?” She seemed more strict than yesterday, more serious and more vindictive than ever. She was visibly tired from the day’s affair, and was not in a joking mood.
“Ma’am, uhh, I thought you said I could do some favours instead of the extras. Is that ok?” I begged, knowing I was in no position to negotiate with her.
She finally smiled.
“You say one ah. You have quite a lot of extra duties to clear, you know? You think can just
suka suka
don’t need do ah?” Her tone become a lot livelier, as her big eyes curved into two malevolent crescents. “Right now I’m thinking, for the next 5 weekends, you can do 1 Saturday duty each, book out on Sunday 8am and book back in by Sunday 8pm. Hahaha, ok or not? If not, you can be disciplined now instead, but you have to be tied to this field bed, and in exchange I’ll remove 1 extra duty. How?” She made this preposterous offer unabashedly, seemingly downplaying the gravity of serving 5 extra duties in a row to toy with my ego. My mind raced as I considered this unorthodox plan, but I’d do anything at this point to avoid serving the extras. Book out at 8am and come back by 8pm?! For 5 weeks in a row? That’s no way to go.
“Uhm, ok Ma’am, I’d do it for removing 1 extra.” “Sure or not, don’t say I force you leh.” Her actions betray her words, as she immediately reached for her locked closet, throwing 4 sets of leather cuffs on the table. Those were
definitely not
army equipment. I wondered who else was she using them on. “Ok, lie on the field bed, and extend your hands above your head. Make sure you keep your arms straight. If you don’t do it properly I’ll make sure you do the extra anyway.” My heart raced as I realised why she took 2 field beds. She’d combined them together to form an elongated bed of sorts, that could fit a person lying down with his arms extended and tied up. It was a cunning disguise, anyone else would have guessed she just wanted a longer bed to rest her legs, but this was no bed. My heart pounded as I considered my options, this was my last chance, but for what? I could not possibly turn down her demands, as that would entail 5 extra duties a rejected sadist like her would be sure to enforce. On the other hand, it’s anyone’s guess what will happen once I’m tied on the field bed. She’d be able to do
anything
to me, with no perm staff coming in to the coyline office until 10am tomorrow. I didn’t have the luxury of considering my options, and promptly obeyed her command, lying down on the bed, extending my arms up. She was quick to act too, promptly securing my ankles to the bed before I could react. Her strapping the cuffs around my ankles sent shivers up my spine and blood up my…well you know. I didn’t notice the situation down south as I was still busy wondering if I regret letting her do this. She grabbed my left wrist and made sure my left arm was extended fully before wrapping the straps around it and securing it to corner of the field bed. I had one arm left unbounded, one final autonomous part of me that could defend myself, and it was next in line. I lay frozen in apprehension as she cuffed my right wrist and pulled it way beyond my head; she smiled wryly and said “Is it tight enough?”. I writhed in surprise and tried to pull my left arm as I felt her finger scratching my vulnerable left armpit. It was unbearably ticklish and sudden, prompting an involuntary thrashing from me. However, all I could muster was a few tugging at the bonds, as the tight bondage ensured my body was securely immobilised. “Haha, lie to me ah, still can bend your elbows and knees, means not tight enough what.” She attached the right leather cuff to an even further portion of the field bed. I could only presumed she did that as my right arm was extended further up, and I could not see what she was doing with my body strapped up. The realisation that I was ticklish and vulnerable to her assaults made me nervous; my arms and legs were tied to the 4 corners of the contraption and she made sure it was very, very tight. She held the key she used to lock the cuffs up in front of me and taunted, “nah, here’s the key, if you behave well tonight, I might unlock you soon, if not you can stay here the whole night, is that clear?”. Even in my humiliating state I had to submit to her. “Yes Ma’am!”. My enthusiastic reply was rewarded with her resting her fingers on my triceps, teasing the skin of my inner arms, as she pulled her armchair right beside me. “I’m going to start disciplining you now, ok?” She posed it as a question, but there was no choosing. Using just 1 finger on each hand, she twirled and stroked her finger down my tricep right into my exposed underarms, and no amount of writhing could alleviate the agonising ticklish sensations. “Ma’am! Please, stop, ok, ok, ok, I’ll learn, I’ll..” I tried my best to plead to her, as my bounded arms were not going anywhere, and her tickling was driving me crazy. “Hahaha, but you laughing what, means you enjoy it right?” This time, all 4 of her fingers on each hand were scratching lightly at my armpits. I clenched my fists and retracted my arms as much as I can but the leather cuffs prevailed; I was genuinely powerless in her hands and was practically begging her to stop. It wasn’t all bad though, as it turned me on, her touch made me feel truly powerless in a woman’s control. Not just any woman. An
older
woman. A
milf
, whose cruelty knows no bounds.
“You are the one who chose this remember? A hands-on approach to discipline.” She smiled at me and lifted both her hands, before resting them on my chest. I thanked her profusely for granting me this brief respite from her torture, not wanting her to continue the tickling. If I fulfilled her sadistic need to humiliate me, she might be convinced to stop; I couldn’t care less for my dignity, all I want is to get myself out of this mess. I never realised how sensitive my body was and just how vulnerable I am with my arms tied up in the PT attire until this. I could definitely hear my heart pumping, pumping blood into a raging boner that I couldn’t even close my legs to hide. If not for these cuffs, I might be thrusting my rifle down a certain vicious bitch right now. “We still have a long time to play, you know, its only 915 and the rest won’t be back till 10 tomorrow.” She smirked again, raising one hand right above my right armpit, perching only one finger on the surface before making light circles at the skin. Her teasing was agonising and erotic, although she seems to be having all the erotic fun while I took most of the agony. I might have had a sexual dream like this before, but this is a nightmare I desperately wanted to get out of…
I had no idea how long she continued, or how I manage to not pass out from all that torture, but she did stop eventually. Satisfied with her work, she slumped back into her armchair, putting her feet up on her table. From this angle, one could have mistaken her for a dominatrix. Beautiful, confident, powerful and most importantly,
absolutely psychotic
. She too, had worked out a sweat and the streaks of perspiration that ran down her neck only highlighted her fair porcelain skin. She proceeded to take a drink of her water bottle as I lay helpless beside her, my rifle still standing at
sedia
.
“Ezra, why you so naughty ah? I got give you permission to get hard meh?” She teased, referring to the very obstinate tent I pitched down south. She turned her chair to face me, and lifted her legs, resting her feet on my chest.
The faint whiff of the stench from her sweaty socks hit me, and it was intoxicatingly arousing. There was no perfume or deodorant to mask her scent this time, and it was unbearably humiliating yet exciting to smell her this way. The smell was faint and yet unmistakably odorous, and scintillating, as it was hers. The most insulting part of it was I actually enjoyed it, and had to turn to my side to pretend I was annoyed by her action.
“Ezra, don’t want answer my question is it?” She was relentless. “No Ma’am, I don’t know what you are talking about” I could barely face her and talk to her with my body stretched out like this. I could also barely say that lie without dying of embarrassment, as I had no control over the raging boner barely concealed by the fbts I was wearing.
