Morale Officer
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One Day In 2335: Dexa, Morale Officer free porn video
Growing up, I was lucky enough to live in a relatively peaceful region of the frontier. Not everyone had that luxury, and I have always been grateful to those who risked their lives to provide that peace. The Silicon Age had its head lodged so far up its rectum that no one was prepared for the social adjustments that were necessary when skin color no longer counted as a racial difference. There were endless wars on Earth, but nothing brings humans together like the threat of annihilation or enslavement by another race of beings. People quickly divided themselves into groups who were tolerant or curious versus those who disliked and distrusted non-humans. At first, we had no idea which races were friendly because they were as subtle as a multinational corporation and even better at manipulation. Luckily, a few of Earth’s leaders made connections with the right people. Nearly three centuries ago, humanity joined a military alliance which in English they called the Inter-Galactic Navy or IGN. Longer standing members of the IGN helped remove most of the industrial saboteurs and helped streamline our technological advancement.
Still, travelling through space and living on remote planets and moons brings considerable risk beyond the obvious issues of a suitable environment to support life. People of any standing could captured as slaves or hunted for sport by one of the more aggressive races. A few humans even started preying on those more vulnerable and selling their own kind into slavery for personal gain. That sort of business was by no means new, but selling to aliens from different parts of the galaxy opened a new market with greater rewards and, for a time, a low risk of being caught. Occasionally, there were stories that those arranging to sell others were also taken, presumably to be slaves themselves. They are the only ones who deserve it, if you ask me.
It was my respect and gratitude for those who risked their lives for everyone else that inspired me to sign up with the IGN. That was what led to my current situation. Sliding on my stomach through wet grass in the pouring rain, we crept along the surface of a moon I had never seen before. Three of us approached a small outpost which lay directly in our path as we descended the foothills. Something in the air smelled good and I wanted to eat. Getting to this point had taken several hours and I only had a small portion of dried rations a couple miles back. These exercises always made me nervous, but everyone was using nerve guns which only stunned. Hopefully, any injuries should be minor.
Krudge lead by a few yards and took an unexpected slide down the hill as a bank gave out beneath him. My own training does not emphasize the usual combat and field survival skills and did not really prepare me for this. They did try giving me a laser pistol when I first enlisted, but I freak out and have no ability to aim at all. After a psych evaluation, it was determined that putting me through the necessary training for combat would be detrimental to my primary responsibilities. Thus, my role in this exercise was the civilian being escorted through hostile territory.
With my limited field experience, it was not clear if the bank slide was natural or a trap. Krudge stopped himself by a fallen tree which reminded me of the large oaks back on Earth. It was at least four feet thick. Reggie and I waited for Krudge to check out his new position. He slipped under the big tree and continued down the slope to better cover and signaled for us to follow.
The wet grass let me slide much faster than I expected. I went down on my back, feet first, zooming towards that monstrous tree. Part of the trunk was covered in a blue moss-like growth. My feet slipped and I continued to slide underneath. As much as I love my boots, they are not as helpful in this situation as what the guys wear. It had been a long time since I questioned the wisdom of my boots. They have tall wedge heels and a fairly basic tread, which looks great but is more suited to urban life.
My reactions were much too slow. I had barely accepted the fact that I would keep sliding all the way down the slope when my body stopped. Pressure on my chest made it difficult to breathe. Momentum had jammed me under the tree and I was stuck. I lost my composure and panicked until Reggie appeared next to me. When I looked up at him, I tried to ignore the raindrops in my eyes. Reggie grinned, "Your tits are always getting you in trouble, Dexa?"
My entire wardrobe was now under scrutiny. Most of the time I love them, but this was one of those rare moments when a DuraBust form supporting bra was not helpful. The design prevents my boobs from dropping around my sides even though I was on my back. Their ads claimed they keep a woman in the same form as Larcroft, the ancient goddess of love. She was said to have the perfect body, far beyond natural proportions of mortals, and was the most beautiful goddess ever.
My implants were several times the natural size my petite frame warranted, another of my attempts to resemble the goddess. The reinforced mesh in my bra preserved a perky shape which refused to fit through the gap. Reggie looked down, planting his boots on the trunk just above my head. It was clear from his face that he was trying very hard not to laugh. He reached for my chest and gave one boob a squeeze. In turn, I gave him by best offended expression. Reggie always made me smile.
My reliable friend hoisted me out by my uniform with one hand. I put my feet on the tree to stabilize myself and silently thanked him by kissing my hand and then giving him a pat on the groin. I inched sideways along the trunk to where the gap underneath was wider and slid through easily. Reggie waited for me to get to the bottom before following.
