Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/patriot-up/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between adult and young-adult men. Much of the sex it coercive. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.
The Walker withdrew and without his presence, and with my continuing explosive climax, I could not contain the urine and cum he'd washed into me, all of it erupting in the same rhythm as my own orgasm. Red did smile, then, encouraging me in a loop of pleasure. When I was finally spent, he backed off and instructed the handler to clean me up. I sagged, too far gone to think, sucking in ragged breaths. I prayed to every Patriot god that the not-silent lungsful flooding in an out of me would not condemn me to a repeat, one I was certain I could never survive.
Patriot UP! 5 -- Full Beaver (Pussy) Moon
By Bear Pup
Red's voice was calm and implacable. "LT Bretton, please take your Walker back to his normal duties. On your way past, tell PersIntel Garcia that I will require a extra-small cunt-cage and a particularly-strong guard. Correction: Strong and merciless guard. Dismissed."
Strong. All Patriot guards were strong. Merciless. Merciless was the base state of all Patriots. To warrant having those two adjectives called out, whoever Garcia chose would be a monster by anyone's standards. I hung in my bonds, limp and still sucking in all the oxygen my body could capture. I didn't care -- no, that's a total lie. I cared so much that I could have, and wanted to, scream to the heavens. But I didn't have the physical strength to do so and had clamped down so hard that I denied myself the will.
There was a film, 2D, from long before any of us were born, but still a comic masterpiece. It was called Blazing Saddles and featured a character who, I swear to God and Providence, grunted forth behind me. "Third Guard Corp-uh-rull Mando, sir." The character was Mongo as in "Me Mongo!" and "Mongo no go. Mongo stay with Sheriff Bart." I willed myself to turn the appendage that used to be my head but was then simply a lump of bone and grey goo. Yep. Mongo. Except a Mongo that had OD'ed on steroids. A Mongo who liked sucker-punching horses and pushing buildings atop unsuspecting bad guys. A Mongo of nightmares.
Even Red's placid voice changed, slowed, as if his own internal control recognized that small words were now required. "Help me get Pro--, uh, help me get this man to my hutment." Red had spent a few minutes unclipping me, but even I was shocked as Mongo-or-Mando simply lifted my enormous bulk onto his shoulder with a barely-audible grunt.
"I carry, okay Manger-Cappin?"
"Uh, sure?" I would later laugh to myself at Red's response. I don't think I'd ever seen the stoic man so utterly impressed and shocked. He led the obscenely-huge hulk who carried my own enormous frame toward the hutment that held my own sleeping Patriot, Bobby O'Stallion.
The tableau that greeted us was... unique. At Red's direction, Corporal (or Corp-uh-rull) Mando set me on my feet. I shivered now that pain and then the heat-exhaust of the bulky man no longer warmed me.
Guard-Sergeant Proffitt was a glowing tower of gleeful vindictiveness. He overlooked the obviously-exhausted Private Carlisle as the boy dragged his feet up in a barely-discernable marching cadence whilst he wept like a girl, entire body quivering with exhaustion and pain. The boy's pale ass shone in the moonlight along with a livid constellation of weals and welts where the Guard Sergeant had just-barely not torn the skin with his whip.
"Well done Guard Sergeant Proffitt. You are relieved." The man's countenance dropped in some indefinable way, not something that could ever be called out for scrutiny. "At ease, Guard Sergeant. Cunt-pussy Carlisle will be assigned to you for training. Dismissed."
The feral glee in the man's face sent shivers down my spine and, I'm ashamed to say, quakes to my balls at the thought of what the hypermasculine man would bring to bear on the quivering and emasculated boy before us. "ACK, Manager Captain Schoen. Um, sir?"
Red had his stern face showing, but a glimmer of delight shone in his eyes. "Speak freely, Guard-Sgt."
"With all apologies, Manager Captain, for presuming, but, um...?"
Red growled, "I said speak freely. You heard me, right, Patriot?"
"Sir! Yes, Sir! I see you have a clit-lock. May I, sir, if it pleases you, fit it on this pissant pussy-whelp, sir?"
Red's face broke into one the evilest smiles I'd ever seen. "Knock yourself out, Patriot."
