Barrack Room Betty

By Michele Nylons

Chapter Seven – Retribution

And so Michele’s ordeal began. Every day at 1030 Michele and Jason left the administration building to conduct rounds of the Establishment, each going their separate way. But Michele snuck back in the building as soon as Jason was out of sight. She would go to the ladies heads and dig around in her handbag and pull out her makeup, lingerie and heels. She applied heavy makeup and lots of perfume and took off her ‘granny’ knickers and tights and slipped into sheer stockings, silky panties and suspender belt. She lubricated her back passage in anticipation that Knocker wouldn’t, then kicked off her work shoes and slipped into her high-heels.

She did this not because she wanted to make PO Knocker White particularly happy, she wanted to get him hot and randy so that he would climax quickly and her ordeal would be over sooner.

It worked the first time. She entered the Duty Instructors cabin at 1100 exactly and nearly gagged at the funk of stale food, beer and body odour. Even at this early hour Knocker was half pissed but when he saw the beautiful specimen of femminity and sexuality when Michele came through the door he couldn’t control himself.

There was no foreplay; he dragged her into the cabin, bent her over the desk, lifted her skirt and pushed his already pulsing penis into her behind.

“Oh fuck yeah!”

“Oh you dirty fucking bitch!”

“Oh you tranny slut!” he moaned.

Each expletive was punctuated with a violent clout to the arse; Michele’s buttocks glowed red.

Once again she refused to cry out or react to the pain. Instead she ground her buttocks against her assailant, attempting to invoke his early ejaculation, and she succeeded.

“Oh god yes; you love it, you cunt!”

Knocker gripped Michele’s hips, his dirty fingernails digging into her soft flesh, the pain immense.

“Take this!” he gasped.

He pulled her back against him and Michele obligingly wriggled her buttocks as Knocker filled her back passage with his semen. He held her tight as his cock spasmed deep in Michele’s anus; tears formed in the corners of Michele’s eyes but she refused to cry.

After Knocker emptied himself inside Michele, he whipped out his penis and pulled out the back of her white blouse and wiped his cock on it.

“There Michele, you made yourself useful in more ways than one,” he sniggered.

Michele felt her gorge rise but she swallowed and tucked in her blouse, pulled up her knickers and smoothed out her skirt. She kept her eyes averted until she had composed herself; then she stared at him with her steely blue eyes.

“Satisfactory PO?”

“Yeah but I know what you’re doing, dressing like that, all the perfume and shit, pushing your arse into me. You’re deliberately trying to get me to come quickly. Well that’s ok for today but tomorrow you won’t be finished so soon,” Knocker grinned.

The next day Knocker was sober but still unwashed.

“I had a wank before you got here so it won’t be a blow and go girly,” Knocker’s erect penis tented his ragged underwear.

Knocker looked down at his hard-on and nodded.

“You know what to do.”

Michele dutifully got to her knees and began to fellate him. She worked up as much saliva as she could so that she could wash away the smegma; she retched as she swallowed it and Knocker laughed and grabbed her head and forced his big cock down her throat. Michele began to choke but Knocker held her face in his groin laughing.

Michele concentrated on breathing through her nose and suppressing her gag reflex; she cupped his scrotum and stroked it with her fingernails.

“Mm, good girly, that’s what I like,” Knocker grinned.

He face fucked Michele for ages and try as she might, using the tip of her tongue on his fraenulum, deep throating him, stroking his scrotum, using all her fellatio techniques she couldn’t get him to come.

Knocker moved a hand from Michele’s head to her throat; he gripped her slender neck, choking her as he dragged her to her feet. Michele nearly blacked out but hung on to consciousness as he dragged her to his bed.

He threw her on the bed and she gasped, taking deep breaths despite the repulsive odour of his dirty bedclothes. Knocker fell on her and Michele dutifully opened her legs.