Together again, our trio crept closer to the structure. Stun guns zapped around us. Before I knew where they were, the enemy team had taken out Krudge and Reggie. I felt the temporary discomfort that precedes loss of muscle control in both of my legs. I could barely move; my upper body strength has never been great.
A body landed on top of me and we rolled. I screamed as another blurred figure zoomed toward my face. Someone said, “Shut your hole,” and something was shoved into my mouth. The smell registered first, but that sensation of not being able to close my mouth due to a cock taking residence there was very familiar. This particular cock was new to me and it was not wasting time with a polite introduction. The cock had friends in the form of two strong hands that pushed me onto it. We were getting closely acquainted. The cock was rammed down my throat and held there. Hair tickled my nose, nearly causing me to sneeze. My chin brushed a very furry pair of testicles, which led me to conclude that the man fucking my face was a half-breed mixed with one of the more hairy races.
The person who jumped on top of me had moved behind me. I was on held down on my left side and felt a sting on my right hip. The pinpoint burning of a medical field knife was hard to forget. They have no actual blade, but burn through the fabric without serious harm to skin. Although not particularly painful, it is sort of a torturous tickling that you want to rub for several hours after. It still stung and would leave a mark for a couple days. After cutting through my uniform the man behind me unzipped and I felt his cock searching for a place to go. The man had a high grade lubricant which made penetration no obstacle at all.
My face was buried in furry man’s groin while the other held my hip and bucked against me as fast as he could go. I supposed Krudge and Reggie could see what was happening, but they would not dare to break protocol and shout for help because they were “dead” by the rules of the exercise. Things were not looking good for my guys.
The overexcited man behind me should see his doctor about his premature ejaculation, but in this particular case it was probably an advantage. He released inside me in less than thirty seconds. After a moment to pause and enjoy being inside me, he withdrew and moved away.
Fucking me earns his team points. Krudge and Reggie were supposed to prevent it. Oops! There is no need to feel sorry for me. I signed up for this. No one wants to rely on me to hold a weapon and defend them, but I can fuck all day and usually do. Consider it my small contribution to your freedom.
While mildly disorienting, I am accustomed to the rapid movement of my head on the shaft of a hard cock. If that is how a guy wants it, I much prefer for him to put in all that effort. That is how it was in this instance. When the furry man paused for a moment, that is when my pulse raced. Another face loomed over me. Only able to turn my face slightly with a stiff cock deep in my mouth, I looked up at the face of a Dreck. His scaly, grey face moved in close to mine. The split tongue, which reminded me of a snake, flicked at my cheek and tickled my ear. I squirmed.
The Dreck backed off and bent my legs forward. Since I had no means of resistance, he could place me in whatever position he wanted. His choice left my legs forward ninety degrees. My head fuck resumed, and divided my attention. I could feel the Dreck’s cock. He clearly started too far back and was sliding along the crack of my butt. When he reached my ass, he started to push. Did he want to fuck my ass or was he confused? I tried to reach down and move him to my pussy, but my arm was quickly pinned behind my back.
The next few minutes were an intense sexual workout for me. The difficulty in fucking a Dreck is that their cocks are rough compared to human cocks. They leave a girl sore after the event even when they are gentle, plus their girth increases with their approaching climax as their fertilizing seeds accumulate in the cock.
My legs may have been stunned, but I had no loss of sensitivity in my butt. The Dreck showed no mercy on my ass, which began to feel raw. I longed for better lube. His balls hit me like stones as they slapped my butt with each thrust. The longer he fucked me the more he stretched my ass. I could not help whimpering in response to increasing anal dilation.
My discomfort excited the furry man. Hot sticky spurts of salty cum sprayed inside my mouth. He continued to hold me down, either to keep me quiet or hold me still for the dreck.
Eventually, the Dreck released. It happens instantaneously and hit my insides like an exploding water balloon, the sensation as abrupt as a slap in the face. Even when I thought I was ready for it, my body jolted. On the plus side, the Dreck’s cock deflated just as quickly and he pulled out. I was grateful he was not in my mouth. For those who enjoy the taste of it, a dreck can produce a meal sized bowl for you, provided you can contain its delivery.
It was time to move out. There were only three guys in the group that attacked and they had all cum in me. The one who fucked my pussy picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. Being carried like that with stunned legs left me in constant fear of falling since I could not feel his grip on my legs. The Dreck had filled me with much more cum than humans and my ass could not contain it. Warm streaks slowly oozed up my back.