The man reached out with rough, callused hands and took the device. With movements that spoke of long practice, his thick fingers extracted the various parts. The guard shot a glance at Red, then bent swiftly and pulled a dried pine needle, one that was still twinned. If anything, Red's smile broadened. The guard's lethal bowie knife glinted briefly and the long parts of two needles feel back to the ground. I watched in abject horror as the guard tucked the rough, fibrous fascicle with two short stubs of sharp, dry needles into the cock cage just where the bottom of the boy's glans would end up.
"Pussy-Private Carlisle! Attention!"
The boy spun and shivered to something close to attention, his face bright red and pouring sweat, snot and tears. His legs quivered and spasmed with exhaustion and cramps.
"Guard-Sergeant Proffitt, attend to locking away that useless clit. And make sure the little bitch stays silent"
"ACK! Locking clit in silence! Sir! Yes, SIR!"
It was cold and I was shivering with it, but the kid was now quaking in gut-wracking horror as he watched the huge, rough guard who'd taken such pleasure in whipping him whenever the young Patriot slowed his marching-in-place torment. Mouth open like a scream deferred, he stared in dismay as the large man shoved most of his hand straight into the boy's gaping maw, fingers clearly pushing well past the gag point, then yanked downward so the youth couldn't look away from what was happening to the Private's privates.
The kid's eyes were enormous as the Patriot put the ring around the base of the boy's shriveled balls then drew through the locking studs, making sure to get a healthy number of straggly pubes caught in the process. With the absolute opposite of mercy, the large man drove the glans-cap, complete with pine torment, inexorably up and up until no trace of the shaft could be seen. With a rough twist that was utterly unnecessary, he crammed it the last of the way home and locked it in place.
With a ferocious grip, Proffitt used the cage as a handle and lifted the boy up by his horrifyingly-abused genitals and dragged him forward about ten paces before yanking his hand out of the kid's mouth and bending him forward. The Patriot knew what he was doing because every muscle in the kid locked instantly in an effort to disgorge every trace of substance from his guts, puking in a nonstop torrent of torment. When the kid thought he was done, Guard Sergeant Proffitt smacked his balls hard and forced the kid's face nearly into his own vomit. The boy resumed heaving until nothing was left, not even acid or phlegm.
The Patriot shoved his hand back into the still-spasming mouth and dragged the youth over, pulling upward with the hand in a way that forced the young man into a horrid caricature of 'standing at attention'.
"Manager Captain Schoen, sir! Presenting silent and clit-locked pussy for your inspection, SIR!" Silent was a bit of a misnomer as the boy was gagging violent around the fingers, but it was not particularly loud.
The Patriot held the key out to Red who smiled and said, "Pocket that, Sergeant. You'll need it whilst training this dog turd over the next month." Polar opposite expressions of a kid at Christmas and a kid pushed in front a speeding train erupted on the faces of the Patriot and the pussy he held.
Red moved around behind the kid and spoke directly in his ear, knowing that the Patriot's hand would prevent him turning toward the voice. And what a voice. Red could have dubbed a movie Satan with that voice. It dripped with venom that promised 'eternal damnation' was something the kid should start praying for as a blessed escape from what was about to become of his life.
"You saw me teach control to Provisional Human Bronco tonight, you worthless little cunt. Well, his lessons aren't over." My shivering redoubled at this, my freezing skin now matched with ice in my lungs and stomach. "Guard Corporal Mando," who hadn't moved from what might have been parade-rest and might have been sleeping upright, "will have to help us keep you silent as Bronco fucks you until dawn. Let me make myself clear, bitch. If you wake me up with a single noise tonight, just one, I'll assign you to bitch for Guard Sergeant Proffitt for a week before he starts to train you, and another for every other time you wake me. If you wake up Manager O'Stallion in any way, it will add a month. Are we clear?"
The kid just twitched violently, which Red took as assent. "Guard Corporal Mando, unzip your PASUs and get your cock out."
Mando grunted, "ACK! Cock. Out. Sir!" What emerged was about as gnarly as the man, but nowhere near the size I expected. It was a very thick slab about six inches at a guess since I couldn't see the base at all. It was also, oddly, hairy halfway up the shaft itself. He was chubbed a bit but not hard.
"Guard Sergeant Proffitt, trade your hand for his dick and you are dismissed." The Patriot bent the kid double and shoved the Corporal's cock into the shocked and still-gaping mouth, then stood, saluted smarty and strutted off, pleased as a pocketful or pennies.