“I’m referring to this.” Her left foot made its way down my torso, right between my exposed groin area, and tuck itself right below my scrotum. I nearly chocked when she did that, my legs involuntarily retracting in response, but again, all I managed was a light tug at the restraints. Her left toes were right under my scrotum now, I could feel the warmth of her sock through my underwear and the thin fbt. I choked for real this time, as she curled her toes up, pushing into my scrotum as I lay helpless.
“Why you so naughty? You act like this in front of me, it’s considered sexual harassment you know?” “Sorry Ma’am” was all I managed between gasping for air. The sensation was too unbearable, as I have never been teased under my balls. Arousing, ticklish, unbearably pleasurable and the pains of uncontrollable writhing, those were all the things I felt as she continued curling her toes up and down. I really hope she’s not going to be fixated on this body part for the next few hours…
[to be continued…]
Part IV
“Oh Ma’am, please stop doing that, just…. stop…” my SAR21 was now engorged with blood despite it not being handled directly, in the hand, or rather foot of a weapons specialist. My willpower was no match for the dexterity of her foot, as she expertly curled her toes up and down, squeezing into my scrotum with a rhythmic vigour. My magazine was fully loaded, and I haven’t had to chance to squeeze off for days; I wouldn’t be surprised if any ND incident happened if she continued playing with dangerous weapon.
“You don’t understand me is it? Ok, let me show you.” To my horror, she jauntily placed her fingers around my fbt pants, and pulled it down as much as my outstretched legs would allow. My pants now hung loose slightly above my knees with only my underwear shielding my jewels from the cold, humid air. “I’m referring to
this
.” She pushed the tip of her manicured finger right into my scrotum; I choked for air instinctively, an involuntary reaction made worse by the tight bondage. The unyielding restraints only heightened my senses and I could feel even more tightness in my underwear, a humiliating sight I could not hide by closing my legs. All my efforts to pretend I didn’t enjoy this has come to no fruition, no thanks to the prominent lie detector down there, sticking up in the air as if it were saluting her. “Oh Ma’am, please stop touching me there, it’s too much.” I begged her to stop, as she began twirling her finger round and round, drawing concentric circles smaller and smaller, culminating in a sharp prod into my scrotum again. “Oh!” No amount of retracting my legs would protect my vulnerable parts from her assault, not with the leather cuffs locking my ankles in place. She shot me a naughty glance and went, “So horny, you got masturbate in camp or not?” I thought I could not get any harder, until she said that word.
I might have had an ND accident had not for my willpower.
“Hahaha, look at your reaction, confirm got right. You know it’s an offence, right? To do that in camp.” She went from a playful teasing mistress to a stern interrogatory policewoman, almost admonishing me, her finger still on my trigger. “No Ma’am, I never.” Another lie. Of course, I did it before, but not this week, as I was way too stressed over getting in trouble. If only I’d checked clear this week, I’ll be less reactive to her antics now; my barrel is been loaded and her finger was the firing pin.
To my surprise, she got up and sauntered to her cabinet. A brief respite is good, I had to remind myself to breathe, as the sexual tension was too much to bear. The tension in my arms too, was starting to build up. She placed the key holding my freedom on my chest, taunting me as if she were letting me go, and retrieved a ruler from her desk. She sat back into her armchair, pulling it in closer right by my hip and tapped the wooden ruler right on my scrotum. “Fuck!” I instinctively called out, ignoring the décor. While it was a light tap, it was on my precious jewels that were already engorged with blood. I realised my
faux paus
and apologised, “Sorry Ma’am! Please don’t do that, it hurts.” I had to beg no matter how futile it seems. “That’s for lying.” She stared daggers into my eyes, her crescent eyes now vicious yet mischievous. “I ask again ah, you got masturbate in camp?” This no laughing matter, I had to fess up. “Sometimes Ma’am.” I whimpered softly, closing my eyes in fear. “Ahh, still lie just now, it’s 2 offences now, one for lying and one for masturbating in camp.” Her tone was playful now, but her hand showed no mercy. Another swat of the ruler at a strategic spot made me retract all my limbs in pain; I was panting in utter agony, fear and arousal that made my balls even more sensitive. In full view of me, she placed the wooden ruler right at the same spot, slowly using her other hand to pull the one end of the ruler back. Like a catapult being pulled back, she could snap the elastic ruler at me any moment. I was struggling at my bonds in trepidation, fearing she will do the inevitable. “Haha, should I?” She teased again, smiling mischievously. Her hair matted with sweat, face red with lust; she was clearly simulated tonight. A pair of voluptuous breasts was accentuated further by her tight singlet; I could barely focus my eyes on her face with those beautiful distractions around. The aesthetic pleasure before me did not change my predicament, and the sadistic bitch did it again. “Fuck!” I felt the ruler smack me right in the most sensitive region again, this time harder than before. I coughed instinctively, my face contorting in pain; the agony was too much to bear and the suffering was beginning to null my pleasure. It certainly didn’t null her pleasure, given how much she laughed as I writhed in pain. This sadistic punishment was leagues beyond her usual bitchy routine; no amount of scolding, informal or physical punishments could give her the erotic pleasure and power she felt in torturing a man in his most precious area. She definitely got off exploiting me in my most vulnerable regions and she knew I could do nothing to stop her. The psychological torture of experiencing excruciating pain and yet know I will be helpless when she strikes again was too much for me. At this moment, I’d do anything to get her to stop, no matter how much humiliation she wished to put me through. I’d do anything or say anything she wants, just to get a little break from that wretched ruler.
“That’s for lying to your superior. So how many times you masturbate already?” Another question I could not afford to skirt around.
“Uhm, maybe once or twice?” I wished she’d stop messing with me.
“Ok, you need to be punished because you are so naughty! Who says you can do that in camp? From now on you cannot do that without my permission, ok?” She fondled my bruised scrotum gently now, massaging the testicles in her palm. The rhythmic squeezing from her fingers was well received, my rifle once again back at
sedia
. Even as she toyed with it incessantly, she held power over me, as my jewels were vulnerable in her strong clutch. “Yes Ma’am! I won’t do it from now on.” I played along, wishing her sadistic phase was over now. “No, I never say cannot do, you don’t lie, you confirm cannot
tahan
one. I said must ask me for permission when you want to do it, that’s all”. She smiled seductively and gave a light squeeze, which jolt me back to attention. “Yes Ma’am!” “Ok, now you must be punished for the unauthorised masturbation last time.” Shit. The ruler was back in her hands, she gave it a lick and then held it against my scrotum. It danced along the surface of my underwear, before settling on the old spot, a most vulnerable region right between my balls. “Ready?” I was furiously tugging at the leather cuffs, hoping to pull in my legs, my arms, anything just to protect myself. As my physical efforts were futile, I resorted to words. “Ma’am please! Don’t, don’t, don’t, I’m sorry I won’t do it again without your permission next time! Just don’t punish me now!”