She could stand the stench of him, even the feel of his thrusting penis as it searched for her sphincter was bearable, but as his thick, hard member invaded her anus he began to kiss and slaver at her. His rancid breath and vile tongue was repulsive and made her gag. Knocker laughed and fucked her harder; he gripped her hips and dug his nails into her tender flesh.

Michele resolved to ensure her violation was as short lived as possible. Despite the pain and revolting stench of his bed and his putrid breath she looked him in the eyes and bucked up against him, grating her soft buttocks against him, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his flanks and wrapping her arms around him. She kissed him back, sucking his tongue.

“Oh you are one horny slut,” Knocker moaned and spent his seed inside her.

He rutted at her as hard as he could, bruising her internally. Michele refused to flinch or cry out.

“Yeah take it bitch, take that cock!” he howled.

When he was finished he sprang from the bed and dragged her off the bed, throwing her across the room.

“Ok bitch, I’ve finished with you now. See you tomorrow,” he grinned waving his cock at her.

Doris stood smoking outside the galley door watching Michele hobble back to the barracks. She couldn’t help but cry. Michele had been such a good friend; twice she had saved Doris from retribution. Once from Spike and again from Knocker; she butted out her dhurry and wiped her eyes. She knew the sacrifice Michele was making on behalf of them all and despite being sworn to secrecy; she hated herself for allowing her friend to be degraded and hurt this way.

Michele’s misery was a secret held only by Doris, so oblivious to her plight, the Kellicks and Wrens made plans for a big Christmas Eve party. There were decorations to make, a tree to sourced, food to be cooked, and for the Wrens, party dresses to be found. And of course, their daily chores still had to be completed.

Michele was able to find party dresses for all the Wrens, three she took from the Wrens block and one she found in the canteen, the girls spent their afternoons adjusting and decorating the dresses so they would look especially nice for their boyfriends.

Jason had noticed a change in Michele; she had become introverted and moody but strangely enough the opposite was occurring in the bedroom. Her lovemaking was insistent, almost aggressive; she became the initiator, frantically thrashing under him when fucking, slavering at his cock rather than the gentle licking and suckling she usually used during fellatio. Her kissing and foreplay was almost domineering.

And her language was obscenely descriptive.

“Fuck me big boy! Stick your cock in your tranny slut! Use me like a whore! Let me suck your hard cock!” were terms she had begun to use during their sexual encounters.

Jason missed his feminine young Wren who liked hours of gentle foreplay before ultimately consummating their affection tenderly and lovingly. He knew something was wrong but couldn’t figure out what it was.

Michele knew that she was compensating for the depravity she was experiencing with Knocker by becoming a whore with Jason. It was a defence mechanism. Because she felt degraded, she behaved like a slattern with her lover; but it was also the mechanism she used to rid herself of the recollections she had of Knocker’s degenerateness. She also insisted that they make love with the lights out, which Jason hated but Michele insisted upon so that Jason couldn’t see the wounds Knocker inflicted on her.

It came to a head the night before Christmas Eve, Knocker had been particularly degrading to her that day, he had spanked her behind red then fucked her raw. He couldn’t come so he made her lie on her back so he could straddle her with his scrotum in her mouth, making her lick and suck his balls. She was forced to stroke him to climax and he spent all over her face and hair and then rubbed it in with his cock. Not satisfied with that, he had pissed on her face and then all over her body, saturating her uniform.

Michele as usual was stoic, refusing to sob or complain as he debased her; she simply stared up at up him with her steely blue eyes.

“At least that piss won’t make any difference to the state your filthy bedclothes,” she sniggered.

Knocker slapped her hard across the face and threw her off the bed.

Michele limped back to her cabin, sobbing in her piss-soaked uniform unaware that Doris was watching her from the galley. Doris was seething with anger.

After she showered and changed and was putting on her makeup Michele noticed that her eye was starting to bruise so she ignored the rule about wearing modest makeup during the working day and applied mauve eyeshadow to hide it. Wearing pallid makeup with the gaudy eyeshadow would look ridiculous so she applied ruby-red lipstick.