"Guard Corporal Mando, I'll call you Corp for the night. Corp, keep that dick of yours in that mouth. Fuck it if you want, piss in it if you want, cum in it if you want; I don't fucking care. But you keep him gagged until I say otherwise. And don't make a sound until I send you off other than to acknowledge this order."
"ACK. Cock is gag. No sound. Sir." Jeez, this guy was a piece of work and no mistake. He locked one enormous paw on the kid's neck behind his head and made sure his cock was well-seated. The kid tried to cough and Mongo thwacked him hard with the other hand, silencing him.
"Bronco, you are to fuck this pussy-whelp non-stop until sunrise, about four hours from now. Your ass is not to stop moving for anything. Your cock is gonna get raw. I don't care. You're gonna run out of cum. I don't care. You're gonna pray for your balls to fall off. I. Don't. Care. Not a sound. Not a word. Not a grunt when you blow or a whimper when your cock is so sensitive you want to scream. Let me lay out the penalties, son. You stop fucking, we repeat tonight, top to bottom. You wake me up, we repeat tonight, top to bottom. You wake Bo--O'Stallion up, you'll bitch for Corp here during the day and repeat this night, every night for a week. Are we clear?"
I nodded silently. Red muttered softly to Mando-Mongo who reverse-frog-marched the cock-stuffed and clit-locked teen into the hutment as Red held the canvas door aside. Red pointed where he wanted Mando, then positioned pussy-boy froggy-style. He whispered in my ear, "Wait until I'm settled and Bobby is un-snoring," I could hear the smirk at his own acknowledgement of Bobby's vehement denial of all snore-related noises. "then fuck him. No spit for lube. Nod if you understand your instructions."
I nodded and moved into position as Red quietly stripped and got into his rack. Bobby turned over and grumbled a bit but never woke. When his I-don't-snore snore was back, I lined up my thick, uncut cock to what was very obviously a virginal young pucker. I pushed forward and the resistance was fierce and implacable.
This was not some sloppy cunt wet with pussy-juice. It wasn't even a well-used ass. It was an unused and dry asshole on a guy in his late teens, clenched with terror and dread. And I was supposed to wreck this ass? How? I reached down and realized that there was still some residual cum and even some cock-snot left inside my foreskin from my own, earlier release. I skinned back and wiped the moisture around the clenched starburst. I then pulled as much of my cock sleeve forward as I could stand and placed the whole wrinkly mass against the impossibly-tight opening.
I moved my far-larger body into position and nestled my mouth in the fold of the teenager's ear. In the softest whisper I'd ever tried to create, one that not even Corp could hear as he gagged the little bitch with his cock, I said, "If you push out like you're taking a massive dump, you might survive this. Work with me, bitch. If you clench like you are now, son, I'll still fuck you but am going to shred your ass. It might be so bad that you bleed out right here with dick pumping your pussy. At least I'll have your blood for lube. You'll certainly never heal right. Either loosen up not or never tighten up again in your life. I'll give you a moment to decide."
I pulled back and made sure I was still positioned perfectly. I felt the kid unclench, then even push back slightly. I reached forward, gripping the boy's skull with my left hand and plunged his face all the way into the unzipped PASUs, cock jamming into the kid's spasming throat as he tried to choke, then to scream. I punched forward into the insanely-tight chute, lodging about an inch in his gut and he writhed in pain, despair and increasing desperation for air.
I very slightly reduced the pressure on his skull, just enough that Corp's cock left the teen's throat and his nose could suck in some air, then pushed him back into the throat-lock, jamming another inch of my prong into the painfully-tight ass. My prick was screaming complaints about the rough, dry, too-tight sphincter. I bit down hard to override the sensations. My right hand was locked on his shoulder to maintain some leverage. I let him get used to it, at least somewhat, and repeated the scant-breath/ruthless-plunge process until I was balls-deep in the formerly-virginal canal. The double-ring of his sphincter spasmed and tightened over and over, a living cockring engorging my already-aching prick further than ever.
I pulled his head back and let him breathe around the Corp's log, but left my hand locked tight so I could plunge him back if I felt he might make the slightest noise. His entire body was wracked with sobs, but they were silent ones. I started to saw as gently as possible in and out and the teen lurched hard when I scraped my glans over what must have been his prostate. He had a surprisingly-large one, and it was obviously sensitive. The nature of his ass left no doubt that nothing whatever had touched his love nut before. This nightmare might be his first fuck, but (assuming he lived and wasn't permanently traumatized) it certainly wouldn't be his last!
