Chapter 2

Our entire barracks was sent out to the field for the next two weeks to complete "Rifle Training". This was the most important part of our basic training and I was so nervous that I jumped if I heard the slightest sound. The fact that we were all females seemed to make it a little more tense out at the firing ranges because the trainers were suspicious that the female recruits were all a bunch of pussies and would probably turn the weapons on them out of ignorance or spite.

My perspective was that the female recruits were a lot less inclined to take a silly risk like the male recruits and the safety records would easily confirm that point of view. For some reason, I seemed to perform exceptionally well in the "rapid fire" part of the testing and a number of the trainers would cluster behind me with binoculars to confirm that my groupings were tight and accurate. I wanted to explain it came from years of following my father out into the wilderness to find food for the dinner table and he had taken pains to insure my accuracy by a lot of "hands on" reinforcement on my defenseless rump if I missed the target. That seemed a little too personal to relate so I just smiled and reassured them it was just "beginner's luck".

The war against the North Korean and Venezuelan invaders was not going too well and I couldn't understand why the President hadn't given the signal to use our nuclear deterrent on either or both of those rogue countries. We had already lost most of Southern California and they had taken a big bite out of the coastal areas of Washington and Oregon as well as a second front in the great lakes all the way from Detroit to Chicago. The politicians and the folks on the East Coast thought it was all a shame that so many of our citizens were being killed and turned into slaves but still considered any battle on the other side of the Mississippi as being fought in a far-away land.

The Military establishment were aghast that we had allowed the invasion to go so far without more stringent response but the Commander-in-Chief was convinced the invaders were all "misinformed victims" driven to their violent response by the Nationalistic faults of American misguided superiority. He felt certain that after "things quieted down" he would be able to convince them to withdraw provided additional funding was secured to send them on their way. The "old-timers" at the Pentagon were dusting off old contingency plans in secret in anticipation of internal uprising to put things back on track.

It turned out that all sixty of the female recruits in our barracks completed the rifle training successfully and we were able to stay together for re-assignment to our defensive positions around Detroit City as reinforcements for the units that had already suffered considerable attrition at the hands of the cunning Koreans.

At one of our training classes they showed us classified videos of the treatment received by female captives of the invading forces. It made a real impression on me because one of the things I feared the most was drowning. The sight of the young girls being drowned on one end and screwed on the other was both terrifying and pitiful. Of course, most of them were allowed to survive the creative ordeal to sustain further indignities much too disgusting to put into my diary. I remember in particular a close-up facial shot of a blond girl who reminded me of my executed sister showing in minute detail her expression of dismay and shock over the anal indignities she suffered out of view of the camera. Her bobbing body was tear-stained and sweating profusely from the punishing efforts of a tag-team line-up of laughing North Koreans with no glimmer of pity on their faces.

There were sixty of us and we made a pretty good military team even if we were all female. The people in authority were not happy with the fact that our male population figures were so low that the government had to resort to female military conscripts to fill out the ranks of the fighting forces. The female fighters were still considered by many to be inferior to the regular army but the demographics determined the mix. For some reason, the male statistics started dropping incrementally each year after the baby-boy killing virus that hit the nation after the uprising of 2016. Some of the conspiracy-obsessed folks down in Washington, D.C. were convinced the cause of the uprising was male-based liking for guns and fighting and as a result allowed the virus to be released into major population centers just to keep the nasty men less likely to dominate political or economic spheres of influence in any part of the nation. By 2030 the ratio of females to males was almost two to one and the rise of lesbian relationships made the statistics even worse. The non-industrialized regions of the world were totally un-impacted by the changing statistics and in most third-world countries the value of female babies remained much less than a male child.

Some of the American female groups organized travel junkets to the non-impacted countries to sample the variety of male sperm resources and returned to their homes sated with happy vaginal memories. It was not enough to offset the declines in male population but it helped to slow the erosion.

We were organized into four tactical groups of fifteen fighters each. I was chosen to be the leader of group four which was the reserve section and was comprised of the least competent of the females in the barracks. I didn't mind that because I was still in charge of my own troops and I could almost see the egotistical reflection in the mirror when I brushed my teeth in the morning. I was even able to administer the corrections to my own troops whenever I thought it to be appropriate. The thought of some of those delectable bottoms squirming on my lap made me fair shake with passion and my inner legs felt the dampness that I knew always preceded my release.

I didn't consider myself a lesbian because I enjoyed spanking any backside. It didn't make any difference to me if it was a boy or a girl. I guess I should say a man or a woman because none of us are teenagers any longer. In fact, I was a self-admitted masturbator with very little contact with either cock or pussy other than my own. I enjoyed being corrected by either a male or a female superior but when push came to shove, I would have to say that a long thick cock went a long way to satisfying me best of all.