Chapter 7: 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.