He was still silently crying, but he was also starting to shudder with each pass over his love nut. Soon, he was actively wriggling to ensure that I was hitting that previously-unknown locus of pure pleasure. Apparently, he was also getting a lot more active at the other end. My hand at the kid's shoulder was wrenched northward and clamped firmly over the Corp's mouth and nose. When my paw was positioned to his satisfaction, He reached down with both of his and began to skull fuck the teen, deep enough into the throat that even the kid's ass was choking around my own dick.
The Patriot's Mongo-analogue thrust about six times before unloading, his massive body convulsing as he used my hand as a muffle. Not matter what kind of control he had, this muscle-monster still needed to grunt through his release. Since he had the kid's throat cock-blocked, I pulled the hand I'd been using to silence the boy to reach up and push hard against the massive man's Adam's apple. It worked, his grunts becoming near-silent chuffs as he hosed his load into the spasming throat of the youngster. It was damned hard to keep fucking the kid from that position, but I knew that Red had not been making idle threats.
Corporal Mando gently (more or less), moved the hand at his throat back to the kid's head, then peeled my right paw off his mouth and put it back where it had started, at the teen's shoulder. His mouth was stretched enormously as he silently sucked in breath after breath. He pulled the boy's skull back enough that the youth could breathe again, then shocked me by petting the back of my own neck like the tenderest lover might.
I looked up and found him smiling at me. It was the strangest sensation. This ginormous Patriot had just throat-raped the kid whose ass-cherry I was brutally shattering. Yet his smile and his petting hand was touching me deeply. He saw that connection and stroked up my jawline, then across my lips. I couldn't even guess what came over me, but I found myself kissing his palm gently as I humped harder and harder into the recently-virginal tunnel.
I felt more than heard the teen start to whimper and shoved him back onto the Corp's prick, earning an instantly-silenced gasp from the mammoth Patriot. The boy had hit his orgasm and was spewing his load in spite of -- or possibly because of -- the pine-needle addition inside his brutally-tight cock-cage, simultaneously sucking my cock with every muscle in his young ass. I grabbed the enormous paw I'd just kissed and clamped it to the back of my head as I buried my face in the kid's tender shoulder and bit down. Mando knew what I needed and pushed me hard into the writhing young body as I exploded inside his clenching, feverish, trembling ass.
I lay shuddering for a moment until Mando's hand went from pushing me into the boy's shoulder to smacking my head, hard. I realized just in time that I had stopped my thrusts in a clear violation of my standing fuck-orders. I returned, shudderingly and painfully, to my shattered rhythm. The ass that had so lovingly caressed me to orgasm had become a tiny sandpaper chute of misery to my now-hypersensitive glans. I yanked the giant's hand back to my head and again bit into the tender flash of the youth's shoulder.
The kid was not faring any better than I was. His ravaged hole, temporarily overridden by the pleasure of his anal cum, was presenting a host of outraged demands that his mind and body could not fulfil. He was weeping silently around the cock he nursed desperately to distract himself from the pain and humiliation of his first fuck. I had no sympathy for him... or for myself. We'd both earned what we were getting this night.
I found that my erection was flagging, but also that I needed a wicked piss. Like the Walker had a couple hours earlier, I let my urine stream into the cavity in which I was lodged. The kid realized what was happening and shook with fresh sobs of deep shame and horror, then the sobs were abruptly choked off. I looked up to the predatory smile that had replaced the gentleness of the giant's previous expression and I realized that the kid was getting piss-filled from each end.
The boy knew that it was swallow or die, and I think that took his mind off his abused and shriekingly-painful asshole. The piss I finally finished depositing there helped us both, though. It loosened his inner walls enough that it was no longer torturously-tight and bits of it and my cum backwashed enough to provide lubricant.
I'll give him this: he might have been suicidally-stupid and new to butt-fucking, but he was a horny little cunt. Even with the cock-cage, he dropped another two loads and pulled two more each out of me and Corporal Mando before Red rose just before dawnlight. Red had been right, my cock felt like hamburger dipped in rubbing alcohol and my balls were screaming with pain. He leaned down and growl-whispered into my ear, "Keep both ends plugged and get that pussy-boy outside and behind the hutment." He strode off and I managed to eye-semaphore the instructions to the mountainous Patriot at the other end of the kid.
