Sergeant's Submissive Dreams

"You don't have to do this if you don't want," he said.

"No, but I have to find out," I replied, taking a deep breath while he unsnapped the leash from the choker. I walked out into the sunlight, my attire (particularly the choke chain) garnering stares and outright leers from other pedestrians. I found out later that the sun was shining through my thin rayon dress, making my nude form beneath it - or at least the outline - visible to everyone.

The store clerk was a young boy - he couldn't have been more than fifteen - who grinned broadly as I explained what I wanted. He deliberately made me ask for each condom packet separately, and then he set them down at the back of the counter, forcing me to bend forward and expose my bare breasts to him. The little shit knew exactly what he was doing, and even asked me if I needed someone to practice putting them on. I just stood there, turning redder and redder, taking his abuse while he rang up my purchases. Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, turned around and marched out of the store.

Master - that's what I thought of him now - was waiting back where I'd left him. I tried to hand him the bag of condoms, but he shook his head and told me that a slut was responsible for carrying her own rubbers. He took me back down the alley - the leash back on now - and stopped at the rear door of a building which apparently faced the main street.

"There are 30 men inside," he told me. "You have 24 condoms. I don't think any of them have the clap or anything, but I can't be sure. You're going to make every one of them cum, and how you do it without getting pregnant or diseased is for you to figure out. This is your last chance to back out."

Oh, God, I was so scared that my legs were shaking. I'd never so much as taken two men at once, and now I was going to be gang banged by 30? Master told me later my face turned white, and he was scared that I'd pass out. He knew it was important for me to find out quickly, though, whether I was suited for something like this; as he put it, he wanted to find out if I'd break. I didn't, though. I steeled my resolve to go through with this by taking a couple of deep breaths, clenching my fists several times to relieve the stress, and simply walked through the door. I had to trust my Master that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.

As it turned out, there weren't thirty but six. Four men and two women. What happened outside had just been a test. The men were all like Master, biker-types but muscular, unlike the beer-bellied freaks you often see on Harleys. The girls were both petite and dressed alike, in short leather skirts and vests. The taller of the two held a leash attached to the smaller's collar, watching while her charge bobbed her head up and down, giving one of the men a blow job.

I was well and soundly fucked that weekend. I lost my anal cherry, and licked both my first asshole and my first cunt in between the near constant dicking I took. When I wasn't fucking, the dominant of the other two girls had me cleaning house; sweeping, mopping, washing dishes and cleaning toilets. I managed an average of four hours sleep each night I was with them; Master told me they were being easy on me so far, though I didn't see how that could be.

By the time it was over, I was hooked. I told him I wanted to become a slave, or at least a submissive - I knew the difference now. He said he didn't take submissives, only slaves, and that he couldn't in good conscience take me as his slave as things were right now. I wasn't ready, he explained; I'd only seen the nice side of things first. He did, however, tell me about a place he could arrange for me to visit to learn more. I'd be a slave there, but with the option to return to a "normal" life if I desired. If I could make it through six months, I'd be considered a potential slave. I quickly agreed, and he made the arrangements for me to go there immediately upon my discharge from the Army. If I successfully completed the training, I'd be auctioned off and become the property of the highest bidder. The auction proceeds - minus the cost of training and upkeep - would be put in a trust in my name. In the meantime, he told me, I could serve as his long-distance slave-in-training.

I returned to Kaiserslautern relaxed, unstressed, and though probably a little physically worse for wear, feeling as though the weight of the world had been taken off my shoulders. My decision was made, and I was about to embark on a new life for myself. What the future would hold was still unknown, except for one piece: Once the auction took place, I would never have to make a decision for myself again.

In accordance with my Master's instructions, I continued to go without panties, though he'd given me authorization to wear a bra and sanitary pad after I explained morning PT. It would be rather difficult for me to lead my platoon on our run, wearing a tee shirt with nothing on under, and would probably get me into trouble with my superiors. However, to pay for the privilege, whenever I was wearing a bra, I also had to have my butt plug inserted. That wasn't so bad most of the time, but have you ever tried making a three mile run with a nine inch latex tube shoved up your ass? Going braless was almost preferable.

I took an in-country ETS, rather than flying back to the states on a MAC flight and being discharged out of Ft Dix. There were a couple of reasons for this, but the main reason is that was what my temporary Master wanted.

I didn't leave Germany for a full week after I was discharged, and used that time to fulfill one of my Master's instructions, as well as a fantasy I'd had for some time. As usual, there was a going away party for me, and my entire platoon was given the weekend off to attend. Emptying out my savings - what would a slave need money for, anyway - I invited everyone to join me in Frankfurt, where I'd rented two adjoining suites near the airport. When everyone arrived, I offered them all drinks and then I explained that I had a video tape that I'd like them all to watch, and would answer any questions afterwards. I hit the play button on the remote as I exited into the adjoining suite, closing the door behind me. I listened silently for a moment, as the tape began to play, and heard the gasps and surprised murmurs as they watched.

