Barrack Room Betty

By Michele Nylons

Chapter Six – A Turn For The Worse

And so the Wrens and Leading Recruits settled into a routine. They knew that if they just spent their days jollying, drinking, having sex, and carousing that HMS Chelmsford would soon deteriorate into a shitfight, so they agreed to apply some discipline and stick to strict routines.

The Royal Navy has run on routines from time immemorial; the day is divided into watches separated by the sounding of the bells, the routines of colours and sunset, and determining which rig is to worn, dress of the day or night clothing, and so forth.

As much as the Wrens loved wearing silky knickers, sussies, and high-heels they were impractical to work in, and they decided that dress of the day would be Number Threes, navy blue skirts and jackets, white blouses, ties, full-cut panties, tights and black shoes. Makeup would be minimal but still worn. This rig was more practical while they went about their daily routines of inspecting, cleaning, and making minor repairs to the Establishment and even though Doris could wear cook’s whites in the galley if she wanted to; she seldom bothered to change and cooked in her Number Threes.

The four men were a little disappointed but soon realised the practicality of Michele’s mandate, the Wrens still looked femme but not as alluring as they did after dinner when they relaxed the dress rules and wore heavy makeup, stockings, heels and silky lingerie. If the girls dressed like that during the day nothing would get done!

Another unwritten law was that they never spent the night together. As Michele advised her three charges, men loved going to bed with a sexy effeminate transvestite, but waking up next to her with her wig askew, makeup dissipated, and needing a shave (despite the fact none of them really had much more that light fuzz for facial hair) did not bode well. Best to keep up the fantasy. Michele helped her three protégé’s as much as she could, teaching them makeup tips, borrowing lingerie and nightwear from the Wrens block, always carefully noting where she had taken it from so that it could be returned before the ROP ended. She even taught them the unpleasant but necessary procedure for douching.

By mutual agreement Spike even promoted Michele to Leading Recruit Wren as she was the obvious leader of the four ‘Wrens’.

And so a routine was enacted, the Wrens were just ‘grommets’ during working hours, keeping the depot ticking over with the begrudging assistance of the Leading Recruits. But after dinner the girls and guys met up in the wets and paired off, drinking and laughing until eventually lust got the better of them and they went their separate ways to sate their desires.

This all worked well and the four couples bonded and got closer as they spent more time with each other.

But all good things must come to an end.

Five days before Christmas, Petty Officer Knocker White woke up hungover, sweaty, dirty and hungry. He’d been living in the Duty Instructor’s cabin at the recruit school now for two weeks living on Newcastle Brown Ale, Captain Morgan Rum and the odd Pussers scran.

Spike had made sure that his Barrack Room Bettys remained a secret. One of the Leading Recruits bought Knocker his meals and took away the crockery when he had finished, although often the meals were hardly touched; left outside the door of the cabin in a congealed mess of gravy and mashed potato.

Knocker was not even sober enough to realise that a Leading Recruit was bringing him his meals when it was obvious that the bullies should just detail off a ‘grommet’ to do such a menial task.

And so on that fateful day PO White staggered out of his cabin, hungry and unwashed, reeking of stale beer, he made his way to the galley to raid the fridge. Jason and Michele should have heard the cabin door open and close, as it was just down from the Regulating Office but they were out and about conducting rounds, making sure the depot was being maintained.

Dressed only in his greatcoat, filthy underwear and boots without socks, Knocker staggered across the snow-strewn partition between the buildings with the intention to raid the galley fridge and scurry back to his cabin with whatever food was available.

He crashed through the back door to the galley, a snow flurry following him though the door. Doris, her back to the door preparing lunch, felt the icy blast.

“Close the fucking door will you; that cold air is blowing right up me skirt!” she squeaked in the falsetto she had developed since she had started crossdressing.

Knocker was stunned. What was this plump young Wren doing in the galley? They were supposed to be on leave.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” Knocker growled.

Doris spun on her heels, her pretty face a mask of shock and horror.

“Oh my god! It’s Petty Officer White!” Doris whimpered.

Knocker strode across the galley and roughly grabbed the Wren cook, gawking at her with disbelief, breathing a fetid odour of stale beer and halitosis into her startled face. He stared at her intently for a beat until the penny dropped.

“Oh my fucking god you’re a tranny! A fucking Kai Tai Wren! Those fucking conniving kellicks have turned one of the grommets into a barrack room Betty!” he laughed.

He held Doris out at arm’s length and surveyed her.

“And a decent fucking job they’ve done of it too! You ain’t half bad.”

“I might have had a chequered career but I’m no sea dodger and I’ve been to South East Asia a few times and fucked my share of Kai Tais and lady boys. I’ve also been to Pink Pussycats in town and picked up the odd tranny there too.”

Doris was too shocked to move; she was aware that Knocker had her in a vice-like grip and took in some of what he was saying; they’d all heard tales of sailors fucking ‘Kai Tai’ transvestites when deployed to South East Asia. She was also vaguely aware that ‘Pink Pussycats’ was a club in Chelmsford frequented by crossdressers and their admirers.

