Kate Returns Home Ch. 08

[This story includes bodily functions and discipline. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are well over 18. My thanks to Leslie Jones for encouraging me to use her Women's Republic setting and her characters.]

"I couldn't believe I was on a Corrections Service conveyance to Hergolia camp," Harry thought to himself. "One of the correctional officers had told us, the group of about a dozen men, that we were being taken there. Just about everyone, the officers and inmates alike, knew about the camp's reputation as the most distant and the harshest of all the Corrections Service facilities in the Women's Republic."

"By the time we arrived, it was almost dark," Harry kept recalling to himself. "We were ordered out of the conveyance after sitting for several hours during the trip. We didn't have time to shake ourselves out, because a large woman, who told us she was SSG Penny, told us to stand in a line where she was pointing. There were two other sergeants, or maybe one was a corporal, who kept reminding us to stand up straight and keep our hands out of our pockets.

"SSG Penny announced that we were here to be retrained and that some of the retraining would not please us. If we didn't keep to the rules and the schedule, we would be sorry because our barracks sergeant had total authority to discipline us. She introduced those sergeants, who looked like very tough women, except for one, whose name was SGT Nicole, who was gorgeous.

"Then SSG Penny told us we were going to be addressed by the camp's commandant, CPT Helene. She was a surprisingly youthful-looking woman, attractive with auburn hair. She also told us to follow what our barracks sergeant told us to do and not to engage in backtalk or grousing. There would be a sick call, she said, but it was limited to those who were sick. If you tried to get on it and the doctor found you were not actually sick, you would be punished.

"Our sergeants don't talk about discipline; they impose it as necessary. Stick to what they tell you and you'll get through your time here and emerge with a clear accomplishment," CPT Helene said. "I can talk about discipline, though. We have a reputation as a tough camp because we feel if you are sent here, you'll find that we're beyond a lot of the nonsense that preceded your referral. And I'll even mention, not to frighten you but to inform you, that there's a particularly serious punishment we have here, and now at some other retraining facilities, that I as the commandant have to personally approve if a sergeant or officer feels you have behaved especially badly. You don't want that to happen, that much I'll tell you.

"You won't hear much from me," she continued, "especially if you keep your nose clean and do what you're told. Lastly, I have full confidence in our cadre: officers, sergeants, corporals, everyone. Don't come and complain to me. Tell it to your barracks sergeant. She's heard it all but she's willing to listen to you. That is all. SSG Penny, I'm turning this back to you."

"Thank you, Captain," SSG Penny said warmly. "Now I will call off your names and each of you will assemble in the group to which you are assigned, and your barracks sergeant will take you to the barracks. Barracks sergeants, please position yourself."

Harry kept reflecting and thinking about the whole experience. "I was assigned to SGT Nicole's barracks. A gorgeous-looking flaming red-haired woman who probably was at most 30 or maybe 35 years old stood up when SSG Penny called out a group of names. Those named walked over to SGT Nicole who immediately told us to form a line. Then she walked us to a barracks on the other side of the central area where we had been standing.

"When we got to the barracks, she called out our names and told us our names were on each bed in the barracks and we should stand by the one with our name on it. I walked in and saw my name and was pleased that these were single beds, not double-deckers. SGT Nicole was there as we stood and told us we would be the best barracks in the camp.

"I'm not kidding," she said coolly. "I'm going to be hard on you, no question about it. I don't like to finish below first place. I will commend you of you do what you're told, make your bed, do your chores, but if you fuck up, I'll be all over you.

"There's always someone who doesn't believe me," she said. "Do you have any questions?"

"One man raised his hand, was recognized, and asked, 'Can I ask what the punishment that the commandant referred to is?"

SGT Nicole smiled. "Usually, we let you find out if you misbehave seriously, but I'll tell you. I don't beat around the bush. If the Captain signs off on a sergeant's referral to subject you to this punishment, you will strip and lie in a large box-like container--you'll have plenty of room. You will lie on your back about a foot below the top lid. You will be strapped in, hands and feet. When the lid is closed, you will see light coming out of a round hole above your face. Every so often, someone--members of our cadre--will come in and yes, you will see her bottom because she sits on what is a toilet seat on that hole. She will do her business and it will land on your face. The Captain will decide how long you stay in there. You will be able to breathe. That will not be your problem. Need I say more?"

