Chapter 1

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, NonConsensual, Coercion, Lesbian, BiSexual, Fiction, Science Fiction, BDSM, Spanking, Rough, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Violent, Military, Lesbian Sci-fi military sex story, Sci-fi BDSM sex story.

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Science-fiction erotica with a flavor of militaristic chaos. Soft-core BDSM and lesbian themes. Not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

(The personal diary of Specialist Jennifer Collins CM2771902 dated I January 2022 found in the ashes of the Battle of Detroit)

They told the shivering group of raw recruits that in order for us to function in a normal way in the correct manner; we would have to keep a diary of our progress and eventual rehabilitation as a valued member of society. Those are not my words but the words of the district leader Livingston Jumping Eagle to the incoming class of 2020 as we stood in the driving rainstorm like a bunch of frightened sheep waiting for the final journey to the butcher shop. It sounded a bit contrived to me like the touchy-feely crap they feed you in high school.

My name is Jennifer Collins and I have started my dairy this day with this first entry about how we started our new training efforts at the old military camp that used to be called Fort Dix. Now it is just a pathetically littered landscape of buildings falling apart from lack of maintenance and dismal roads that were in dire need of re-paving. Our building is one of the old wooden ones with lots of windows but no air conditioning and only a pot-bellied stove in the basement to keep it warm in cold weather.

I have been selected to be the keeper of the flame which means I am not to allow the stove to cool off beyond the recall of a strong draft to bring the embers back up into a hot burning fire. The building fire would drive off the snow and the ice and even heat the water for the showers at the end of the building. If I failed, all of the girls would be angry at me for shivering in the frigid temperatures and being forced to take showers in freezing water. That was more like torture than being stretched over the gun-rack and having your bottom blistered by the group leader's paddle. I had already watched several of the girls being disciplined by the guards and knew the harmless looking canes they all carried raised welts that lasted for days.

Our group leader was an Indian girl called simply Zoe. She was a "from India" Indian and not an American Indian like you would have suspected in these circumstances. Her uniform was custom tailored with shiny buttons that reflected the light from the lanterns at night. Our unsightly so-called uniforms were more like sacks that had been fashioned together to hide our nakedness from the many males looking for a free peek show. Zoe's uniform was tight over her backside and whenever she instructed us at the blackboard, her perfectly shaped cheeks wiggled about like bowls of pudding fighting to get out of the fabric. I am not one of those girls who are attracted to such things. I am just describing her appearance and her attitude.

They usually let me miss the early morning exercises to catch up on my sleep that I had missed tending the house fire. I complained about everything out of habit because everyone expected it from you, but in actuality, I really loved the fire keeper job and I loved shoveling the hard black coal into the hot furnace and stirring the hot embers to keep it all moving nice and smooth and not forming into terrible clinkers that needed brute strength to separate from the grates. I had gotten burned a couple of times but I was real careful now and managed to avoid any serious injury.

Zoe came down to do an unscheduled inspection last night and caught me starting to doze off sitting up in the wooden chair right by the door. I was petrified with fear thinking that she could sentence me to the "joy brigade" which was a cover title for the whore station all of these places used to keep the fighting males happy while they learned how to kill the enemy. I think I would rather be taken and used as a decoy on the weapons range rather than the slow death of spreading my legs dozens of times each and every night for complete strangers.

I already knew that most of the males were either volunteers for service or had been recruited from the prison system that incarcerated any male without certified employment after reaching eighteen years of age. It seemed a bit harsh to make lack of employment a crime but the lack of sustainable economic resources had made non-workers guilty of felony crimes against society and our way of life. Under the female exemption clauses of the new order, women were excused from military duty but they had to be re-educated as loyal members of society if they had not produced at least one child to offset the falling population figures that impacted economy GDP. In my case, I was not likely to have a child since I still had my cherry and had no interest in "Doing it for the good of society".

So the females were there if they were not producing children for the state and the males were there if they did not manage to find a job to contribute to the economic order.

The religion-driven fighting had been going on for almost thirty years now and didn't show any sign of ending any time soon. The young men were shipped off to countries that were still living in the stone ages just to show the enemy that we were still willing to fight for our freedom. The sealing of our borders with barbed wire and landmines and towers with lights and machine guns stopped the hordes of illegal aliens but also eliminated the volunteers for military service and the millions of moms that kept the population figures sustainable.

Fortunately, the females over forty were given exemption providing they either "backed up" the military with free pussy or cared for the children entrusted to the care of the state.

I was surprised when I got scooped up in a sweep of our neighborhood because I thought I had at least six months before I was liable under the new laws. It was too late to claim motherhood because I was still a virgin and as a female I had absolutely no chance of getting a job because no employer wanted a nubile woman working just until she got knocked up.