“Hmm, let me think about it.” Her actions proved her words were lies, as she slowly pulled back one end of the ruler again with one finger, her mouth beaming. “No.” Her beautiful big crescent eyes winked mischievously as she let go of the finger. The ruler went straight for the goal again, sending me into spasms of pain the restraints only seemed to amplify. I grunted in agonizing pain; it seemed to amuse her as she moaned in ecstasy. “Aww, painful ah?” She gave my sore balls another sharp flick with her middle finger, provoking another grunt from me. The blow landed squarely on my left testicle this time, which was already in pain and I thrashed my limbs desperately in vain. “Ahh, Ma’am, it’s too much, it’s too much! Please stop! I’d do anything you want!” She smiled again and massaged my sore parts with her fingers. In the span of seconds, she’d sent me back and forth between hell and heaven, fondling my testicles with vigour. As stimulating as it is, I did not want any more of this, as I knew she’d soon move on to her sadistic phase again. She sensed my apprehension and stopped her kneading. “You sure you’d do anything I say?”
“Yes Ma’am, I really will, please stop punishing me! I can’t take much more!”
She walked behind me where I couldn’t see her and seem to sat down on the ample place on the bed. I could only guess what she was doing as the sounds of her soft moans permeated the room. In the privacy of her locked room, in an empty coyline office, on a level no recruits had any business being around, she was moaning and grunting with no holding back. Her domination over my body and mind had sated her sadistic desires that had been neglected for too long; she now moaned with great ecstasy knowing she could toy with me at ease.
She placed her feet around my head, tucked between my outstretched arms. The stench was now overbearing; I could smell feel the warmth by my ears and taste the pungent stale sweat in my mouth. I nearly gasp initially, reeling from the shock it gave me. Previously, the smell was odorous but light; this close to her feet, the fumes were heavy and intoxicating. Even after airing her feet all this while, the build-up of sweat stewing in her humid boots the entire day was still emitting from her socks. Beyond the smell, I could taste the sweat at the back of my throat. This was an utter humiliation. Even in the act of breathing she exercised complete domination; I was consciously aware of my breathing and every breath I took was more of her essence inside of me. I could choose not to submit but what could I realistically do, hold my breath and not breathe? The illusion of choice only made it more humiliating, as I was forced to choose to smell her moist socks indirectly, given my predicament.
“Ezra, you ok or not? Not falling asleep right?” She playfully teased my ear with her toes. She didn’t seem too bothered when I did not respond; she must have been too busy pleasuring herself. “You want out or not, or enjoy too much already?” She taunted again.
“Oh Ma’am, please let me out.”
“Ok, kiss my foot first.” She laughed as she said this, knowing how disgusting her request was. I was in no position to care for my dignity, my comfort or how insulting it was. To challenge her at her own game will be suicidal for my poor, sore balls. I promptly tilted my head to my right and gave her right foot a gentle kiss. I could taste the stale, briny sweat on her sock as I planted my lips on the olive-green material. The aroma overwhelmed my olfactory glands; I couldn’t decide if the smell was horrible or the finest odour I’ve ever encountered. This act of submission aroused me further and jolted my member right back at attention. If I was thinking with my little head, I’d almost wished she continued our session.
“Mmmmm, very good, good boy.” She was all too pleased with my submission and retracted her legs. She took the keys and uncuffed my restraints. Is this for real? It seemed she’d gotten her high from the session and had enough fap material from tonight for her purposes. I guess even she knew when to stop.
“Ok la, I’ll remove 1 extra duty from your punishment. But don’t think I don’t know you always
beo
the
zhabors
from platoon 1.” It seems my ogling at the female soldiers had not gone unnoticed. Of course I looked. What else am I suppose to look at, the male recruits running up and down like dogs? The storemen who were as
dulan
as me? I’m a man with blood in my loins, of course my eyes wander if there are pretty flowers.
“Erm, no Ma’am, I never.” I felt more comfortable lying now that my jewels were not in her hands.
“Hahaha, you so pervert one, confirm got. Ok, tomorrow afternoon when I lead them for training you come with me. See if you get hard. Anyway their discipline getting worse and worse, really must
tekan
them. And one more thing, don’t masturbate without my permission ah!”
The female recruits were assigned to our company as we were the only company with a female CSM. The logic was that a female superior commander will be better able to take care of the female soldiers. What an irony. The sadistic Warrant Aileen was probably going to be exceptionally harsh on them tomorrow, just to see if
I
enjoyed their suffering as much as her. I wonder what she will put them through; her power over these recruits were immense, as recommendations for the female regulars were important for their careers.
As I left the platoon office that night, I couldn’t decide which was the better fap material, my adventure with Warrant Aileen or the show tomorrow she was going to play for me. Maybe I really should wait till tomorrow before I check clear.
Part V
Thursday meant 1 last day before bookout day and we were in a good mood as we strolled to the cookhouse. We took a quick glance at the cookhouse lunch before deciding we didn’t want to deprive the recruits of their lunch; after all, they are the ones training, they need it more than us. Every day’s cookhouse food had a different look; it was sporting the ‘go canteen eat lunch’ kind of look today. We decided to saunter to the famous Nasi Lemak stall to enjoy our leisurely 2h lunch. After all, it was only 1130am and the next activity won’t start until 2pm. Between mouthfuls, Joshua asked, “Hey Ezra, shag or not? COS yesterday alone” Shag would be an apt term. I wondered if it was more shag for her or me. “Ok lor, used to it already. Army mah, must endure hardship”. I boasted, thumping my chest with pride. “Wah wah wah, eh you PTE only leh, not
occifer
, don’t need
wayang
leh!” Joshua was laughing to tears at my sudden patriotism. “What’s a little hardship for our motherland?” I continued playing along, thinking of my hardships yesterday. “This guy do COS until he siao already.” Ariff joined in. It’s times like this I could finally relax amidst the tense atmosphere back at the coyline. Times where I genuinely enjoyed the people here, of course there were other times I enjoyed it more, but I wouldn’t spoil a good thing by telling these buffoons anything.
230pm, at the stadium track. The sun was scorching and I could feel the heat radiating from the pavement. I swear I heard the code black siren a while ago but of course in our company, they say there’s no such thing called code black when you fight a war. “Platoon 1, you call this proper push ups?!”
Lao chio
was back in business, her rage probably stroked by seeing some of the
xiao chios
around here. There was probably some kind of rare female power dynamic here, where an attractive older woman feels compelled to put down her younger, virile competitors. Otherwise there was no reason for her to single out the female platoon to stay back after the PT session, and began to punish them for another one of her “general discipline” issues. Or maybe it’s because she was doing this for me, as there was no reason a coyline clerk instead of the storemen was manning the water station at the stadium. “Your discipline is getting worse and worse ah, don’t think I never notice! Some of you even like to bitch about this company right, don’t think I don’t know!” The female recruits were struggling to hold their push up position, Warrant Aileen insisted they do the same push ups as the male recruits, and some of the girls could barely keep their backs straight. Their faces were dripping with sweat and the singlets were clearly a shade darker from the sweat stains, but lao chio had only just begun.
“Want to act like bitches right?! Knn I’ll treat you all like bitches if you all want! Down!” she barked. She turned around and out of vision of the platoon, she shot me a mischievous smile. She curled her finger towards herself, beckoning me to go closer. Just within my earshot, she whispered, “Shiok, or not? I tekan them like that. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it leh.” I went red with embarrassment as if she knew my shameful secret. I thought I enjoyed looking at the female soldiers as they were girls, but to see them in this plight, punished this way, it was
different
.