This did not go unnoticed by the other Wrens at lunch, but no one complained about her flaunting the rules. She also broke another rule when she returned to the Regulating Office where Jason was filing the rounds reports.

Michele was looking for comfort and to rid herself of the mental images of this morning’s session with Knocker the only way she knew how.

Michele turned off the lights as she slid into the office and locked the door behind her.

“Hey?” Jason exclaimed.

Michele pounced on him crushing her lips against his and rubbing herself wantonly against him. She gripped his hand and pushed it under her skirt and reached for his cock with the other.

“Hey Michele, slow down,” Jason gasped.

“Fuck that,” she said, dropping to her knees.

She ripped open his flies and began sucking him to rigidity.

“That’s my big buck! Now stick that in my tranny whore’s arse.”

Michele scrambled onto the visitor’s lounge and lifted her behind in the air, pulling down her tights and knickers and wriggling her buttocks.

“Come and fuck me, sailor!” she wailed.

Jason looked at his girlfriend through the afternoon gloom; wriggling her bottom like a slattern and shook his head.

“What’s going on Michele?” he snarled and walked over and snatched on light.

“No!” Michele cried attempting to pull down her dress.

“What the fuck!” Jason strode over and lifted it back up.

Michele’s buttocks were red and her thighs bruised and scratched.

“You fucking bitch! That explains everything!”

“You think I don’t know about you not going out on your forenoon rounds? You’re seeing someone else aren’t you!”

“And that’s why you’re behaving like a slut! Because you are one, you fucking whore!”

Michele pulled down her skirt and clamoured to her feet shaking her head violently. She put her arms out to Spike, but he just looked at her in disgust.

“It’s not what you think,” Michele sobbed, tears running down her cheeks.

“Well what is it then?” He glared at her.

“It’s, it’s, it’s…I can’t tell you,” Michele began to cry harder.

“So who’s been fucking you? One of my lads? One your grommets? Or have you been climbing the fence at night and ally-catting down in Chelmsford?”

“Fuck off Michele!” Spike pushed her away as she attempted to embrace him.

“Fuck off back to the blocks and don’t bother coming back!”

Jason Spike Jones stormed out the door and slammed it behind him.

Michele fell to her knees sobbing.

“Come back Jason, please come back,” she beseeched him.

But the passageway was silent, Spike was gone.

Michele curled up on the floor sobbing until she couldn’t cry any longer. She eventually got to her feet and was able to limp back to barracks where she fell onto her bunk and sobbed some more. When she was all cried out she once again set her resolve, stripped down and went down to the heads and showers. She heard the other three Wrens come into the block and she stayed in the shower so she didn’t have to engage with them.

When they were all clean, freshly made up and dressed in their version of night clothing, Number Twos with high-heels, sexy knickers, sheer stockings and suspenders, they went over to the café and Doris took her station behind the counter to serve dinner. No one seemed to notice Jason’s glacial demeanour towards Michele; they were all excitedly talking about tomorrow night’s party.

After scran Michele surprised her three sister Wrens.

“I’m not going to the wets tonight, I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh come on, fuck me Michele, we have to finalise plans for the party tomorrow,” Polly whined.

“Yeah and you’re our leader, you have all the good ideas,” Mary added.

“Fuck off! I told you I’m not going!” Michele snapped.

“Ok, don’t get yer knickers in a knot!” Polly snapped back.

“Come on girls, let’s go have some fun and leave droopy drawers here on her own,” Polly huffed.

Doris looked at Michele sceptically and Michele glared back at her balefully, shaking her head. Doris surrendered and caught up with the others.

When the Wrens got to the wets Jason was already roaring drunk and the other sailors were behaving very cautiously around him.

“He’s in one of his moods,” Jean Burgess explained as he kissed Mary on the cheek.

“He’s fucking crazy is what he is,” Jimmy Lovejoy whispered as he kissed Polly and squeezed her bum.

“Where’s Michele? We were all hoping he’d calm down when she got here,” Billy Marron kissed Doris and stroked her face tenderly.

