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From: toryu88@hotmail.com (sir_kraken)
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Boot Camp Harlot Chap 1 and 2 {Toryu} (fM+ reluc interr degrad oral anal nc/cons bdsm breast sad beast pierc exhib fist)
Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2002 07:10:05 -0500
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Boot Camp Harlot

This is an original work of adult literature.  If you are under
18 years of age, read no further.  If you are a pious self-righteous
adult burdened by a repressive religious upbringing and sexual
hang-ups too numerous to count, then you too should pass.

This work may be copied for personal use and enjoyment, ONLY.
Reposting on any pay sites is forbidden without the expressed
permission of the Author at:  toryu88@hotmail.com

This work contains f_M+, Domination, Con/NC sex, slavery,
prostitution, beast, bondage, interracial, masochism, sadism, breast
torture, piercing, large breasts, and whatever else comes to mind.

      Feel free to offer comments and suggestions at the above email.

{ASS} Boot Camp Harlot Chap 1 and 2 {Toryu} (fM+ reluc interr degrad
oral anal nc/cons bdsm breast sad beast pierc exhib fist)


The Boot Camp Harlot


Chapter 1

The door closed behind the last of them. The beautiful young woman lay
naked, sprawled across the old bed. Stained and soiled sheets half
stripped from the mattress, lay bunched around it on the floor.  Her
smooth firm limbs told of her not quite twenty years. She lay
motionless in the empty room, the large mounds of her naked breasts
rose and fell with her rhythmic breathing as her mind drifted.  A
cloud of disheveled black hair swarmed around her head, accentuating
the angelic look on her face.

Empty beer bottles and sweating half finished drinks cluttered the
single table around a large dirty ashtray.  The air smelled of
cigarettes mingled with the smell of mildew coming from the filthy
bathroom. Above it all hung the thick cloying smell of sex. Stained
brown wallpaper had begun to peel above her pretty head matching the
dirty hues of the cheap worn carpet covering the floor.  The young
woman's alabaster nakedness stood out from the surrounding squalor her
very presence gave emphasis to the surrounding decadence.

Stirring briefly, a leg moved to relieve cramped muscles. The hairless
rose red lips of her naked labia parted.  Light from the dim bare lamp
bulb caught and glistened on a thick grayish ribbon of wetness leaking
from between the swollen red lips like a slug slowly defiling the face
of a flower.  Pearls of congealed  fluid shone in the sparse black
curls of her mons and more showed as barely visible dried smears and
splotches on her white skin.  An arm shifted above her head, the
movement causing a large firm breast to undulate, it's pale smooth
surface marred with the livid welts from sucking mouths and biting
teeth.  Others, faint bruises bore testament to the milking hands and
strong demanding fingers of her recently departed guests.

Behind the closed eyes, her mind drifted, trying to make sense of the
events that had led her to where she now lay.  How her idyllic life,
full of future promise had led here, to a filthy room in a seedy
motel.

"How many had it been this time?" she wondered.  Her breath caught as
the pungent taste of sperm bubbled in the back of her throat. She ran
her tongue across the surface of her strong white teeth and felt the
gummy residue of some stranger's spunk.  Her heart fluttered as she
recalled how the hot fluid  had flooded her mouth again and again. 
She felt the pricking sensation along her red raw labia as they began
to swell with hot blood.  She groaned inwardly as she remembered
straining to suck the thick ribbonous fluid from faceless cocks
between her pursed lips like a suckling child. The musing opened the
door to memories of a riot of hard hot spewing cocks, stretching her,
filling her, bathing her in gouts of hot reeking seed. The now
familiar feeling in her belly started anew.  The queasiness of
anticipation, the hot flush on her chest, tightness of breath.  Her
thick nipples hardened as her aureoles puckered into dark little
saucers, the high expansive mounds of her breasts swelling beneath
firm smooth skin as hot blood rushed to nurture the fat orbs.  She
felt her teeth grind as her womb pulled tight in the trim cradle of
her hips.  The contraction hastened the course of the liquid gray
slug, as it pulsed out from between the fat slabs of her swollen
labia.  The mingled seed of a dozen men slithered out in single
viscous string crawling downward, across the abused mouth of her
sodomized anus, to form a vile puddle between her young thighs.

