Boot Camp

She looked up, her expression very cautious, "I...I don't recall an actual suggestion..."

He saw it in her face. She knew what he was talking about. "You're right, it wasn't so much of a suggestion as it was a dare."

Her eyes widened, "A Dare! Do you think I'm crazy?"

He chuckled and murmured, "Think about it. I think the intention behind it may have been. You just didn't expect me to ever take you up on it."

She thought about her words. They had been sassy. They had even been kind of flirty. And yes, well ,fine, the drawl *had* been said in a sort of a confident "I know I'm safe saying this." tone of voice.

She flicked her eyes back to him, her expression incredulous, "Drill Instructor Taglieri, are you saying you are going to *spank* me in front of these men?" Her hand gestured to the other Drill Instructors.

Taglieri's lips curved a touch, "No Recruit Castille, I'm saying that you are going to be spanked by all three of us."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes got round, "Wha...kkg..wh...Huh?!"

He barely contained a chuckle, "Your altercation may have ended with me, but it started with Drill Instructor McCafferty and it included all of us."

She exploded, "Well if you hadn't...*surrounded* me like a ravenous pack of HYENAS!..."

Taglieri put a hand up. "I'm not going to apologize to you for backing up McCafferty."

She looked at the ground not sure if she was angry or panicked or perhaps excited along with being angry and panicked. Her eyes fell on her shower kit and she pointed to it bemused. "Why did I bring that with me?"

Tag folded his arms again and drawled, "Hairbrush."

Her mouth dropped open again and she sputtered, "You! You are going to freakin' spank me with a *hairbrush*?!"

Tag nodded.

She stepped closer to him, her voice panicked and disbelieving, "Have you *ever* spanked anyone with a hairbrush, Drill Instructor Taglieri?!"

He was starting to look amused and that pissed her off.

He cleared his throat and tried to bite back a smile, "No."

She exploded again, "Well it FRIGGIN' HURTS! And!...And!... You don't need to use anywhere *near* the force that you would use with your hand, so you had better just freakin' be careful! Plus!...Plus!...OW!"

None of the men could hold back chuckling. She was in this very funny, freaked out, self-righteous fury and she didn't seem to have any idea that she wasn't objecting at *all* to the fact that they were actually going to spank her. Taglieri broke into a full-blown grin and wondered if he should ask her where she learned so much about hairbrush spankings. He was about to say something when she continued.

"And you people had better just be planning to warm me up first with your hands, because there is *no* way I am going to be able to be spanked with a friggin' hairbrush by three men and not be bruised black and blue unless I get warmed up! Oh. My. GOD."

McCafferty's whole body was shaking he was laughing so hard. Schell kept wiping away his grin and Tag just lost it and started laughing out loud.

"Oh fine, Go ahead and laugh at me. Yuck it up, Marine. You're not the one that's getting spanked by three...giant...scary people..."

Tag murmured, still chuckling, "I'm not laughing *at* you Castille, I'm just laughing because you're funny."

She rubbed her forehead, "Alright. Fine." She breathed out and murmured, "How is this going to go down?"

Taglieri sobered up and nodded to the table, "You'll bend over the table and..."

She cut him off with a disbelieving tone, "You are going to spank me with your hand and hairbrush while I'm bent over a table?"

He raised his brows, "You have a different way?"

She clenched her jaw, "Ok, fine," Her hands dropped to the ties at the front of her black pants, her fingers untied the knot as she stepped over to the table. She had hooked her thumbs in the topline of her trousers when Taglieri's voice stilled her hands.

"What are you doing?"

She turned to face him, hands frozen at her hips, her voice disbelieving and slightly sarcastic, "What do you mean what am I doing? I'm..." A look of realization came over her face. "...Ohhhhh...You were going to do it over the pants? She realized she was saying *way* too much. She made her voice light, "Ok, no problem, I'll just bend over your table now." She started tying the bow at her waist swiftly.

Tag stopped her by raising a hand. "No. Let's go back. Why disbelief at the table and why disbelief at the clothes?"

She sighed loudly and dropped her head in defeat. The gesture was far more funny than sad and the men all grinned again.

"Because...Well...because...I mean really..." her hands gestured helplessly, "...that's not...well really...It's just common knowledge...that's just not the proper...proper way to conduct...a hand and hairbrush...spanking, for goodness sake..." she trailed off wishing she had just kept her mouth shut and played stupid.