“She’s not coming. I think she ate something bad,” Polly stuck her tongue out Doris.

“Hey!” Doris gave Polly the finger and they all started laughing.

For a while, everyone forgot about Michele as they drank, smoked, joked and kissed and cuddled. Jason sat by himself brooding, drinking rum and chain smoking.

After a while talk turned to the Christmas Eve party.

“Come on Jason, we need to make our final plans for tomorrow,” Jimmy called out.

Jason begrudgingly staggered over and dropped into one of the armchairs.

“So let’s put the Christmas tree up after lunch and we can all decorate it,” Mary began.

“Yeah and we can put up trimmings too,” Polly said enthusiastically.

“I’ll hold the ladder while you do,” Jimmy laughed.

“Just so you can look up my skirt you pervert!” Polly punched him in the shoulder playfully.

“Yeah I just hope Michele is well enough so she can join us and enjoy Christmas Eve,” Doris said.

“Fuck Michele! I don’t care if that fucking whore never comes to the wets again!” Jason slammed his fist down on the table.

The room became silent.

“Come on Jason,” Jimmy whined.

Jason leaned over and pulled Jimmy towards him.

“That bitch ain’t coming to the party ok!” Jason spat.

“What the fuck!” Jimmy slapped Jason’s hands away from him.

“She’s a fucking trollop!” Jason downed his drink and poured another.

Doris couldn’t take it any longer.

“She’s a heroine you fucking moron!” Doris shrieked at Jason.

Jason reached out to grab Doris but Billy leapt out of his seat and pushed Jason back into his.

“What do you mean she’s a heroine?” Billy held Doris by her shoulders, looking at her searchingly.

Doris broke down and began to whimper.

“What are you fucking talking about!” Jason demanded.

“She swore me to secrecy,” Doris blubbered.

“Tell me,” Jason looked bewildered.

“I can’t,” Doris whispered.

Billy comforted his girlfriend and lifted her chin.

“Tell him,” he calmed her, stroking her face tenderly.

And so she did. The others listened incredulously as Doris explained how Michele had sacrificed her self-respect and her body to keep their secret.

Jason seethed with anger, his wrath growing as Doris told of Michele’s sacrifice.

Polly and Mary cried when Doris told of seeing Michele hobbling with pain but with her dignity intact, across the snow swept parade ground back to the block after being ravaged by Petty Officer White.

When she told them of finding Michele’s piss-soaked uniform discarded in the gash bin behind the blocks, Jason howled.

“That fucking arsehole! That fucking drunken, disgusting turd!”

“And what did I do? I insulted her and pushed her away!” Jason started to cry.

“Fuck this!” Jason roared and leapt from his chair.

Jason stormed out of the wets across to the administration building, followed by the other three leading recruits. He kicked open the door to the Duty Instructors cabin and dragged Knocker White from his bunk and threw him in the corner of the cabin and commenced kicking him.

The other three sailors burst through the door and joined in, punching and kicking Knocker until he was bloodied and bruised. He groaned and whined as the lads beat him nearly unconscious. When they had spent their anger on the drunken Petty Officer they stood panting over his prone body.

“You don’t leave this cabin except to shit and shower until after the ROP,” Jason hissed.

“Understand!”

Knocker nodded his head, lying curled up in ball.

“If I see you outside this cabin you get worse!”

Knocker cringed and nodded acknowledgment.

The four Leading Recruits strode out of the cabin surprised to find Doris outside the door.

She walked into the cabin, wrinkling her nose at the stench and strode over and kicked Knocker as hard as she could in the balls.

“Let’s go boys,” she crooked her arm through Billy’s.

They started to walk back to the wets but Jason broke off from them and ran over to the blocks.

He marched into Michele’s cabin and found her fully clothed, curled up on her bunk. He lifted her up into his arms, gazed into her pretty tear-rimmed eyes and kissed her gently on the eyelids.

He carried her lovingly in his arms all the way to the wets.

To be continued.