You know, porno movies and suchlike make things like our orders sound easy. It was a serious pain in the ass, especially the kid's ass, as we wrestled ourselves up as silently as possible. Bobby was in his don't-make-me-get-up snoring mode and I knew that he wouldn't have heard an elk bellowing in his ear, but Red's orders were incredibly specific and his vengeance was not to be tested. We got the boy behind the hutment, just barely avoiding one or the other of us slipping out of an orifice, then... stopped.
I mean, here I was, nekkid and ass-plugging a scrawny, raggedy-Andy-limp, silently-weeping kid and this impossibly-large Patriot in full PASUs was balls-deep in the other end. We just stood there, stupidly, as the camp came to life. Patriots walked past, yawning and invariably scratching their nuts or pulling on piss-hards. Other than a few leers and crotch waggles, they seemed to see nothing amiss in the tableau.
Red returned and smiled at the sight. He was followed by Guard Sergeant Proffitt, trembling with lust and anticipation, holding two massive jugs of water and a hose. Red spoke quietly but firmly. "Follow me, gentlemen." He stepped a dozen paces away into a clump of undergrowth and we manhandled the kid there as well.
"Guard Corporal Mando, return at dinner. Until then you are dismissed and off duty per your sergeant's direct orders. Shower and sleep, Patriot. Well done."
"ACK! Back at Din-ner. Thank-oo Manger Cappin, sir!" He pulled back, zipped up, and walked off. As soon has his cock was out of the boy's mouth, the kid began to puke violently, a massive volley of throat-slime, piss and cum. I literally thought the contractions would break my dick off, but I said nothing and locked his hips to mine.
He barely got a moan out after the last heave before, with absolutely no ceremony or tenderness, Proffitt shoved the hose into the youth's throat and pushed hard on the side of the jug. I felt the teen's belly distend before the hose was yanked back and the puking resumed in violent force.
The Sergeant switched the hose to the other jug as Red said, "Well done, Bronco, and I mean it. Be warned, when you pull back it's gonna be a mess. Guard Sergeant Proffitt will rinse you down, then take care of the cunt. Afterwards, you need to throw on some PTs and get showered. Come back to the hutment for further orders. Step back now, Provisional Human Bronco."
My voice was as hoarse as gravel with disuse and clamping down on screams and groans, and I was so tired my legs were trembling with the effort of staying upright, but I wasn't completely stupid. "ACK! Step back, rinse, dress, shower, return. Thank you, Sir!"
I stepped back and it was precisely as messy and vile as you'd expect. The kid, still hunched, started dry-heaving at the stench. Proffitt hosed me down generously with, I was shocked to find, warm and sudsy water. With no ceremony or apparent interest, he manipulated my cock and balls to ensure I was relatively cleansed before swapping the hose onto the cold-water container. He shoved it up the kid's ass without a speck of concern and started to douche the heaving kid. He'd yank it out and rinse the kid's quivering body with the icy water before repeating the entire process several times.
I watched in abject horror as the gruff guard pulled a literal diaper out of his cargo pocket and swaddled the mortified kid who was still dribbling from the last ass-flush. The leakage showed clearly as if screaming for attention in the thin cotton nappie. After attaching ludicrously-large safety pins (in garish pink no less), Proffitt shoved a whorish-red binkie in the kid's mouth and growled, "Not a word, pussy. Your shredded PASUs are in a pile next to the door. Take them straight to the Quartermasters. Explain to the quartermistress, in detail, what you did to get them in that state and ask her for a set of PTs. Other than that speech, the binkie does NOT come out and the diaper does NOT come off. Return here when you're done. Dismissed. DISMISSED!"
Crimson with humiliation and gnawing dread, the boy (even more-pronounced as the saggy, damp diaper robbed him of a decade, leaving what looked for the world like an eight-year-old who'd mysteriously sprouted underarm hair) scampered off at speed.
Red patted my shoulder and said in a shockingly-kind voice, "Off you go, Bronco." I nodded spastically, stepped into the hutment for a pair of PT shorts and shirt and followed Patriots to what had to be the head and the showers. I shook myself as I realized I'd only been at Patriot Base Alpha less than twenty hours. I stumbled into the massive canvas shower structure and zombied my way through a thorough, desperately-needed shower. I dried with shockingly-fluffy towels -- what a difference from the camp! -- and used the very dregs of my strength to return to the hutment.