"There were no further questions. We were all amazed and yes, scared. Even the tough guys. This would be no picnic," Harry thought back on how he felt then.

SGT Nicole and a nice-looking younger woman named CPL Grace came around and handed each of us a pair of pink panties.

The sergeant then told us that we normally would be wearing only those panties and a plain white tee shirt. CPL Grace came around again with tee shirts. They must have been given our measurements from the referral form that in my case Kate had filled out because they had three pairs of pink panties and three tee shirts in my size.

"When you have worn the shirt and panties for a day," CPL Grace said loudly, "you will deposit them in the laundry slot at the front. You will get them back or others in your size later that day. Don't wait until you must put three days' worth in at once."

Now, SGT Nicole spoke again. "If you screw up, like what the corporal said, and don't put your used clothing into the laundry each day, you will feel this little whip that's always on my belt." She picked it up and flexed it and swung it in the air where it whistled. "You don't want to feel this. Don't try and stalk me, CPL Grace, or any other Corrections Service officer here. If you misuse the latrine, we have other panties you will wear. They lock, so you will have to come to one of us to be unlocked if you need to piss or shit. If you must do that in the middle of the night, we will take you in and unlock you, but don't think we'll be pleased."

She spoke to us a bit longer. Then we were left to sit or lie on our beds. Every day there would be a morning formation and we saw all the other men in the camp in line, wearing white tees and panties. The panties didn't seem as embarrassing because every man was wearing them. But that first time, we were embarrassed, because the men who had been there longer had green panties on. We were told that we would get those after three days if we behaved well. Otherwise, we would keep wearing the pink undies.

Each day, we listened to different noncoms lecture us on how we needed to learn to behave with women. We were told all about menstruation, and how women reacted to it. We were warned that many women were in pain, had cramps, or other ill feelings during their periods. So, we were told to console them and behave even better then. Each of us had a session with the camp therapist. She spent an hour with each of us and went over what had gotten us referred by our responsible woman. We then had to prepare a paper outlining how we had misbehaved and how we would correct that, so we behaved properly in the future.

There was also physical training and sometimes movies and TV after supper. If you were put on the barracks sergeant's punishment list, you were made to lie on your bed instead of going to watch the movies and TV. I met my barracks mates and we spoke briefly to each other. Most were there because in some way, they pissed off their wife or girlfriend or sister or whatever female they knew, sometimes their boss or their secretary.

On the second day, SGT Nicole called me out at the morning assembly and told me to report to her room in the barracks after the assembly. I had no idea what the subject might be because no one had said I did anything wrong.

When I knocked on her door, I heard her tell me to come in. She had me sit down in a chair she had there. There was a desk, bookcase, bed, and chair in her room. It was tasteful, especially for a barracks room.

"I called you in, Harry," she said very coolly, "because I wanted to mention something to you. You were referred here by MAJ Kate. I gather you are married to her." I nodded yes. "You should be aware that I know her. I was once sent to her unit for retraining, and I later was in her cadre of noncoms. Because I was impetuous when I once was meeting in her office, she took a dislike to me. Yes, I was approved, by her, to be put in that box CPT Helene mentioned.

"I do not intend to let that affect how I relate to you as your barracks sergeant," she continued. "This background will have no impact on your time here. I just wanted you to know that I will not take my feelings about your wife out on you. I'm a professional corrections officer. I do my job. You should know that I'm strict. If you are not properly dressed or your uniform -- in your case, tee shirt, panties, socks, and shoes -- is soiled in any way, you will be punished, and that usually means this little whip, or my thin cane [which she then picked up and flexed] or I might just decide to give you an old-fashioned spanking. Everyone will tell you I may be the strictest barracks sergeant. So, if I discipline you, it won't be because of anything but what you do yourself. Understood? Are you on the same wave length?"