Taglieri grinned and made a production of making himself comfortable in a chair. "Please, Recruit Castille. Do educate us on how to conduct a proper hand and hairbrush spanking."

She blushed and murmured, "God, I really hate you."

That sent all three men chuckling and the other two arrogant SOBs settled into chairs looking at her with the same innocent expressions.

She put her face in her hands, "God. OK. Fine." She snapped her voice into a detached lecture tone, "A hand or hairbrush spanking is most commonly given over the knee on the bare skin. That maximizes target surface and allows you to see the damage you are doing. It also keeps the person firmly down and against the body while managing to keep them off balance. A variation is over one thigh, bracing the backs of the knees to stop kicking and minimize struggling. Tables are for longer implements like belts or large paddles, not the hand or a small implement like a hairbrush. I am going to Stop. *Talking*. Now."

Taglieri couldn't help himself. He purred, "Mmmm, well, doesn't our Recruit Castille just have an encyclopedic knowledge about certain subjects."

Castille bit out, "Hating. You."

Tag chuckled and continued to tease, "Really, I'd love to hear about where you find this kind of thing out. You'll have to tell me the whole story and instruct me in the full course sometime..." he trailed off grinning.

Castille looked at him then looked pointedly at the clock, "Yeah, Ok. I see you are curious. So I'll be sure to do that around about a quarter past *Never*."

All three men burst into laughter.

She groaned, "God I *suck.* Just...just shoot me." She started looking around the room. "You people must have a sidearm here somewhere, you're the military for God's sake." The three men continued to laugh. She turned toward all of them with a groan and leaned against the edge of the table. "Ok, now that I've just managed to up my abject humiliation and pain by about 1000 points. How is this going to go down?"

Taglieri sobered himself. He had been anxious before about bringing the whole spanking thing up up. The other two men thought he was crazy and had argued that they were all going to end up with it blowing up in their faces. He looked at her. She was animated again, and funny again. She didn't look *happy* but she didn't look put out or victimized, that was for sure. He found that his curiosity had grown over the last 15 minutes to a real desire to actually do it.

Tag cleared his throat and tried not to grin, "Well, in light of your gracious instruction in the art of conducting this kind of punishment, I'd say that you will go over McCafferty's lap first, then Schell's, then mine. When each Drill Instructor has figured you have had enough from him, he will let you up and have you go to the next. When I'm finished with you, we will consider the insubordination forgotten, make our way to our quarters, and start tomorrow with a clean slate."

She sighed and started removing her boots. "God. Fine."

She dropped her socks in her boots and untied her trousers again slipping them off and folding them neatly on the table. The men just watched. It hadn't occurred to them that she would remove them entirely. She was so used to her privacy being invaded for weeks that it didn't occur to her to be embarrassed to be seen in cotton jockeys. She was more focused on how embarrassing the spanking was going to be.

Tag had to ask. "Castille why did you remove your boots and trousers?

She looked up as she removed the black jacket, dropping it on the table and turning to face him wearing only a black cotton turtleneck and a pair of olive drab jockeys. She murmured distractedly, "I'll just get tangled up in them if they stay on."

Tag tried not to notice her shapely legs and just coughed, "Fair enough."

She moved over to Mc Cafferty trying to shove down the embarrassment. He stood as she approached him, working on his own embarrassment. She didn't notice it. The fact that he was a 29 year-old male in his prime looking at a half-naked, shapely female didn't even occur to her. He was a Terminator as far as she was concerned, and beyond embarrassment over things like that.

She stopped in front of him and snapped her body into attention. Her gaze settled on the 6'2 man's collarbone. Her voice was as official as she could make it, but she still really wished the floor would swallow her whole, "Recruit Castille reporting for punishment as ordered, Sir."

McCafferty looked at Castille, his expression hardening into a familiar disapproving gaze. The downtime familiarity they had given her was over with and it was back to business. He barked, "Recruit Castille, for your gross insubordination in the barracks today you are going to be put under discipline. You *will* submit to this willingly! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. After 13 weeks with this man she knew better than to say anything other that what was completely necessary. When she opened her mouth again it was brief, "Yes, Sir. I am willing. No, Sir, I have nothing to say."

The blue-eyed Drill Instructor dropped his body into his chair and barked, "Get over my knee, Castille."

