“Go to hell,” you say. You’re not scared one bit of this brute and her cane. What neither of these women know is that you’ve had Terra on your ass for a while now, and she might not be built quite like Guard Grisham, but she’s made your ass burn like hell before. Whatever this woman has in store for you, you can take it if you have to – not that you plan to.
“Teach that academy brat a lesson,” Officer Surnow snaps. Her lips have puckered so much she looks like she’s sucking lemon.
Grisham strides across the room to grab you, but you’re not in the mood to be grabbed. You duck under her outstretched arm and she curses as she misses you. “Get back here!” Continue reading
An hour later, you’ve been proved right about the lack of sleep. As soon as the sirens die down you’re hauled out of bed and dragged before the officer in charge of what has turned out to be a not very effective military prison facility. From what you can gather, the last anyone saw of Sarah she was whizzing her way over the forest to the East in a light craft she managed to steal after knocking out a small swathe of guards.
The officer, named Surnow, seem to think you know something about that.
“Tell us where she is,” Officer Surnow demands. She’s a wiry looking woman with hair scraped back into a tight bun. She has scowl lines all over her face, as if she’s been pissed off for decades, and there’s something mean in her eyes. You instinctively hate her.
“You climb up to the top bunk if you want to lie down,” you say. “I’m good here.”
Sarah looks at you, her eyes narrowing for a second. Then she cracks a smile and laughs. “You’re funny,” she says. “You know I could make you climb up there if I wanted.”
You say nothing. Sarah can flex if she wants. You don’t have to play along.
“So you’re okay with this,” she says, changing the subject. “Terra locks you up and you don’t care?”
“I care,” you say. “But what can I do?”
“Get angry,” Sarah says. “Stop being complacent and thinking everything is fine. Because it isn’t. Terra isn’t who you think she is. She isn’t nice, except when it gets her what she wants…” she sighed. “Fuck it, no point telling you anything. You’re not going to listen.”
“I’m listening,” you say. “You’re just not saying anything interesting. You’re just whining like usual.”
Sarah stops and stares at you. “Are you trying to get me to beat you?”
You submit to the guardswoman and allow yourself to be taken away, following after Sarah and her guards down a set of stairs which lead from the landing pad down into the fort.
You risk a glance at Terra and see nothing but a hard expression on her face, as if she’s trying to be as unyielding and unfeeling as possible. A second later, she disappears from view as you and Sarah descend into the warren like structure of the base. You’re led wordlessly through hall after hall, down stairs and around corners until finally you arrive at the cells. They’re not pleasant to look at. The one you and Sarah are bound for is about six feet by six feet, contains two bunks and a toilet behind a half-wall. The door is a thick metal plate monstrosity with two slots in it. This is grim.
After an hour or two, the fort comes into view. It is a cold and imposing structure, built on a natural island in the middle of an acidic lake. Its towers are tall and its walls thick. The only way to reach it is by air, as the lake disintegrates almost every kind of craft within seconds. You know this, because you know every unclassified base on the continent. You find yourself almost excited as the helichopter crosses over the walls and heads toward the landing pad. Then you remember that Terra intends to put you in a cell for the night and your heart sinks like a stone. You get that she’s angry you disobeyed orders and went through her things and took a sword and… well, now you list it all like that, the cell makes sense. If someone else was in charge of your unit. Not Terra. You expect Terra to handle you differently, more… physically. More intimately, for sure. She’s never sent you away from her before. Certainly never locked you up. Continue reading
Before you can make much of a decision either way, Sarah darts forward and slaps the back of your hand hard enough to make you drop the sword. As soon as your fingers open, she sweeps the guard into her own hand, twists and presents the sword to Terra, one hand under the guard, the other under the flat of the blade. Terra takes it with a nod of thanks as you rub the stinging, aching back of your hand. Continue reading
As you pick the sword up, wrapping your hand around the grip, you feel a soft sigh run through you. It is a sensation of satisfaction which seems to come from the sword itself. It’s not as heavy as you had imagined it would be, and it feels good in your hand, perfectly weighted so the blade is not dragging your arm down.
This is obviously not Academy issued. This is very, very old. Older than the colonies themselves, maybe. This looks like something that might have been made back on the original Earth. If it is, that means it is worth millions. So why does Terra have it in a tent in the middle of nowhere? And why does it feel so perfect in your hand?
Before you know it, you find yourself wandering away from the camp, swinging the sword, admiring how it arcs through the air with a singing sound which thrills you to the very core of your being.
Terra and Sarah are already making their way across the plain, heading for the forest. You are left behind, watching impotently as the super soldier and the leader of your unit stride off to rescue Boris. Nobody checks to see if you are doing as you are told. They are too busy to pay attention to you, the third wheel in their rescue mission. Well, the joke is on them because three wheels can be really useful sometimes.
If you’re going to follow after them, you’re going to need to be prepared. You don’t have any weaponry of your own, but you’re guessing Terra bought spares. You start going through the bag she bought, which is sitting at the end of the bed. It’s technically wrong to be doing this, but you’re doing it for a good reason, so that probably makes it okay. Your butt is still aching from Terra’s attempt to ‘make you feel better’. Next time she offers to make something better, you’ll remember not to take her up on it. You have learned something from the ordeal over her lap, though it’s probably not what she intended for you to learn. Continue reading
Some shady figure inside the Academy administration has leaked a sensitive document. It’s up to you whether you look at it or not, though it may be useful information to have as events continue to unfold.
Click here to view the leaked file… Continue reading
Taking a little break from updating as I’m helping this princess who has been fighting a bad guy for a HUNDRED years while her snoozy boyfriend sleeps in a cave… the stories will return shortly 🙂
In the meantime, purchasing any book here contributes directly to Loki’s Zelda Amiibo fund.
There can really only be one answer given Terra’s expression and the state of your bottom, which is going to be unsittable for some time.
“Yes ma’am,” you mumble.
“Good,” she says. “You can pull your pants back up, cadet. It is getting late and we have an early start in the morning.”
“That’s it!?” The words burst out before you can stop them. “You said you were going to make me feel better after… before…” you hesitate to recount the way she thrashed you earlier, though she left your bottom in better shape then than it is now. “This isn’t fair!”
She starts spanking you, her palm landing hard on your bottom with a wicked sting. This is no sensual exploration. This is the spanking she promised you, long and hard and making your bottom swell with an ache you can barely stand.
“Ow! Cut it out!” You protest in squeals and gasps.
“I warned you, cadet,” she says. “I told you I wanted to spank you hard. I gave you a chance to reduce it, but you decided to disobey, didn’t you.”
The worst thing about the harshness of the spanking is that your pussy is still wet, your clit still throbbing. Your crotch is grinding against her legging clad thigh, your juices slicking the fabric as her palm meets your bottom with merciless whack after whack. Continue reading