“Yes you’re quite the pretty little chubette aren’t you girly? What’s your name?”

“Doris,” she whimpered.

“Well Doris; why don’t you leave making scran for a while and take care of this instead,” Knocker grinned through his rotten teeth.

To Doris’ horror Knocker pulled her close to him and drew her hand inside his greatcoat and placed it on his gnarled cock whilst lowering his scraggy face and closing his lips to hers. Doris shuddered but was helpless. Knocker plunged his tongue into her mouth and she gagged on his fetid breath. His free hand went to her ample buttocks and squeezed them cruelly as he pulled her against him.

His thickening penis protruded from his putrid underpants and rubbed against Doris’ slack fingers as he ground against her.

“Come on Doris put a bit of effort into it!” Knocker closed her fingers on his phallus and thrust against her.

His face closed on hers again and he forced his tongue into her mouth but Doris was still too traumatised to respond.

“Oh you’re fucking hopeless!” he growled

Knocker shook Doris who was as limp as a rag doll in his arms.

“I’ll fucking-well wake you up!”

Knocker dragged Doris over to the counter, bent her over and hiked up her skirt exposing the dark gusset of her tights and her white full-cut knickers.

Doris began to struggle and flail around; her generous buttocks wriggling and gyrating as she tried to squirm free of his grip. Knocker’s free hand scrambled around the counter, then he grinned evilly as his fingers closed on a wooden spoon.

He flailed the wooden spoon against Doris buxom bottom.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh fuck that hurts!” Doris wailed.

“Shut up Doris!” Knocker leered as he paddled her bum.

Doris was sobbing with pain and humiliation and then to her horror she felt Knocker pull down her tights and knickers, exposing her creamy white globes, which were now glowing red where he had spanked her.

He tossed the wooden spoon and spanked her plump bottom with his bare hand, cruelly scrunching his fingers into her tender flesh after every few strokes. His cock was now throbbing and dribbling clear pre-seminal fluid, he was so excited he thought he might climax in his underpants if he didn’t do something soon.

“I’m going to put me cock between your pink cheeks and fuck your fat arse but first I’m going to get some head!” Knocker snarled.

He pulled Doris off the bench and pushed her to her knees, sobbing and tremulous, her skirt around her waist and her knickers and tights bunched around her thighs.

Knocker grabbed Doris by the ears and forced her face towards his groin; his repulsive phallus poking from his underwear, his greatcoat opened wide.

Doris was sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, absolutely disgusted and full of dread as the rancid member wobbled inches from her face.

“Here we go girly,” Knocker thrust forward his pulsing penis sliding over Doris’ lipsticked lips.

“Leave her alone you fucking bully!” Michele screeched as she burst through the galley door.

Knocker’s head twisted in Michele’s direction, at first shocked, and then he smirked and roughly pushed Doris’ face from his groin. She fell to her hands and knees, sobbing on the grimy galley deck.

“Well what have we got here? A nice sexy young Wren, wearing a Leading Recruit’s lanyard! Must mean you’re more accomplished than this porker,” Knocker cruelly poked Doris with the toe of his boot.

“Now get over here and suck my cock before I lose my temper!” he growled.

“Leave the galley Doris!” Michele ordered.

“But Michele…” Doris protested.

“Leave the galley and come back in twenty minutes to finish cooking scran,” Michele said, soothingly this time.

Doris hiked up her underwear and tights and scrambled out the door and Michele locked the galley and sauntered over to the PO whose cock was still sticking out of filthy underwear.

“Ok, it’s just you and I now Knocker,” Michele stared at him defiantly.

“Ok girly, if that’s how you want it, you’re better looking than Doris anyway. And it’s Petty Officer White to you not Knocker!” he sneered.

“Oh, if it’s ok for me to suck your cock; I’m sure I can call you Knocker,” Michele scoffed.

She dropped to her knees before him, took a deep breath, and suckled his scabrous phallus. She gagged from the vile taste of sweat and smegma and the repellent stench emanating from his crotch.

Michele knew he wouldn’t last long so she set her resolve and slavered at his tumescent penis and lifted a hand to stroke his scrotum.

“Oh my fucking god that’s good!” Knocker crooned.

He rocked on his heels and fucked Michele’s face. He soon felt his climax approaching and he whipped his cock out of Michele’s mouth and dragged her to her feet.

“No!” Michele screamed but to no avail.

Knocker threw her against the counter winding her; then he spun her around and bent her over, pinning her face down on the bench. He yanked up her skirt and ripped down her knickers and tights, his fingernails leaving welts on her buttocks and thighs. He kicked her heels apart, forcing Michele to open her legs and then she felt him behind her. His cock hard and hot against her cold pale flesh as he sought out her puckered bud.

Knocker thrust the glans of his thick, turgid member into Michele’s tight buttocks and she screamed and stamped her feet attempting to free herself. Knocker held her face against the counter top with one hand and slapped her buttocks as hard as he could with the other.

“Keep still you fucking Nancyboy!” he hissed.