Their backs were straining against the stress, desperately waiting for mercy from their commander and they were in no position to decide their fate. I could imagine how attractive some of these girls would look given their usual getup, and to see a platoon of brats stripped of their usual hairdo and make-up suffer this predicament, was exhilarating to say the least. Recalling from my nominal roll, and nights of utter boredom where us horny and deprived permstaff spent our time checking up on their background, I knew that some of these fair, porcelain dolls came from reputable JC. A few of the sportier chicks were from ACJC, that madhouse of a school pumping out sluts and bimbo loudmouths faster than any nightclub could. Well, many of them did look the part: tanned, toned, birdbrained and putting those muscles to work. On the second row were a few ambitious no-nonsense types from RJC, probably here to earn their overseas scholarships and
wayang
in front of the PSC review board; bespectacled no doubt but like they say, in army, even a sow could turn heads. If they were going to waste us taxpayers’ money on their universities, at least I had the front row seat to get back my money’s worth. The VJC alumna at the extreme right didn’t look so glamorous anymore, a sharp contrast from her Instagram profile picture where she was posing like a high ses social escort passing for a socialite, beaming as she held a glass of wine at a club she definitely didn’t belong. These social climbing try-hards turned me on the most, and I definitely relish in seeing these brats being sorted out; to see these spoil princesses as they struggle uncomfortably with the aching muscles, the back of their singlets dripping with perspiration, smelling like the rest of the soldiers and endure humiliation at the hands of our very capable CSM.
Of course, there were the polytechnic graduates, or farmers, as they’re known in the SAF. They made up the majority of the female cohort, and were in my opinion, the biggest wildcards around. They possessed the best attitude and better physique, as they were here for the long haul, in the army. You could encounter a
chao ah lian
with the perkiest body, who will wear her fbts higher and higher and will always be chatting up some 19-year old sergeants who were as horny and easily manipulated like I was. Or you could also meet a thick butch, whose arms were even bigger than mine, and sported shorter hair than me; some of the more attractive butches sometimes remind of the Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones. But all that muscle didn’t intimidate me one bit, especially when they were used to do Buddha claps in front me.
“Did I say you can put your arms down?!” Warrant Aileen screamed again, her voice booming across the stadium. It was apparent she’d noticed my little flag raising and was putting on a world class performance for me. “You will do the Buddha claps in counts of 1, and 2. At 1, you will lift them up straight, and at 2, you will lower them to be 90 degrees above your sides, is that clear!” She was done making them do push-ups and seemed to found her new favourite exercise.
“1!” The soldiers lifted their aching arms up straight, and the sweat stains underneath the armhole of their singlet were in full public view. Many of them were noticeably embarrassed, especially with a male spectator around. For some of them, exercising was a glamorous pursuit, preferably done in Lemon Lulus and in the comfort of an
atas
air-conditioned gym. To swap their make-up and yoga tights for the bare army singlet was already a culture shock, and being ogled by me probably made it worse for them. Then again, many of these career soldiers were going to be spending the country’s dough on their university education or substantial sign-on bonuses anyway. On behalf of other Singaporeans, I was taking my money’s worth at the front row seat.
Pei Jun, one of the diploma holders from SP, had noticed my eyes were wandering on her. Despite her feminine Chinese name, she looked the quintessential butch. Her hair were so short they were almost spiky, and one could almost mistake her for a guy from the back, if not for her narrower shoulders. Her arms were bigger than mine, though they were less lean; for a girl she had ample delts and triceps which gave bulk to her strong arms. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were heavier than me, as her legs were every bit as stocky as her arms. The good news was that her bosom was as generous as the rest of her body, and her more than exceptional D cup breasts had my attention. She caught me looking but I did not look away instinctively. I continued to savour her delectable perky breasts which were seemingly begging to be released from the tight confines of her singlet; these heavyweights were probably wrapped in a sweaty, stuffy sports bra and deserved to be set free. She realised I was not averting her glance and she was helpless to my ogling, as her only option was to hold her arms up submissively, obeying the command of the CSM. I was getting hard as she averted her glance from me when she realised I was not looking away; the domination over her, the embarrassment she suffered and predicament she could not escape made me hard. With her body drenched in perspiration, arms held high up in the air, it didn’t take a far stretch of imagination for me to fantasise her in bondage.
“2!” The recruits let out a collective groan, finally able to let their sore arms down, but not completely relaxed as they still had to hold it up at their sides. “1!” More than 40 pairs of arms shot up again in unison. Pei Jun was probably shy from baring her armpits like that and was trying to avert my eyes. All the muscles in her body was helpless against my onslaught, as my eyes feasted on her taut body; she stretched her arms up in the air and struggled to maintain her dignity despite her vulnerable posture, almost as if she were a prisoner preparing her body for an inspection. She turned her head to face Warrant Aileen, desperately refusing to give me the satisfaction of watching her squirm. Her defiance only stroked my ego further, and I was motivated to tease her more. I began scrutinising her shaved underarms intensely, as it was clear she was irritated at my shameless ogling at this exposed part of her body. Her armpits were just a shade darker than the surrounding skin and devoid of any stubble; it was a moist surface filled with little folds of skin like ravines down a forest, marred with the occasional cuts sustained from shaving with a blunt razor. I was more amazed how she managed to find the time and energy to shave her underarms so cleanly as it was not a smooth surface to work with. Despite her toned physique, it appears she still puts in much effort into maintaining this little refuge of femininity; she may appear tough and rugged but even she was bound by society’s expectations of a woman. I almost burst out laughing thinking how ridiculous it will be for this Amazon of a woman to be filling out her range card in the morning and be concerned whether she had left out any stubbles as she shaved her underarms at night. She was now sweating profusely, and the dark green sweat stains under her arms were quite a spectacle, especially since she had to lock her arms in place even though she knew I was looking. Beads of perspiration ran down every corner of her body, from her face, into her neck, into a moist valley I did not have the fortune to see.
“2!” As the platoon got in position 2, their armpits were scrunched into fleshy folds, and the dark wrinkles seemed to shoot a lovely smile at me. From the side, I could see a hint of some of their sports bra peeking through their armholes, and these were all the standard black colour allowed by the army. I would not make any objections to its commonness however. Being able to peek at some of their sports bra was an experience most men would pay for; the more petite and flat girls could be wearing sports bra with thinner straps, made with lighter materials, while the bigger girls would require a more heavy-duty support with thicker straps around their back. Even if it were all the same colour, the wearer made all the difference. Even a hint of black fabric underneath the arms of a beauty was enough to drive me mad with lust as I imagined what lies inside, and the fact you could never see as much as you wanted to drove me absolutely bollocks. It was at this moment I decide to spare Pei Jun some shreds of dignity and move on to another target. Coolidge effect after all, was a thing.