She gritted her teeth and draped herself over his lap. Her 5'9 frame didn't feel like much as she teetered for balance over the young man's muscular thighs. The steadied herself by grasping the legs of the chair and wiggled a bit until her bottom was positioned high over his knees, her toes clenching trying to get purchase on the flat carpet.

McCafferty's voice became a silky growl, "Comfy, Castille? Because you're going to be there a while."

She groaned in embarrassment, "Not especially, Sir."

He hooked his thumbs in the top line of her cotton jockeys and unceremoniously dragged them over her hips, settling them just below her bottom. McCafferty flicked his blue gaze up to Taglieri. There was no going back now. The scene was a bit surreal to the young Drill Instructor. He had never in his life thought he would have a female recruit bare-bottomed over his knee for a spanking. He found he rather liked the weight of her body and clasped a hand to her waist, holding her warm form hard against his belly. The girl was trembling a little and the creamy skin of her buttocks jiggled slightly as he laid his large hand on one pristine globe.

His tone was hard and disapproving when he spoke, "Recruit Castille, for your gross insubordination today I plan to blister your ass for you. Besides the scene you created, I am personally offended that you jumped to the conclusion that I questioned your honor and accused you of lying. During your little *tirade* tonight you mentioned that we were supposed to know our people. I don't owe any recruit any explanation for my behavior, but the fact remains that I *do* know you Castille, and specifically did *not* accuse you for that reason! I'd like to know if you regret slighting my character and inferring that I am stupid!"

Castille whimpered, "Oh, you really have no idea how much, Sir."

His big hand cracked down on her unpunished cheeks and she yelped loudly in surprise and pain.

"That is not an acceptable answer, Castille!"

She groaned out, "I'm sorry, Sir. Yes, Sir. I am lousy with regret. Completely remorseful. I deeply apologize, and offer amends to you and your family."

McCafferty choked and tried not to laugh. God the girl could not *keep* herself from being a smartass even when she was being sincere! Tag and Schell turned their heads until they stopped chuckling.

McCafferty's voice was strident with his accent, "And just what were you thinking today during that pathetic display, Recruit?"

She wished to God he would get on with it and stop torturing her, "I wasn't, Sir."

He growled, "Exactly! And it is totally unacceptable to me that a recruit of *mine* would act without thinking."

He brought down his hand hard on the opposite cheek. A matching pink handprint flared up as the "Crack!" of his hand against her bottom rang in the room. She yelped loudly again.

"I want you to *state* why you are being punished, Castille."

She squirmed with humiliation, they usually didn't make recruits talk during punishment. She took a deep breath and murmured in her most official voice, "This recruit was insubordinate, aggressive, and insulting, Sir. This recruit deserves severe punishment for her unwarranted and inappropriate actions."

He brought his large right hand down again, curling the fingers around her cheek with a loud "Smack!" and growled, "You bet your ass you do." Then he started spanking her seriously.

She immediately regretted wishing earlier that he would just get to it. His hand flashed down swiftly and hard. The smacks on her pinkening backside sounded like pistol shots in the room. She wiggled and gritted her teeth trying not to cry out, this was no moderate warm-up. The Boston native was whacking her bare bottom nearly full force from the get go. Her bottom bounced and wagged as he spanked her. She managed to keep her yelps stifled to low groans behind her clenched teeth, but she couldn't keep from squirming under the sound spanking he was giving her.

He continued to scold as he walloped her bare backside, "Recruits do *not* talk back to their Drill Instructors! Recruits do *not* speak to their Drill Instructors unless spoken to or given permission to speak! Is that clear, Recruit Castille?"

His palm swatted her bottom especially hard and she couldn't contain the yelp that escaped when she unclenched her teeth to speak, "OH! Yes, Sir!"

Her bare bottom had turned bright red under his palm and her feet were fluttering in distress. He locked his body down on her and drove her into a wiggling, fluttering frenzy for a full five minutes before growling, "I'd say that 'naughty fucking recruits' who forget themselves deserve to get spanked with a hairbrush. What do you say to that, Castille?"

She groaned in misery, "This 'naughty fucking recruit' reluctantly agrees, Sir."

Tag covered his mouth when he chuckled out loud.

McCafferty kept his straight face and dragged her panties back up over her red bottom. "Get up and bring me your hairbrush, Recruit!"