The beautiful young woman shivered as the sick craving spread like a
drug through her system.  The little snake of her tongue peeked out
from between her full lips to lick nervously at the white film that
circled her pretty mouth.  Slowly, almost reluctantly, her sleek arm
snaked it's way down the bed, her small hand cupped the wet mound
between her smooth sleek thighs.  A low groan leaked from her tense
lips as a red nailed middle finger slid slowly down the flooded groove
of her own cunt. The slender woman shivered at the feel of her own
finger against the raw swollen nub of her clitoris. The fat pink worm 
of her tongue lolled from her mouth lapping at her sperm stained lips
as she scrapped a chipped red nail across the livid button if her
clitoris.  She pulled her knees upward as her slender finger worried
the swelling nub greedily amid the fetid mire of the men's spent seed.
Her thoughts drifted back on the cloud of lust that began to descend
as the beautiful young slut greedily sought yet another climax...


The bus was hot.  Adding to the discomfort was the pervading
atmosphere of fear and apprehension. The latest headlines were not
good.  The Viet Cong had just launched their Tet Offensive landing a
body blow to the American public's confidence.  The busload of new
draftees contemplated the news each in their own way.   The young men
sat sweating in silence as the vehicle and four more like it turned
into the gate and headed toward a large expanse of tarmac that served
as a parade ground.  The big olive drab buses stopped in a line along
one side of the black rectangle.  As they did so, a small cluster of
uniformed men burst into activity as each one headed toward a bus
door. Scott Maddox sat sweltering in the South Georgia humidity;
Michigan had never been this hot.  The heat radiating from the black
tarmac surface made it doubly bad.  Scott felt his side of the bus sag
as a huge black hulk of a man stepped onto the bus doorway.  He
watched as the huge black sergeant surveyed the bus of former
civilians for an instant, and then addressed them in a loud booming
voice.

"All right, gentlemen, collect your bags, exit the bus and find a set
of white footprints on the parade ground and fall in!  Now move it!"

The young men struggled down the isle jostling each other as they
carried their bags. Scott moved as quickly as possible following the
line of sweat stained shirts off the bus and onto the tarmac.  He fell
in, dropped his bags and immediately began to bake under the
blistering sun.  He wiped a hand across his sweating face and pushed
his blond hair from his forehead.  God it was hot!  His eyes darted
along the line and watched as the massive Drill Instructor took his
place front and center of the lines of men.

"My name is Sergeant Jefferson.  Welcome to Fort Pitt.  I am your
Drill Instructor.  Your DI.  You are now in the Army. I love the Army,
the Army is my home.  You too will learn to love the Green Machine. 
You will address me as Sir! You will only speak when spoken to. You
will begin and end every sentence with Sir, is that clear?"

A ragged chorus of "Sir, Yes, Sir." rose from the men.  Sgt.
Jefferson, shook his head, "It was going to be a long day." he thought
as he swung his thick muscular arms behind his back and paced in front
of the men.

Scott stood in the heat, could see the simmering lines of it rising in
front of him, feel it in the bottoms of his feet.
"How could he stand it?" he wondered to himself.  Sure his fatigues
showed sweat stains, but my god he didn't even look wilted."  The
young blond man thought looking at the Drill Instructor's crisp
fatigues.  He listened to the DI's tirade, responding as required, but
felt the heat lulling him into a dreamlike state.  His mind drifted to
thoughts of Colette, his fiancée as she was as she saw him off, her
pretty face framed by a cloud of dark wavy hair.  The slender nose
high cheeks and full red lips. Her face floated in front of him like a
mirage. Had it been only a day?

He lurched suddenly catching himself, the tarmac spinning in front of
him as he stumbled for balance.  He weaved on his feet in front of
where he had been standing, every eye on him as the DI wheeled in his
direction.

"Je-e-e-z-u-z, fucking che-rist!"  The DI boomed in his ear.  "What
the hell is your problem, recruit?" he said his fists clenching and
unclenching at the end of his thick muscular arms.

"Nothing..." Scott blurted out.