Guard Sergeant Proffitt was at parade rest outside the door and nodded to me with a grim smile. I ducked in and found a heavily-tousled Bobby glaring with open fury at a completely unruffled Red. Bobby spun to face me and practically spit out, "What the fuck happened last night Coo--Bronco, whatever the fuck your name is?!"
I turned to Red and with a flat and level voice, "Permission to speak freely, Patriot?"
"Granted." There was some wry amusement in his eyes.
I turned back to Bobby. "Seven Manager O'Stallion, sir."
I swayed a bit and found Red's hands on my shoulder. "Sit down before you fall down, son. That's an order." Without really planning to, I found myself sitting on Bobby's rack.
I looked up at 'my' Patriot's furious face and spoke in a calm, level voice. "Yesterday afternoon, I made several suicidal mistakes and Manager Captain Schoen, instead of fragging me as I very much deserved and expected, wasted his own down-time teaching me what I needed to learn."
"And what the FUCK does that mean? What mistakes?" Bobby was not an idiot and I gave him a look that clearly indicated he wasn't faking stupidity well.
"As a piece of Walking Loot, I challenged and spoke back to a vastly-superior officer. Later, after being upgraded to a Provisional Human, I struck a Patriot in front of his superior officer and upbraided him, twice, in front of said officer. After you left, I asked said officer to gut me as I knew I was forfeit--"
"YOU WHAT?"
"I asked Manager Captain Schoen to frag me so you wouldn't have to," I raised my voice to get Bobby to stop spitting and sputtering, "because it was your duty as a Patriot to do so, but I asked him to do it before you got back. He refused and chose not to remind you of that duty for reasons I do not understand. After you racked, he took me across the camp and explained just how much danger I was to you and to him. I asked him to frag me again after he explained. He again refused and, instead, wasted his rack time to teach me silence, teach me control, and teach me how to stop putting you and him in direct peril, which I was stupid enough to have done repeatedly."
I turned to face Red directly. "And I will continue to ask him the favor of gutting me if I keep fucking up. If he refuses, I'll ask another Patriot. I put you at risk, Bobby. And I swear before God and Providence I'll put myself down before I do it again."
Before Bobby could speak (he looked more likely to explode), there was a knock at the hutment's wall. From the other side and very nervous Guard Sergeant said in a quick, tight voice, "I am extremely sorry to disturb you, sir, but you, um, might want to be prepared? That dog turd is coming back, dressed, and trailing a fuming volcano called Quartermistress Frankland."
"Bronco! Quick. There's chocolate on that shelf. Dose the coffee with it and add cream from the cooler. Now, son!"
I had just finished the task when the Sergeant's frankly scared voice whispered, "Um, Captain? What do you..."
His voice shriveled and died as we heard an older woman's grating shout. "Schoen! You in there? Come out this instant!" Bobby quailed and instinctually backed into the corner of his rack and tried to make himself extremely small.
Red stepped to the canvas door and pulled it aside. "Guard Sergeant Proffitt, please escort Quartermistress Frankland into my hutment and get her a cup of java, please."
The terrifying old woman, the same who'd provisioned me the morning before, was if anything angrier than her voice had made it seem. "You are not going to coffee your way out of this one, you filthy bastard." She took the proffered cup, though, and her nostrils went wide at the delicious scent. "What did you do to my grandson?"
I locked into Proffitt's horrified gaze as it sunk in for both of us. He'd stripped, shame-paraded, force-marched and ass-whipped the grandson of the scariest woman I'd ever seen. I then dry-fucked his virgin ass for about four solid hours while cock-gagging him on Gigantor. Proffitt had proceeded to douche, diaper and plug the mouth of that same grandson with a baby-binkie and sent him out through a camp full of Patriots, some of the evilest and least-merciful people on earth. The sergeant's eyes were starting to roll backwards and his Adam's apple looked like a bobblehead doll.
Red got the woman seated in a chair and pulled one down for himself. His voice dripped ice and that obviously took the woman aback. "What did he tell you?"
She turned her fury on the boy who was trying desperately to look in any direction that did not include a tormenter or grandmother. The entire set of options for that were his shoes. She turned back to Red. "He was working Medical for PersIntel, which I was never told. He was assigned to you and, even though he did every single thing you asked, you had some monster shred his clothes, torture him and then, for hours, someone else did something he can't even tell me, then you ordered that he be humiliated in front of everyone."