I pretended to walk to the other end of the platoon to collect the safety cones, this time focusing on a certain Cheng Ying, a bespectacled girl who was clearly out of her element. Cheng Ying hailed from RJC, and judging from her A level results, I wouldn’t be surprised if she were gunning for the SAF Medical Officer Scholarship, which was another channel to waste taxpayers’ money to produce aloof idiots who pretend to care about the rest of us. As part of the wayang package, these girls would sign on to SAF, get admitted to OCS and use this as their credentials to prove how patriotic and therefore deserving they were, to give the rest of us the privilege, the great privilege of paying for their university education at medical school and an officer’s pay while they were studying. If they failed to get the scholarship, they would be sure to resign from SAF and matriculate for university just in time with the rest of the female cohort, their patriotism seemingly vanishing as if it never existed. It was bye bye male cadets, bye bye the rest of you conscripts; the country’s defence can rely on you while us girls continue with our lives. I found these people to be the most despicable, as the honoured institution of soldiering was being corrupted by these careerists who had nary a care for the greater good but benefitted the most from us all. I am not the most garang soldier but at least I do not claim to be, and try to get a stipend while doing so. I could barely stand these parasites, and all their talks of service, sacrifice and duty to the country sickened me. Now was the only time to get back at them, while these so-called patriots were trying to outdo each other in how
wayang
they could be, and how much hardship they could endure.
Cheng Ying was obviously not expecting to find herself in this situation, with her entire singlet soaked in perspiration, sticking to her back. With a name like Cheng Ying, she could have come from PRC at a young age, although I could not tell from her face. Joshua once told me a coarse figure of expression, spoken in dialect of course, along the lines of how women of a certain nationality had better tasting pastries. I have not tasted any pastries of hers, but from what I can see, I tend to agree with the wisdom of the saying. Despite the intense sun beating down on them every day, Cheng Ying’s skin was still fair although she had some acne. It was a sharp contrast from most of the girls who were already a few tones darker since they enlisted. I could guess from her expression she was harbouring some serious resentment towards the CSM, as a privileged sheltered girl like her had probably never been subdue to such harsh punishment. Still, being an overachieving ambitious type, she knew she had to pay full obedience to military orders as this
wayang
was for her career; she kept her head low and her arms high.
I placed a cone right beside her and pretended to use my phone as naturally as possible, my eyes enjoying the amazing scenery from my peripheral vision. Her breasts were smaller than Pei Jun’s, but it rested on a more petite and feminine frame. If Pei Jun’s almost vulgar-sized breasts were overcompensating for a femininity she lacked in her mannerisms, Cheng Ying’s twins were the perfect expression of the female beauty. She was not plump by any means but neither was she skinny, especially when her fleshy thighs and calves came into question. It was an archetype of the female form where her body fats were distributed evenly across a pear-shaped body, with a slight concentration on her chest that contributed to her slightly slouching. Even so, her breasts did not protrude tightly from her singlet unlike Pei Jun’s, and but these pair of troublemakers stood out on her, especially when half the platoon did not have much luck with their genetics. Joshua used to remark any local girl with decent looks was surely an “airport runway”, while the girls who weren’t lookers had massive racks; a telling sign that the world was fair sometimes. His
lupsup
wisdom had some truth in this case, as Cheng Ying looked just a little better than Pei Jun, as her face was more feminine albeit the acne was a flaw she could not hide; looking across the row, many of the flatter girls were indeed much better looking. Pei Jun’s look was average and she was uncomfortable with being feminine; had it not been for her jugs, I wouldn’t even have noticed her.
Cheng Ying noticed I was staring intensely on her, and she darted a quick glare at me, before looking back in front. Oh, a challenge. I wouldn’t be surprised if this RJC brat was one of those feminists who’d object vehemently to my blatant “eye-rape” of her body, and would probably spend her time complaining online about misogyny in society like an airhead. This is the kind of feminist RJC has cultivated, a bunch of morons stuck in their ivory tower ranting about inequality when far greater injustices like gender-discriminatory conscription stares at them in the face. Have a company’s board be made up of 40% women and she’ll go screeching about patriarchy but no amount of male suicides will bother her. I was more than happy to accept her challenge, and lingered my eyes along the edges of her breasts, looking intently for that irresistible raisin. What was she going to do, drowned me in verbose insults in her head? The thought of teasing someone so intelligent and stubbornly proud amused me, and I inched closer to her. Her response was to raise her arms obediently as the command “1’ reverberated across the stadium. I knew she was livid, but her expression was calm. This was a world class actress, who had a wealth of experience fooling scholarship boards, school interviewers, army commanders and anyone she needed to. There was no way she’ll betray her emotions in front of Warrant Aileen, lest it affect her chances of getting into OCS. I was surprised to get a bigger reaction out of Pei Jun, who got embarrassed when I ogled at her underarms; Cheng Ying refused to yield, her calm countenance refusing to show any signs of embarrassment.
It has been a good 10 minutes and the disciplinarian was still livid. Cheng Ying looked downright miserable holding her arms up in the air, her wet singlet sticking to her body. I could see her perspiration trickle down from her elbows, down into the hollows of her moist armpits and the fleshy folds of the skin glistened in the sun. Again, this girl was doing a remarkably good job shaving in camp as there was absolutely no stubble along the wrinkles of her underarms. Although her arms were smaller, her armpits were considerably fleshier, and almost protruded slightly when she held her arms up. It resembled a flat water bag glued to her arm, demarcated by the rough texture of the surface. I could only imagine how it tasted like, especially when seasoned with her perspiration for hours in the sun. Its complexion was far whiter than Pei Jun’s but Cheng Ying was much fairer too. Again, the thought that such a career driven girl who probably has some radical ideas about feminism would be desperately shaving her armpits in camp tickled me. My eyes wandered further south and found my beloved treasure: a glimpse of her sports bra peeking from her singlet’s armhole. My mind wandered along and I almost missed Warrant Aileen’s booming voice as she concluded her punishment session.
Looking at them march back to the coyline in tandem, I could well imagine these condescending highbrow girls in their heels, pretending to live the high life and acting all posh and fancy out there. In here before me, they were no more than a bunch of disgruntled recruits barely 1 month into BMT; perspiration replaced their daily eyeliners, camo cream were their BB cream and OOTDs to them now meant smart 4, long 4 and my personal favourite, PT attire. Walking back to the coyline, Warrant Aileen whispered in my ear, “Eh, today you stare until very shiok ah? Later go tell me who I should punish more, tonight I call her in and tekan her more.”
Warrant Aileen clearly enjoyed having a spectator like me, and I now face a momentous decision. While all these brats deserved more punishment, Pei Jun and Cheng Ying both deserved a specialised session with our CSM, and I was spoilt for choice.
Welcoming readers’ suggestions now!
Pei Jun or Cheng Ying?
The next part, possibly by this weekend, will incorporate the more popular choice!
Part VI
Cheng Ying was panicking now. Her chances of getting into command school was at stake. Her chances of getting that elusive scholarship was at stake. Her chances of securing a stable, well-paying job that would make her the envy of her peers was at stake. What would she tell her friends at their high school reunion dinners from now on? At least that was what she thought, after the CSM pulled her to the side and had a quick word with her. She was admonished for her “attitude problem” and instructed to head down to the CSM office for a
performance review
after night lessons.
The ambitious go-getter was panicking like a recruit being screamed at for the first time. All along, she thought she knew everything, and her destiny were in her hands; she knew nothing of what’s to come. Perhaps for the first time, she genuinely felt like a recruit being screwed hapless by the corrupted system, not knowing when the suffering will end. She felt less like a career soldier cruising through, with full knowledge this was the last time she had to
chiong sua
and could no longer hide her nervousness. Was her
wayang
not good enough to deceive the CSM? Or were the regulars all hell bent of torturing her, just because of her background? She had no idea she was being chosen by me, all because I couldn’t stand the sight of an entitled potential scholar like her, and chose to punish her instead of Pei Jun. Of course, her petite body had also helped her candidacy.