"Yes, sergeant," I said, and I thanked her for calling me in and explaining as she did.

"You're quite welcome," she said. "You're free to go, Harry."

Since this was a formal meeting, I saluted her and did a reverse and walked away. As I was leaving, she called me back.

"You didn't have to do that in barracks," she said with a smile. "But know that I appreciated it."

I merely said, 'Thank you, Sergeant," and then walked out.

I made a mistake two days later. I forgot to put the tee and the panties I wore in the laundry that day. At the barracks assembly after the camp assembly, SGT Nicole called out a few names. These every day were those who had earned punishment. She called my name on the list. We, there were four of us, walked up to stand in front of her.

She took out her whip and told each of us to bend over and pull down our panties to our knees. When she was looking at four bare male bottoms, she walked over and gave each of us five sharp swipes with her little whip. It hurt like hell but not enough to cry out. Then she told us to pull our panties up and resolve to do better. Two of the four of us sported erections. SGT Nicole did not comment on that, but I know she saw them. One of them was mine.

I wasn't allowed to have my cell phone and there was no way to call anyone outside of the camp. I missed both Kate and Glenda a lot. I also had to explain ultimately to my office why I was away. I found out later that Kate had called them and explained that I would be gone for two weeks and could not be reached. They probably put two and two together, or maybe they didn't.

SGT Nicole, on the fourth day--we did seem to lose track of time--called out a list of most of the barracks and I was on it. We were all being promoted to green panties. I admit that still wearing panties was pretty embarrassing, but you learned to appreciate even small privileges at the camp.

Later that day, I had my therapist's appointment. She was a cold-looking blonde in her 40s named 1LT Jones. She asked me to talk about my relationship with my wife and why I was referred. I could see that my explanation of the latter did not please her. She started telling me that I obviously had serious issues that probably arose from my childhood and school days. I heard her out and then said that I didn't feel her conclusions were correct She responded coldly that I clearly was resistant to retraining and that this would go in my camp record. I said I couldn't control what she wrote, but that I still disagreed because she didn't know me. She told me I could go. I returned to my barracks.

A few hours later, SGT Nicole came by my bed.

"You really pissed off 1LT Jones," she said, and she wasn't smiling. "Don't you understand that you have to go with the program here?"

I told her I was just giving the therapist an honest answer.

"If you keep up with this kind of stuff," she said, and I saw that she was getting annoyed, "you are going to be very sorry."

Then she added: "I like you, Harry, that's why I'm talking about this with you. I now have to discipline you and write it up, but I wanted you to know that I know you can do better. If you don't, you'll be very unhappy, and you might be kept on here longer."

I realized she really was trying to help me, so I told her I was sorry and that I had learned what I needed to do at the camp.

"That's better," she said, and told me to follow her into the training room, which was at the back of the barracks, beyond her room.

I had not previously been in there, but I saw quite a few instruments--canes, straps, tawses, tappets, martinets, you know the stuff. SGT Nicole had me bend over a gym horse that clearly was there for punishment. Then she strapped my legs to the bottom posts of the horse and when I bent over, she strapped my arms where there were notches for them to be attached. Then she pulled my panties down to my ankles.

She stepped back and I couldn't see what instrument she picked up. It was a medium-thick cane. She lay it on my bared bottom, drew it back, and fired. It landed right in the middle of my bottom and hurt like hell. I screamed, not too loudly. She just kept giving me strokes above that one, and below it on my bottom. My ass was getting very sore and if I could see it, there were red stripes where the cane had hit. She gave me a dozen. I was wiped. I hurt like holy hell. I was also furious, but I knew I had to keep my cool.

I was proven right. She unstrapped me and had me stand and she pulled up my panties because I was in pain and would have had trouble doing that. She also saw that I was erect, and she carefully adjusted the panties as she was taking them up to accommodate my bulge.

"You took that well, Harry," she said and smiled at me. "You think you're pretty cool, don't you, but you cried out plenty."

"It hurt a lot, Sergeant," I replied.