Our building was one of many.

There were exactly sixty girls in the building excluding the guards. We all were enthusiastic about learning the new system. Well, at least, we all acted like we were enthusiastic.

I stood at attention and waited for group leader Zoe to pronounce my fate.

"You are the one called Jennifer, my pretty?"

I was surprised she knew my name.

Yes, ma am, Jennifer Collins. I promise I was not falling asleep. I was just blinking my eyes."

Zoe laughed but I tensed up as it was not the kind of laugh that instilled confidence. I noticed that she had her little riding crop in her hand but as far as I knew there were no horses in the Calvary unit on the base annex, only a rag tag assortment of tanks.

"Lift up your dress, pretty Jennifer, I want to see your body to inspect you underneath. Be quick about it, girl!"

I was really confused now because I knew I had no clothes on underneath. They told us not to worry about it at the supply room because we were only first week recruits. Our re-education took precedent over the fact we had no bras and no panties.

The cold air coming in under the wooden door turned my naked skin all goose-bumps but I was more mortified that this pretty Indian woman was looking at my bare body with my nipples sticking out and my bush that was in serious need of trimming. As if in a distance, I heard her voice telling me to turn around so she could see my rear end and I am certain I turned a shade of dark pink or red from embarrassment.

"I see you have done well with the fire, young Miss Jennifer. However, you are out of uniform with no bra and no panties and I must discipline you on the spot. Why do you not have any undies?"

I just could not help myself and started to cry with the silly tears rolling down my cheeks like blazing lines of lava.

"I am so sorry, group leader Zoe, we were told the first week girls would get their undies later and to keep our mouths shut."

Zoe tapped my soft behind with her riding crop and reversed it to stick the business end into my crack and right up against my quivering brown eye. I was thoroughly humiliated and wanted to disappear into the wall like a spider hiding from a broom.

"It would be better to keep your mouth shut and concentrate on taking your punishment, young lady. Now turn around and bend over and don't let me hear your excuses."

I followed Lady Zoe's instructions and she commenced to beat out a sharp tattoo with her riding crop on my bottom. I was sobbing now and I felt thoroughly ashamed for my inability to accept my punishment with external calm. I was certain my cheeks and the back of my legs were almost as rosy red as the embers in the fire and I spread my legs wide as the group leader soothed my burning skin with her soft delicate hand. I regret to report in this diary that my juices were running at an unacceptable level and I knew she was fully aware of my depraved excitement. I could hear her soft humming as she pushed her hand between my legs and found my disgraceful button of release.

I was grunting now like some rutting animal in heat and only wanted to perform well for Zoe's enjoyment in the role that she wanted me to play. A couple of times she stopped her ministrations and slapped my cheeks sharply with the riding crop just to teach me not to enjoy it too much for my own good. I did my best to please her and she pushed me down onto my hands and knees on the floor and I gazed with squinted eyes into the fiery hot furnace thinking that is just how hot my pussy was feeling right now in anticipation of some sort of unknown action in the middle of the night. I felt her weight on my back and I accepted her burden hoping she liked the trim fit of my shapely hips. I felt her silky panties and her garters holding up her hose underneath her regulation short skirt. She was riding me now like I was her personal steed and she touched up the back of my legs up with the riding crop like we were getting ready to jump over a dangerous obstacle at any moment.

Zoe was talking under her breath in her own language now and I had no idea what she was saying but I had a gut feeling it was something to do with the feel of my female slit and my tightly clenched rear entry.

She stood up and came around to my face. I looked up and saw she had taken off her panties and she pushed them into my face like some sort of gag and told me to sniff her scent like I was a good little "doggy". I did it and was pleasantly surprised at the spicy and erotic scent of her essence.

Then, without any warning at all, she pushed my head into her steaming crotch and told me to lick her pussy like a good little girl. I rushed to follow her orders because I certainly didn't want to be assigned to any "Joy Brigade" as a punishment for disobedience. Her taste was sublime and I kept trying to get in deeper to get more of the good stuff.

Zoe leaned forward and slapped my willing buttocks with her palms and I just licked faster than ever before. Soon we both realized that she was slipping into a "beyond the point of no return" orgasm and she flooded my mouth with her fluids until they all dripped down my chin and onto the floor.

After that night, group leader Zoe never failed to visit me to give me further instructions on showing proper respect to superior officers and she even gifted me with several used pairs of her panties and bras that fit me perfectly.

Suddenly, I was looking forward to the next phase of training and wanted to be "all that I could be".

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