“Good evening Sergeant! I’m here to look for Warrant Aileen.” It was late at night and the COS, Sergeant Benjamin was already making good use of the computer with the Internet. “Oh, her office is down there. Carry on.” He couldn’t care less about Cheng Ying as he was engrossed in his gaming videos. That buffoon. No wonder he’s an infantry sergeant, destined for a life of
chiong sua
, with no interests in life beyond surfing Instagram and mobile games.
Cheng Ying walked with trepidation towards the office, as I looked on from the coyline clerk’s desk, my eyes fixated on her perky butt. She was wearing her PT attire as instructed and her butt cheeks were peeking out of her fbts – two yellow-ish white melons bouncing up and down as she walked. Was the army fbt always this short or do these girls just manage to wear it like this all the time? Surely, they knew what they were doing and deserved to be spank just for teasing the rest of us like that. I couldn’t imagine a rabid feminist like her making good use of her assets like this, but perhaps she never held those values close to her heart, and wouldn’t be above using her body this way. A moment after she went into the CSM office, Warrant Aileen and her walked out. Warrant Aileen went right by me, and said, “Follow me to the store, need your help to count the stores. I got a recruit to help us with it.”
Of course, sending a clerk to count stores when we have two lazy storemen resting upstairs, playing with their phones and possibly themselves while here I am, preparing the CRO for tomorrow. Typical SAF logic. As she raised her eyebrow at me, I realised it was a cover for the gullible COS who’d be manning the coy office alone. What fiendish activity had she planned for us? Was I going to be involved in her punishment session? “Yes Ma’am.” I promptly left my seat and tried to hide the stiffy downstairs by walking right in front, leading the way to the store.
Cheng Ying was behind us out of earshot as Warrant Aileen whispered into my ears, “You still have 4 more extra duties, remember? If you do well tonight, I’ll remove another one.” Damn it. She was still using the extra duties against me, but with Cheng Ying in the picture, I was looking forward to it. Right as I opened the storeroom, Pei Jun fumbled down the stairs, and apologised profusely to Warrant Aileen for coming down late. It was now 9:04pm and the CSM expected punctuality. “Sorry Ma’am, I only know about this just now, when my buddy told me.”
“What bs is this?! I told Cheng Ying to ask
both
of you to come down at 9pm. I told her right long before dinner. Cheng Ying, did you inform Pei Jun?” Warrant Aileen was having none of her pathetic excuse, and it seems she was getting ready for some heavy punishment.
Ma’am, I informed her buddy before dinner too!” Cheng Ying said it with such innocence one’d almost believe her, if you didn’t know anything about the likes of her. To say that she was so ruthless she wouldn’t care less about her peers would be false, she definitely took pride in hoping they fail, and I won’t be surprised if she played a proactive role either.
“Ma’am, I really just heard about it right after I finish the night lessons.” Pei Jun protested, but even she wasn’t sure if it was her buddy or Cheng Ying who’d
sabo’ed
her. She may not be sure, but there was no question about it. An insidious scholar-type like Cheng Ying would plan her every move, and when she thought that her and Pei Jun were in trouble, she probably figured the best move for her was to make someone else look even worse. Camaraderie in the army, they said. Nice.
“I don’t care who fucked up, you don’t treat this seriously, never mind, you’ll be punished for this as well.” Warrant Aileen was actually glad she now had another excuse to torture her. She strolled into the damp storeroom and turned on the lights and fans, before sitting down at the CQ desk. “Ezra, go shut the gate and close the door.” I shut the doors of the store, leaving all 4 of us in the hot, humid store, with all the privacy in the world behind the sturdy soundproof doors.
“Do you know why I asked you to come down? Your attitude up till now has been disappointing, especially as regulars! Not interested in army is it? Not interested tell me, I’ll tell the OC and put you two out-of-course!” She barked at them, her neck red with intensity.
“No Ma’am!” They both whimpered. Messing with their careers was a wise choice. Warrant Aileen certainly knew what she was doing. One was on her way to a prestigious scholarship and she desperately needed a positive appraisal of her
patriotic
attitude to get ahead, while the other needed this as her rice bowl, and probably had little alternatives out there. To receive any form of negative feedback so early into their venture would be damning for them.
“Why should I give you the chance? Both of you have always been trying to do as little as possible, think I don’t know? Do physical activity always give up, go outfield complain like bitches, you think resort ah?! Its either you take an informal punishment tonight or I speak to the OC tomorrow and put both of you out-of-course!” Finally, she said her piece and my member jolt back to life.
“Ma’am, we take the punishment!” They both whimpered again, sweat dripping off her chins this time. Tension hung tight in the squalid storeroom, with two very anxious recruits and two very excited perm staff sharing the same warm humid evening air. Warrant Aileen made her lewd requests again, this time requesting they be tied up with their hands cuffed to a pole, their hands extending high up above their heads. The recruits were understandable taken aback by her idea of an informal punishment but with their careers at stake, they complied reluctantly.
The only way to deal with their hesitation was to be quick, in case they change their minds. I went straight for Cheng Ying instinctively. Quick binds around it. Quick knots where all sorts of accessories once lay around her petite wrists. I almost pitied her this time round, as she no longer resembled the manipulative little shit she was, but a poor frightened girl being bullied by her domineering CSM.
The cane swished across the hot dense air of the room. It met with a surface of soft, fair skin, its impact reverberating through her butt. “Ah!” Pei Jun screamed, her legs reeling in spasms and shock. Warrant Aileen had decided that as she was late, she’ll use her for a demonstration. She laughed as Pei Jun struggled with the pain, and tussled in her restraints. She arched her body forward to try to ease the pain; she tip toed to give herself some room to wriggle, as she was fully stretched tight in her bonds. My erection grew more profound and even
it
was arching forward.
“Ezra, you take the other cane and stand behind Cheng Ying, later just do what I do. Pull down her pants first, don’t hit them on the legs later.” I nearly creamed my pants when I heard the command to pull her pants down. Cheng Ying dared not turned around as she was probably too embarrassed to face me. I inched closely towards her, my nose up against her svelte back. From the small of her neck, her scent was mild and feminine. An arousing mixture of her shampoo, soap, sweat and deodorant tickled my nose, and I lingered there, breathing down onto her. I took my time with my orders, placing one hand on her soft, slender back. I could feel the thin backstrap of her sports bra through her soft fabric of her singlet, forming a ridge along her otherwise smooth back. She realized how close I was but refused to budge an inch. She was too proud to betray any signs of discomfort, to release her anger at her dignity being compromised this way and to be felt up by a stranger that had earlier humiliated her when she was vulnerable. I inched even closer, this time with my lower body and pushed my pelvis straight into her butt as discreetly as possible. She felt my member prodding her and instinctively tried to arch forward. That little moment where I briefly felt her soft buttocks was heavenly, but I had to stop myself before all my blood was drained from my head. I still had a task to complete and the CSM was waiting. This was yet another humiliation she could not escape. I could see she was pulling at her her cuffs tightly but her frail little arms were no match for the sturdy leather cuffs. Her breathing stopped as she felt my cold fingers inched into her fbts, a warm refuge any boy would be dying to get into. She could find no comfort with how gentle I was, as she dreaded the inevitable humiliation. As her pants came down, she instinctively winced and kept her head down, no longer bothering to hide her shame. A loose pair of white satin underwear wrapped around her round butt cheeks greeted me. I’d have love to go further, and stick a finger beneath those tantalizing satin, but the CSM was still around and just getting started.