"What did you say recruit?" the enraged DI screamed in his face, his
large black jaw just inches from the diminutive blonde's face.  The
slender young man began to stammer an answer but before he could
finish a huge black fist drove into the soft pudding of his stomach
doubling him up, his eyes rolled up in his head and the ground rushed
up to meet him.

Chapter 2

The black Sergeant looked out the window at the solitary figure that
marched endlessly back and forth across the parade ground.  "A
worthless piece of trash." he thought as he rubbed his fingers along
the rough stubble on his thick jaw. "He wouldn't last a week in the
bush against Victor Charlie.  Hell, he wouldn't last an hour humping a
40 lb rucksack in 120-degree heat.  His lazy, wimpy white ass would be
in a body bag within a week of being in country." he figured.  His
lazy privileged white ass was holding the whole platoon back.  He had
decided to wreck the boy. Goddamn he hated privileged white boys!
The steady gaze of his black eyes watched the young soldier until he
stumbled in the heat and fell in a heap on the black tarmac.


Scott lay in the infirmary, an IV plugged into his arm.  The last two
weeks had been the most miserable of his life.  He knew his
performance on the first day had turned him into the Sergeant's
personal whipping boy and nothing he could do could change it.
He had talked an attendant into calling his folks, not quite sure what
good that would do.  His eyes welled with tears.  The guy had said
that some girl answered the phone.  Colette, his Colette.  She'd tell
his folks and maybe he could get a medical discharge.  Maybe.  He
closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, the pretty face of the
brunette floating over him like a guardian angel.

A small hand wiped across the steamy mirror clearing a space for her
reflection.  She hurried, her flight left in just two hours.  She had
to remember to write a note to Scott's parents who wouldn't be back
for several weeks.  The steam air from the shower drifted out the open
door and the mirror began to clear.  The tall brunette stood bent over
the white porcelain sink.  Beads of water stood on her naked back as
she brushed as the thick mat of  dark wet hair.  Her trim calves
flexed as she leaned on tiptoes toward the mirror, the trim fleshy
globes of her buttocks flexed.  The beads of water on her back
coalesced to trickle down the deep valley of her spine, slowed as they
passed the twin dimples above her buttocks then disappeared in the
deep crevasse formed by the firm prominent mounds.

Her narrow waist twisted as she reached for a lipstick then went back
to applying her makeup.  The large firm globes of her breasts shimmied
with her movements.  They billowed out heavily, as she leaned forward,
bent slightly at the waist  then arched down in deep curving bellies
before swooping up to join her tight ribcage above a smooth flat
stomach. Each heavy expansive mound was laced with faint blue veins
just visible beneath the white skin that covered them so tightly. The
fat thick stubs of her nipples matched the dark brown of her silver
dollar sized aureoles.

The young woman's hips flared below the narrow waist and only now
showed the start of the womanly curves her mother possessed.  She
shrugged her smooth wide shoulders causing her long cleavage to
deepen.   She raised her arms to tie her wet hair back, oblivious to
how it raised her massive breasts, and set them to swaying.  She
sniffed at the reflection staring back at her, satisfied.

The beautiful 19 year old stepped into the bedroom and began to dress.
She struggled into the white lacy harness of an under wire bra. The
firm mounds of her huge breasts protested at the confinement  by
oozing out the top of the synthetic prison.  She slipped her arms into
a beige peasant blouse of cotton and lace, slipping it down over her
damp head.  She tugged the blouse into place, where the full prominent
mounds of her encased breasts billowed the top out like a café awning
over her trim waist.

Next came a pair of thin cotton panties which she slipped over her
trim ankles and up her smooth shaven legs.  The narrow expanse of
cottom covered her sparse black bush with modesty to spare.  Reaching
down, she slipped her feet into a pair of tight embroidered bell
bottomed jeans and hopped once, twice, each time ratcheting the tight
denim higher up her hips and thighs. She squirmed a bit stretching the
worn denim into place over every luscious curve.

The honk of the taxi's horn spurred her on.  She quickly slipped on a
pair of pumps, grabbed her bag and headed out the door.  Finished, the
pretty young woman picked up her bag and rushed out the door.  In her
haste she forgot to leave the note for her fiancee's parents.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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