As hard as he pushed, even with his cock leaking precum, he couldn’t get it past Michele’s impenetrable sphincter. Michele was still struggling and Knocker was puffing with exertion. Then he saw a pat of butter, in arms-reach, next to a floured breadboard. Knocker stuck his fingers in the butter and greased his erection, pushing the remains on the butter pat into Michele’s puckered anal cavity.

Michele knew what was coming and she took a deep breath and hung onto the bench as she felt Knocker’s cock probing at her behind.

The pain was tremendous as he pushed his pulsing penis deep into Michele’s bowels until he was in her up the hilt; his crotch crushed against her soft buttocks. Despite the searing pain Michele resolved she would not cry. She panted and heaved as Knocker pounded his long, thick phallus in and out of her, brutally bruising her delicate anus.

“How do you like that, you fucking barrack room Betty,” he grunted as he fucked Michele viciously.

Michele gritted her teeth knowing he wouldn’t last long and in act of defiance she pushed back against him and wriggled her buttocks.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she hissed through gritted teeth.

That was enough to send Knocker over the top and he gripped her hips and pulled her hard against him as he emptied his scrotum deep inside Michele’s anus. He held the lovely young Wren tight as he ground against her and howled as her tight passage convulsed and milked him of his seed.

His passion spent he whipped his deflating penis from Michele’s anus and flung her to the floor. He wiped his buttery cock with a dishtowel while he watched the pitiful young Wren get to her knees, holding in a gasp of pain as she stood and pulled up her knickers and tights.

“Fuck that wasn’t bad,” Knocker sniggered lifting Michele’s chin.

She stared back at him shamelessly, holding back tears of pain and humiliation.

“How many of you grommets have those fuckheads turned into Bettys anyway?” Knocker inquired.

Michele knew where this was going.

“Here’s the deal PO. You now know what’s going on but if you report it you will get into as much trouble as we all will and probably more because you’re supposed to be in charge,” Michele seethed.

Knocker was about to explode but Michele shut him up. She moved in close so he could smell her perfume, feel her body, and look into her beautiful blue eyes. She kissed him chastely and patted his limp cock.

“I’ll come to your cabin every day at 1100 and you can do whatever you want to me. But! You leave the other Wrens alone and you don’t let the leading Recruits know I’m servicing you. It’s our secret until after ROP.” Michele squeezed his cock again and kissed him sliding her tongue into his mouth, then she abruptly pulled away.

“What about Doris? The fat one?” Knocker grumbled.

“I’ll make sure she keeps her mouth shut,” Michele assured him.

“And I’ll make sure you keep yours open!” Knocker visualised his sick joke by shaking his penis at her.

Knocker grabbed a loaf of freshly baked bread and a jar of strawberry jam off the counter and jammed them into the pockets of his greatcoat. He buttoned the coat and then looked viciously at Michele.

“You better stick by your deal or I’ll arse-fuck every one of you Wrens until you bleed,” he snarled.

“Eleven O’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late!” he growled and stormed out the galley.

As soon as he left Michele started to shake and gag and she just made it to the sink before she heaved up and puked. She was shuddering with revulsion and disgust, sobbing and gagging as she emptied her stomach. Eventually she calmed down and rinsed her mouth under the tap, which was how Doris found her.

“Oh my god Michele I’m so sorry! Did he hurt you?” Doris blubbered.

Michele spritzed cold water on her face and turned to face her friend smiling.

“Nah! He was easily dealt with,” Michele said with a faux grin on her face.

Then she stepped forward and gripped Doris on the upper arm so tight that she flinched.

“But you tell no one! Absolutely no one Doris; do you hear me?”

Doris nodded banefully.

“Promise Doris! I want you to say it!” Michele’s steely blue eyes stared into Doris’ brown doe eyes.

“I promise Michele,” she whispered.

“Good, good. Now get cracking on scran and I’ll see you at lunchtime,” Michele smiled sweetly at her friend.

Michele left the galley with all the dignity she could muster but as soon as she got outside she collapsed against the wall. She rested for a while and fought the pain and then hobbled over to her cabin where she shucked off her clothes and took a long hot shower. She carefully sponged at the welts, scratches, and bruises on her body and soaped herself up and rinsed until she felt better. She used a douche of warm soapy water to expel Knocker’s disgusting issue. She fixed her wig and makeup and cleaned into a fresh uniform dropping the knickers and tights she had been wearing in the galley into the gash.

When Michele showed up at the cafeteria for lunch she looked as gorgeous as ever. Her uniform hid her wounds and the four aspirin she had taken made her pain manageable. She gave Jason a beatific smile and winked at him mischievously and he smiled back.

She saw Doris behind the counter watching her charade and Michele gave her a warning glare and Doris turned away from her and started talking to Billy Marron who held out his plate for Doris to serve him.

Michele looked down at the plate of food in front of her and pushed it away untouched. She dug her cigarettes out of her jacket pocket, stood up and left the café.

She leaned her back against the wall outside the café and blew out smoke. Jason came out the door and sidled up to her. He took her hand.

“Is everything ok?” he looked searchingly in her eyes.

“Everything’s wonderful,” she smiled back at him sweetly.

To be continued.