Part VII
“Ezra, we’re going to cane them on their butts, I don’t want to see any cane marks on their legs. I’ll demonstrate first.” Pei Jun winced again, clenching her body and funny enough, I saw her butt clench itself. I didn’t whether to laugh or to get hard at the sight of her buns clenching itself, but I could only control my laughter.
The next stroke of the cane tapped against her butt and Pei Jun jumped up in pain. With her ankles tied together, she could barely jump but she tried anyways. Her muscular frame danced in the damp light, jolting back to life whenever a stroke landed on her butt. She would be flexing her thighs as hard as she could one moment, and relaxed them next; these futile attempts in resisting the punishing cane made for an entertaining sight. The perspiration on her iron buns made them glisten under the soft light, and they heaved up and down as she breathed heavily. I walked to the front of them to get a better view and Cheng Ying was watching in trepidation. I couldn’t tell if this was another false front, as the
healthy competition
between them had not started and this was just the appetizer for Pei Jun. She could be secretly delighted that her competition was being subjected to this treatment, all thanks to her crafty action, no doubt. Glancing across the room, Pei Jun was beginning to regret coming down late. Her chest was heaving up and down as she breathed heavily; her two obscenely large breasts would have been bouncing with vigor if not for her tight-fitting sports bra. Her singlet and sports bra wrapped her breasts up like a bag of present, a bag of presents before me that swung up with every stroke of the cane.
“Mnmppghh!” She tried her best to dumb down the pain but the CSM was relentless.
“Ok, Ezra you can start canning her now. From now on we continue until one of them gives up. If either of them gives up, we will stop the punishment. The loser will be tied up for another 2 hours as a penalty and the winner will receive a recommendation from me.”
Cheng Ying’s tensed up as she readied herself for me. I held the cane in my hand and stroked her cute little butt with it, imagining how good it will feel if it were my fingers tracing her ass instead.
She could never prepare herself for the sharp sting of the cane. She yelled out in pain as soon as the stroke landed, no longer bothering to conceal her raw emotions. Her face flushed red and accentuated her luscious blush. I leaned in again, planting my face right on her sore shoulders, breathing down on it. Drawing her pheromones inside me with every breath.
Cheng Ying screamed again, reeling in rage and pain from the tough caning I was giving her. While I spared no effort making sure it hurts, I limited myself to using just my forearm and wrist. She was still a petite little girl and deserves some pity. I timed my strokes slowly, spacing them out so she could gather her strength, and I could enjoy the spectacle, and watch her tremble with anticipation before delivering the next stroke.
Pei Jun was doing much better on the other side, she seemed to have gotten use to the cane, and was no longer struggling madly. She was made of sturdier stuff and her bulky body could take it better. At this rate, Cheng Ying was going to lose. She turned her head back to me and her face glistened with streaks of perspiration with her hair sticking to it. Just ever so softly and out of earshot of the CSM, she managed a “Please”, begging me to be softer with the cane, or reduce the frequency of the strokes. I almost pitied her again, for all I saw before me was a harmless little girl who desperately just wanted this to stop. Almost. Before I realise she could technically stop this, by giving up. No, she was still the same manipulative, competitive cunt that [I]deserved[\I] what she got. This was a fitting predicament for a little go-getter like her, to strap her up and give her a piece of mind would be a wet dream for many, and I wasn’t going to waste my chance.
Part VIII
Cheng Ying held her head back to catch a breather and her arms hung up, still stretched up in tight bondage. The air felt more tense even though the CSM and Pei Jun had left, leaving just the 2 of us in the squalid store. My instructions were to accompany Cheng Ying for another 2 hours, as she had to remain tied up as her punishment and I had to make sure she didn’t faint.
I walked in front of her to better ogle at her and she was in no position to protest, given her predicament. Her shoulder length hair rested on her shoulders, with the ends matted with sweat sticking to her soft skin. She was what you will call a hot mess, all the perspiration over her only made her glow in the soft light of the storeroom. Sweat on a pretty girl only made her hotter, and the exercise only flushed her face red, like a ripe tomato I would love to bite into. A thin layer of sweat glazed her armpits, and it sparkles and glistened along the folds of her skin. I could only imagine how she will smell with her pheromones oozing from her, mixing with her shampoo and body soap, all permeating along her skin. Her neck glowed with her sweet juices, with her every movement changing the folds and features along this beautiful landscape. All that culminated in a sweet valley down her ample chest, and her green army singlet already hinted at how wet her body was, forming a dark moist patch right at her breasts. She was no longer embarrassed in her state, and she was almost grateful the vicious punishment was over.
“Hey Ezra, will Warrant Aileen really recommend me to be out of course? I really want to sign on eh.” She finally broke the silence with her desperate plea for information. It seemed like the CSM has truly messed not just with her body but her mind.
“Erm, I think so eh, she quite strict one. Last batch got quite a few regulars also OOC because of attitude problem. She really don’t give chance one.” A well-crafted lie she deserved. I wasn’t even a perm staff in here for the last batch, but it seemed I could join in on the psychological torture.
“Oh, I see.” She seemed dejected and genuinely sad. She placed her head back and pulled at her cuffs, leaning back dejected. “Oh damn it” she moaned softly.
The moan did not go unnoticed by me nor my little rifle.
“Ok la, I think I can try speaking to her, if you really really want to sign on, she may change her mind if I talk to her.”
This was my chance.
“Really, please, can you do it for me? I’ll do anything for you okay!” She smiled finally, and for a moment she reverted into a sweet girl next door, almost a chio bu except her mild acne brought her down to earth.
“If your attitude is good, sure.” I smiled back, hoping this was going the right way.
“ Wah Ezra, hehe, didn’t know you so naughty one. Taking advantage of a girl who is helplessly tied up ah?” She gleamed at me, teasing me with her voice. It seemed she knew what she had to do, and was no above using her body to get where she wanted. She could be as insidious as she liked, I didn’t care as Long as I got what I wanted. I Guess it is true that women who were not above using their bodies to get what they want do climb further in life. My rifle instinctively
senang diri
the moment she said those words, and pointed right at her.
“You say one ah.” Was all I managed before I walked right in front of her, and gave her neck a kiss. I inhaled deeply and took in her sensual pheromones. The air was warm and mild with her body scent, with a hint of body odour and shampoo. My hands went up with cuddled her waist, and I was slightly shocked even her singlet around her waist was moist with sweat, but it only made her hotter. She was taken aback and appeared coy in the face of my onslaught, shying her face away from me. No, I wasn’t going to let her do that. I placed my hands around her head, and forcefully made her yield, twisting her face towards me. She tried her best to pretend she was in on the action, but I could tell she hated it and only wanted to use me to convince the CSM. I couldn’t care if she was using me, as far as I was concern, me and my hands were going to be using her tonight for a good 2 hours. Despite her obvious discomfort, she maintained her composure and gave me a slight smile. I wonder if this is how the regulars who’d
chiong siam diu
felt whenever they hung out with the
siam bus
.