She scrambled off his lap keeping her head bowed. She moved to her shower kit and swiftly dropped to a knee as her shaking hands opened the zipper. She pulled the hardwood, oval brush out of the kit cursing herself for her choice of brushes. Women who liked a bit of spanking in their lives never bothered with silly, plastic brushes. Silly, plastic, harmless, couldn't hurt your ass if they tried, brushes. She wished to God she owned one now, and whimpered as she clutched the wicked brush in her hand.

McCafferty barked, "TODAY, Castille."

She scurried back to him feeling the moderate burn on the surface of her bottom. She had managed to stay fairly quiet during the hand spanking and was afraid this was going to radically change in a moment. She stood at his right side and silently offered the brush with worried blue eyes.

He grabbed it and barked, "Why are you just standing there?! GETOVERMYKNEESRIGHTNOWCASTILLE!"

She squeaked in alarm and flung herself over his lap. He had to bite back a grin as her weight hit his thighs. He turned the brush in his hand and looked at it. It felt pretty heavy. He smacked his palm and raised his eyebrows, Ouch. This girl was in for a world of hurt. He dragged her panties down again. Castille's bottom was a bright, light red and very warm to the touch. He enjoyed the heat for a moment then placed the cool wood against one cheek and heard her whimper incoherently.

His accented voice snarled, "I was *completely* disgusted with your behavior today, Recruit." He brought the brush down hard and bounced one of her red cheeks off the back of it. His brow shot toward the ceiling when she yelled.

"OW! OHH NOOO!"

He continued, "Recruits don't speak out of turn, do they?" He cracked the brush down on her trembling bottom again.

"AAIGH! No SIR! NO, SIR! Recruits do not speak out of turn, Sir!"

Her voice was frantic and he cocked an eyebrow and looked at the brush. Usually he had to scream his head off to get such frantic compliance. This was far less work and a lot more fun.

He growled, "And recruits do not ever disobey an order from a Drill Instructor, do they?" The brush smacked her hot bottom hard again.

"OUCH! GOD! NO SIR! Recruits do not disobey orders from Drill Instructors, Sir!"

"Well apparently you are some kind of special, fancy recruit, because you did both today." His voice was hard and unforgiving.

She whimpered and scrambled to try to appease him, "Please Sir! This recruit gravely regrets her actions and willneverdoitAGAINSIR!"

McCafferty barked, "You're damn right you will never do it again, Castille! Ten minutes!"

She moaned, "Oh please NooaAAAIGH!" Her plea turned into a shriek as the brush flailed down on her vulnerable ass. Her hand grabbed his calf and her legs started kicking as the hardwood brush smacked down forcefully all over her bottom.

"OW! OWW! Please Sir! GOD! Please not so HARD, SIR! OH! OUCH!"

He snarled, "Keep still, Castille!"

She wailed, "I'M TRYING TOOOOO! AAIGH!"

She had a death grip on his leg and was keening and whining loudly. Her legs were still kicking as he spanked her.

"Castille! If you don't stop kicking *Right Now*, I'm adding another ten minutes!"

She shrieked "NOOOOOOO!" and tried frantically to lock her knees down under the chair. Her weight pressed down into his lap and her bottom arched higher. She tried deep breathing, willing her body into obedience, but the spanking fucking hurt! She couldn't keep quiet and still at the same time, so she crossed her ankles, locking her body down with sheer willpower, and yowled at the top of her voice as her flaming ass took stroke after stroke from the stern Drill Instructor.

"PLEASE, SIR! GOD! OH! AAIIGH! PLEASE, SIR, NOT SO HARD! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'LL BE GOOD!! PLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD!!!"

McCafferty was incredibly impressed with the results of this punishment. He felt some compassion because he knew he was roasting her ass with the brush, so instead of scolding her he merely murmured, "That's five, Castille. Another five minutes to go."

Her voice turned teary, "NO! NO! NO! Please STOP spanking ME! Not another five minutes! PLEASE! I'll DIE!!"

McCafferty *did* chuckle at that one. "You're not going to die, Castille. Don't be silly." He murmured in an aside, " It is good that none of the last contests involve sitting down though."

She moaned and wailed and yowled and pleaded but the young Drill Instructor was well in his element. Punishment and discipline were familiar and friendly territory. There was no way he was backing off. He delivered the last few stern strokes to her blazing hide as the last few seconds ticked away. He was willing to let her shuddering body recover a bit, and ran his hand over her fire-hot cheeks as she whimpered. After a minute he murmured, "Ok, Up."