She was huffing like a bull and Red simply purred in a cold and silky voice. "He appears to have omitted several important details, miss. He neglected to mention that he questioned me at every step, refused to acknowledge any orders whatsoever, and even argued with a direct order from me."
"HE WHAT?!?" The shriek was literally painful to my ears. Bobby quailed and even the hyper-tough Proffitt flinched hard. Only Red was unfazed.
Red continued, voice freezing the air of the hutment. "And, after pissing her pants like an infant and bawling like the girl she obviously is underneath, she tried to evade and run away from a Patriot who had been given an order about her punishment. Since she seems shy about the details, I'll fill some in. She was told to march in place for a couple hours, not exactly torture, and she got her ass whipped once for each time she disobeyed that very simple order. Show your grandmother your ass, you lying little tattletale bitch!" When the boy didn't move, Red nodded at Proffitt who spun the kid, whipped the pants down and tore the shirt up and off.
"Those welts, ma'am? That's how many times this little pussy stopped marching in spite of direct, explicit order." The woman's eyes blazed in fury, both at the boy's failings and his attempt to use her to get out of the punishment. "Turn her around, Guard Sergeant. She doesn't deserve a cock, so her boy-clit has been caged until she earns it back." Grandma Incandescent Fury gasped at the sight of her grandson's tiny button of a cock-cage.
"She was instructed to be absolutely silent and was even given the assistance of a cock to keep her quiet. Even with that, your granddaughter came like a whore from getting fucked -- a fucking she more than deserved -- while sucking on a cock so loudly she woke me up once. This morning, she was washed up and out, diapered to keep her cum-dripping back pussy from polluting Patriot Base Alpha, and sent to the Quartermaster's territory for PTs since no whining little cunt deserves to be urinating in her panties under a set of Patriot PASUs."
This implacable and stone-cold litany complete, Red sat back. "Do you have any other questions, quartermistress?"
She swallowed and found her voice, eyes blazing. "Yes. Why isn't the lying little bitch currently acting as a training aid for PersIntel, Manager Captain?" The boy's head snapped up and he quailed from the incredible rage in his former-protector's eyes.
"Fair question. In point of fact, I have assigned Guard Sergeant Proffitt here to train her back to the point where she earns a dick and, possibly, gets a chance at a second Blood Moon."
"If he lives that long," she muttered. "I cannot believe that my daughter whelped anything that stupid." She turned to Guard Sergeant Proffitt, "Son, you give this little turd one inch of room to fuck up and I'll take a very personal interest in your future. Turn him.... no, turn HER into a Patriot in any and every way you need to. If anyone gives you a hassle, send them to me."
"No, ma'am!" Red's voice was sharp and quick. "You already stuck that pointy little nose into my shit once today. I will NOT be fucked with by anyone, not even you. And if you ever, ever shout my name in front of my men, I will personally request that Patriot Grandmother scrag your ass back to mopping latrines in sick bay. Are we clear?"
They locked eyes for a minute before she lowered her gaze. "We're clear, Manager Captain. You have my sincere and total apology. Thank you for the mocha-latte. Please, um," she hesitated, something that I think was rare indeed, "take care of my grandson. Make him a Patriot and a proud one. You'll have no more... trouble from me, Patriot. May I take my leave?" Red nodded and she strode out.
"Guard Sergeant Proffitt, bitch this piece of shit for a week for waking me up as she moaned like a slut around the cock she was sucking. Then add a MONTH for her stunt this morning. If your balls get dry, let me know and I'll send reinforcements. Bronco will bring you the dog bowl and what food I'll allow her. Do not waste potable water on the bitch and feel free to let your team know she is their latrine for the duration. After that, you train her until she earns a dick, then train him into a Patriot. And like its grandbitch, I will take it very personally if that piece of filth gets one toe out of line. By next Blood Moon, you have him ready. Until then, the cunt is yours and your personal responsibility."
He crowed with vindictive joy as he intoned, "ACK! Bitch the pussy five weeks. No potables and P. H. Bronco brings food. Make her a him, and him a Patriot by Blood Moon. Sir, yes, SIR!"
"Oh, and swing by PersIntel Garcia and tell him I asked you to pick up a tube of gel SenzAll. Rubber up and use it for lube for the next week. And use it any other way that strikes your fancy. Any way at all."
"SIR! YES! SIR!"