I gently kissed her supply, soft cheeks, and gave her oily face a long, lusty lick. She immediately jolted at my aggressive act, but the cuffs made her honest. All she could manage was to twist her face in vain. I could taste the oil and sweat in my mouth, and she knew I did; this lewdest act proved humiliating for her, and she shot me a look of disdain, gently begging, “Oh my God, please don’t.” “Sure.” That was just the starters, as toying with her cheeks on her face were nowhere near the highlights of tonight.
I gently moved my hands down her sweet valley, cupping her supply, beautiful breasts. The thin fabric was now drenched with perspiration and was made even more so as I squeezed her chest together. Her curvy, perky breasts were now fully in my hands, a scene I only thought possible in my wildest imaginations. I bend down slowly and placed my nose right at her cleavage that had been teasing me all night long. I drew another breath and took her scent in. Another disdainful look from her. Her resistance only piqued my curiosity and made me want to challenge her. With her bound in the store, there were plenty of options for me to humiliate her. I leaned in and gave her armpit a kiss. As I place a kiss on her sweaty wrinkled folds, I took a long breath in, teasing her by blowing on it. The scent was much stronger, her unique sensual body odour mixed with a very mild deodorant; this smelled more like she’d been exercising the whole day, which she did and I could not believe I was tasting it in my mouth. She jolted even harder as she realised what I did, her face anxious and embarrassed. “Oh my God, don’t do that please, I’m really sensitive there.”
It pleased me to see her beg.
“Alright, alright, don’t bully you already, maybe its time to reward you, ok?” I could no longer control my raging boner and placed my right hand right at her crotch. I raised the knuckle of my middle finger and prod her underwear with it, stroking up and down what I assumed was her labia. The thin fabric of her white underwear only tempted me further, my knuckle following a gentle rhythm she was now moaning to. “Oh, oh my God, oh, oh, ok, ok..” She could only moaned these few words as the restrains held her wrists and ankles tight, exposing her body to my mischievous antics. I varied my handiwork, using my index finger at times, poking into the fabric and stroking it erratically.
I teased the surface of her underwear and tucked my index finger under her it, threatening to pull her panties down. “How, want to have some fun?” I teased her. “Oh! Oh my God, please, oh my God, just take it off please and play with me.” She was already high in ecstasy, and it would be actually be cruel if I were to deny her this. Thankfully for her, me and my rifle were very cooperative soldiers that night. I gave her a smile and pulled her underwear down, exposing her unshaven hairy pussy.
It was always almost an irony, when the petite pretty girl with fair skin manage to have the hairiest pussy. Of course, perhaps because of how demure they were, they did not put in the effort to shave it for their non-existent sexual partners. Nevertheless, it never failed to excite me whenever a beautiful girl shows me her wild unshaven woman parts. In Cheng Ying’s case, it was a hot mess of rough pubic hair and sweat, with a suspiciously viscous liquid lining down her labia. I stuck one finger in, and she responded by jolting. As I pushed the first section of my finger in, she instinctively shouted, “Oh shit! Oh, oh, oh my, oh..”. The sensations bombarding her proved too much. If not for the locked door of the store, I was afraid the whole company might have heard her. “Cheng Ying, shiok or not” I teased as I froze my actions, with my finger still inside her. “Oh Ezra, oh shit, oh shit, its good ah, its good, its good, oh shit man, oh…” That was the first time I heard this scholar spoke a word of Singlish. Looks like she was dropping from Queen’s to the
ah lian’s
Singlish. In her state of intense pleasure, she’d dropped her pretence and only wanted more.
“Hmm, that’s good to hear you are enjoying yourself. Must enjoy yourself in army too, right?” She wasn’t the only one enjoying now, as I slide my finger further in, to her satisfaction. I pulled my the tip of finger back, curling my finger towards me back and forth, all the while inside her. She wasn’t just moaning and groaning now; she tip toed as high as she could and pulled her restraints at her wrists, her veins now bulging at her forearms. “Oh, Oh, shit, shit, this is good ah, ok, ok, ok, ok..” Her moans were now a bunch of incoherent words, as a million nerves fired up her vagina into her brain. I could feel more and more of her sweet juice dripping off my fingers, dripping into my palm and lubricating her soft abalone. I switched to my middle finger this time, and by the time it got to my knuckle, she seemed to have lost it. She swung her head back, and tugged wildly at her restraints, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck! Oh shit, ahhh…” Her sweating only got more profuse, and her face flushed red with blood and hormones, and she was now breathing with her mouth. “I haven’t push the whole finger in leh, you ok?” “Oh shit, oh, up to you, ah, ah ah…” Another incoherent verbose from her. As I pushed it in and curled it towards me, she reacted with the loudest groan I heard all night. That was no moaning, it was now a series of grunts. She seemed no longer a petite, sweet girl next door, but a wild animal in chains, tossing back and forth with involuntary movements wrought by pure ecstasy. I could feel the heat from her hot breaths, felt the sweat dripping from her chin into her chest and taste her pheromones from where I stood. I leaned into her neck again and placed my nose right at her skin. Her scent was even stronger now with her musky odour overpowering her light shampoo smell; it smelled of passion, of unbridled lust, and belonged to an ambitious cunt now begging for pleasure from me. She no longer displayed any coyness in front of me, she only seeked pleasure. She was in no position to get anything, and any pleasure came only at my mercy. The next one hour was going to be heaven and hell for her.
Despite my best efforts to prolong the session and her pleasure, time flies when you are having fun. I decided she was still too naughty to deserve a full orgasm and left her hanging (literally) after an hour of teasing. I could tell she was mad and would have wanted to finish herself off, if not for the cuffs she was wearing. “Oh, Ezra, please leh, please, please, please, please, please, I’ll be do good ok, can you just finish?” She now begged earnestly. “huh, cannot la, what if the CSM finds out.” While I’d enjoyed myself previously, I found it frankly stupid to yield to this ambitious, manipulative cunt. Pleasure was for me, the fact she enjoyed herself was only incidental and I couldn’t care less if she’d cummed or not, In fact, she fact that she wanted to cum so bad but couldn’t only made me harder. Seeing an ambitious scholar like her reduced to a orgasm-begging cunt excited me, and denying her the pleasure while she struggled hapless in bondage gave me a high I never felt before.
I deliberately waited until she cooled down before releasing her from the cuffs. I could tell she was upset she couldn’t get what she wanted, and she shot me a snide look before going back to her quarters. I couldn’t help think she deserved everything she got that night, and I wasn’t going to reward her backstabbing behaviour with an undeserved orgasm.
“Tomorrow follow me to the admin building, HQ says need help with this new DXO who just posted in, you bring the coyline files with you.”
The CSM had texted me this an hour ago. Another DXO huh, all I can hope is she’d be a
chio bu
, or a
lao chio
like Warrant Aileen.
Needless to say, I made a trip to the toilet and spent a good 20 minutes polishing my knob before turning in for the night.