The tape started with film of my abuse in San Francisco, being whipped, forced to fuck and suck cum from another girl's pussy, and finally begging to be pissed on. Then it moved on to my current Master performing a very detailed, painful and humiliating examination of my body, commenting for the camera on everything from the size of my nipples to the length of my clitoris. Finally, Master spoke directly to my platoon.

"As you an see, your Platoon Sergeant is quite the slut. My slut. She will soon be joining me full time, and once her training is complete, she'll be auctioned as a slave. Probably as a sex slave, either to some wealthy person, or more likely, to one of a number of high-class establishments catering to people who can afford to pay for the services of an absolutely obedient piece of female flesh. Of course, she could end up working on some farm, or sewing dresses in a Haitian sweat house, but if I had to bet on it, I'd say your former boss is going to be a whore.

"Since it's doubtful many of you will be able to afford her services - a single hour with a sex slave costs more than most soldiers make in a month - I have a gift for you. Actually, it is from her, but since I own her now, well, I think you get the idea. In the next room, my slave is waiting for you. Consider her your community property for the weekend. You may use her as you wish and do whatever you like to her, but she must not be permanently marked, disfigured nor damaged. Other than that, my only restriction is that she must be at the airport on time for her flight. I can personally attest to the fact that she is quite experienced with all three of her holes, and I'm sure she'd appreciate you using them thoroughly. Remember, though - no permanent damage, and she must not miss her flight."

A moment later, the pass door between the two suites opened, and my former subordinates found me kneeling naked on the floor, me head bowed submissively, a leash dangling from the leather collar around my neck.

One of my former Squad Leaders, older and more mature than the rest, was the first to speak.

"Are you certain this is what you want, Sergeant Anderson?" he asked with a concerned tone in his voice. I responded by crawling towards him and submissively kissing his foot.

"Yes, sir." I answered. 'It took me a very long while to understand what I was searching for, but I truly believe I've found my destiny. I believe you - my subordinate leaders and soldiers - helped make this possible, by doing your jobs so well and giving me time to discover myself by not having to intervene in the daily problems you faced. Because of that, I wanted to give you all something as a gift from my heart, to express my thanks. I will understand if any of you refuses my offering, but I hope you won't. This is the real reason why I took my discharge here - so I could offer the use of my body to you, without worrying about the implications of military regulations. I'm no longer a noncommissioned officer, I'm just another slut for each of you to use or abuse as you wish."

"Sergeant Anderson," the squad leader replied, "Whatever you are, and whatever you become, you'll never be 'just another slut.'

"Thank you sir," I responded, blushing.

"You're sure this is what you want? To be used like that by all of us?"

"Yes, sir," I replied again, the humiliation of my near-public admission causing my cunt to get even wetter than it already was.

"In that case, bitch," he cruelly sneered, "Don't you think you should get that slut mouth of yours to work on our cocks?" I screamed with my first orgasm of the day, the first time I'd ever cum without being touched.

What happened next is a blur. I do know that for the next twelve or so hours, there was seldom a moment when I didn't have a cock in my cunt, shoved up my ass or rammed down my throat - and sometimes had all three simultaneously. The fucking and verbal abuse went on and on until everyone - me included - was worn out and fell asleep.

The next morning I was awakened by having someone grab me by the hair and pull me up to my knees. I found my hands were bound behind me; someone had fortuitously brought a set of handcuffs. My eyes still blurry from the short nap and rude awakening, I found my head forced backwards, a cock hanging in front of my lips.

"Open, bitch!" a voice commanded. I recognized it as one of the squad leaders. I obeyed dutifully, and immediately found my mouth being filled with a harsh stream of acrid urine. "Nothing like a toilet slut first thing in the morning!" he said loudly, waking the others up. A line quickly formed, and soon my belly was swollen with the morning piss of my former subordinates. Then, after allowing me to rinse my mouth out with mouthwash, the fucking and abuse resumed.

The second night, one of the guys took the money from my purse and rented a couple of hookers. Not just any whores, mind you, but two who had just finished servicing a college party on another floor, and hadn't had an opportunity to clean up. Each of them were full with several loads of cum, and it became my job to prepare each of hem for their next Johns.

The boys suggested that they spread the word that there was a slut willing to paytwenty dollars for the privilege of sucking the loads of cum in their bodies. Soon, a steady stream of whores were showing up, shoving their semen-filled holes in my face, collecting their money and going out in search of another customer so they could repeat the process. Even when my money ran out, they kept coming back. I guessed I was getting to be a pretty good cunt-lapper.

All too soon, though, it was almost time for me to head to the airport. The boys let me shower, then each used their choice of holes one last time. Most took my ass, because they knew I'd be wearing a butt plug for the entire 20 hours, until I was back at my Master's residence. I wasn't allowed to shower after the last fucking, but by then I didn't really care whether I smelled of sex or had semen dripping down my thighs. Dressed in the clothes Master had sent me - a flower-pattern silk knee-length dress and sandals - they accompanied me as far as the security checkpoint. There, they all stood while I carefully waddled up the stairs. As I reached the top, I turned knelt on the floor, then blew my boys a kiss, wondering if I'd ever see any of them again.

The rest, as they say, is for another day. Perhaps I will write about it someday, perhaps not.

FIN