"It was meant to," she responded. "Now climb up on that plinth and lie on your stomach."

I did what she said and saw that she had a jar of cream. She took some on her fingers and very softly, and apparently expertly, massaged it into my battered ass cheeks. This made my erection harder, just feeling her hands on my bottom. As I told you, she was a real looker.

She told me to turn over on my back. I had learned not to question anything she told me to do, and to just do what she said. So, I turned over on my back.

She took a finger dabbed with a dollop of cream and softly began to rub it very very lightly up all sides of my erect cock. She grinned at me.

"You've heard what a bitch SGT Nicole is, Harry," she said smiling, "but you see now that I have more than one side." She kept gently massaging me from the base of my cock to the tip, focusing on the sensitive place under the helmet. Soon I spurted, right into her hand. She had a cloth handy and carefully wiped it off her hand and then wiped me off.

"All I can say is thank you, Sergeant," I said, trying not to be officious but friendly.

She told me I could stand up and leave the room.

That wasn't the end of it. SGT Nicole was as good as her word: she submitted a report, and it clearly went up the line because I received word from a courier that I was to report to the commandant's office on the double.

It was warm so being in a tee shirt and panties was not uncomfortable except for my embarrassment in appearing before the commandant so dressed. But I figured she was used to it: men in panties.

I walked into her outer office and told the woman sitting behind a desk who I was and that a courier had told me to report to the commandant on the double.

She said nothing but buzzed on her phone and just said, "He's here." I didn't hear the response, but she told me to go into CPT Helene's office.

I walked in and sitting behind the large desk was CPT Helene. I had noticed during her first-day talk that she was quite attractive, lean, and curvy too, with sandy blonde hair. I knew better than to stare.

"Sit down," she said.

"You insulted the therapist," she continued. "You're not here to take her on for her comments or diagnosis. Do you understand?"

"I think I do, Ma'am," I answered.

"I'm assuming SGT Nicole disciplined you, didn't she?" CPT Helene said.

"Yes, she did, Ma'am," I replied.

"If you don't want to be disciplined all the time and have your stay here extended, you will get with the program. Understand?" she went on.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said with concern.

"You should know that I know your wife well," she now said, as she smiled. "We were classmates at officers' school. I think the world of her."

"I truly appreciate that, Ma'am," I responded.

"I don't intend for you to get special treatment. You will not get it from SGT Nicole. She's the toughest barracks sergeant here and she doesn't like your wife," CPT Helene told me. "If I were you, I'd toe the line and you'll do just fine because she's a professional corrections officer."

"I will do one thing for you, however," she said. "If you ever feel that you are not being treated fairly, like everyone else, not just because someone whips or canes you hard, you can come to me, and I'll listen. In fact, I'll more than listen. Your wife once did me a very great favor that she probably has not told you about or hasn't yet. You've not been married long, have you? Right. I'm displeased that you apparently got her annoyed enough to refer you here. Please tell me what you did to get referred."

I was straight out and told her that Kate had said that because she was in the capital and her wife Glenda and I weren't, she had no problem with us going to bed together. But when she visited us, I made the mistake of getting in bed with Glenda when Kate, tired from her trip, was napping. She was furious when she found us en flagrante, I said.

"Yes, that was very bad behavior," CPT Helene said, "and you obviously hurt her. I do wonder if you realize how wonderful a person your wife is. She is just magnificent."

"I think I do, Ma'am," I answered, "because I knew I wanted to marry her the first time I met her."

"I assume you have learned, too, that SGT Nicole is not a friend of your wife's?" she went on.

"Yes, SGT Nicole told me that," I replied, "and she said that it would not affect how she treated me."

"I would expect no less from her," CPT Helene observed. "You're a good-looking guy, Harry. Were you spanked growing up?"

Although I resented this kind of question coming from her just as much as I had with the therapist, I figured I'd better answer.

"No, I was not, Ma'am," I said, "my parents did not believe in it."

"Probably too bad," she commented. "SGT Nicole will make sure you understand what life is like now. That's all, Harry. You may go now."