In case it is not obvious, I love my job. Not only do I get to fuck fit men constantly, I am their prized possession. The ones who have me want to keep me. The opposition makes a concerted effort to fuck and claim me. Some call me a whore, and they are correct, but my official title is Morale Officer.
The officer title is slightly misleading. Morale Officers only have authority in specific circumstances, never in combat. My personal suspicion is that someone thought the men would enjoy fucking a woman who outranks them, so they made this position an officer. As the title suggests, I am responsible for morale. Clearly, I cannot do everything, but a good fuck or blowjob can go a long way with a bunch of guys who have limited female contact. The core of my job is to look after the guys in my squad, but I may be called upon to serve anyone at any time.
When it comes to exercises like the current one, our opponents do not care what rank I am. Thus, even a Private can force his dick anywhere he likes. Without uniforms, I had no idea what rank the man carrying me held. They took me back to their base without incident. My legs slowly regained feeling while two new men, both human, took their turns fucking me. Shortly after that, the siren wailed, indicating the end of the exercise. Part of me suspected that it had been delayed just so these last two men could fuck me.
Everyone gathered for the debriefing. I stood in the front row with my Blue Squad. Reggie was standing, but Krudge was in a hoverchair, as were a few others, still affected by the stun gun. Grey Squad was lined up similarly next to us. They only had two men in chairs to our six.
The Drill Master shouted at us and praised the greys for a bit. “Whores, front and center.” I knew Trixie, the Grey Squad whore. She had attitude towards all the rest of us whores, but I do not rate her highly. We have ways of rating our peers based on how the men talk about us. She will be smug after this exercise, thinking she had defeated me personally.
We stood side by side. Trixie looked immaculate, like she just got dressed for exercises. I had no pants and my shirt was muddy and ripped. I was in the better position. All the guys in both squads would be looking at me not Trixie. A twisted part of me loved standing there, exposed for everyone to see. Many eyes checking out my pussy, ass and legs, which I knew looked good with my four inch heels, was always a good thing. This moment is why I wear my heeled boots on exercises. A whore in flats is like a stun gun with no charge. Well, perhaps not quite, since I am by no means useless without them.
My guys felt ashamed, I knew that. Then they had it shouted at them. After the Drill Master finished berating the men for letting the enemy fuck their whore, he paced in front of the two us, looking us over meticulously. He traced his finger over the pocket on Trixie’s shirt and then groped her breast. Trixie smiled.
Trixie preferred the natural body. Her bust was a meager 0.4 liters, smaller than even the natural average. With me he examined my bust, leaning his head one way, then the other. “Those are massive.”
Trixie snorted, “Completely fake, sir.”
“Completely organic, sir.” I proudly pushed my chest out a little more.
“So, you’re Dexa.” It almost sounded like a question. The corner of my mouth curled. I assume he knew of me by reputation. His expression did not change. “I like ‘em.”
Yes! Eat that, Trixie. Of course, I only said this in my mind.
His hand felt my left breast and slid around underneath. Having a man touch me in front of so many witnesses made me more aroused than when the grey squad guys fucked me. “Show me.” He withdrew his hand. It was common for me to be on display, but I was unable to discern if this was for his personal benefit or part of his demonstration to the men. Either way, I was eager to show him. They all watched as I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. My DuraBust bra is tight when I pull it over my tits and makes them bounce when the break free. It often elicits an audible response and the Drill Master's subtle sigh was just what I wanted to hear.
This left me in my favorite uniform. The Fucking Uniform is the minimum a whore is allowed to wear while on standard duty. It consists of a three inch band around my left upper-arm which displays my rank and current squad assignment and then a pair of boots or shoes. The boots are a health and safety requirement, apparently. The “whore band” stays on even in bed, because when I am in bed I am still on duty and my rank has to be easily visible. I have no bed of my own, and am only allowed to sleep alone one night in eight.
The Drill Master felt me up again, lifting my breasts to feel the weight. They may not be natural, but they look and feel natural, unlike cheaper enlargements. He spoke up so everyone could hear him, “How long has it been since Grey Squad planted seeds in your pussy?”
“About ten minutes, sir.”
“I can’t hear you,” he shouted. I repeated my answer, matching his volume. “And tell me, whore, who was responsible for guarding your pussy from the cocks of Grey Squad?” I gave him Reggie and Krudge’s names. He had them come forward. He must have picked Krudge for being in a hoverchair. He pointed at Krudge, “Make him lick your pussy.”
Krudge was not some unknown soldier. He was a friend. He loves long slow blowjobs and fast doggy style, but dislikes when anyone cums on my face. However unlikely it might be that I ever found myself in real combat at his side, we still had a bond of trust which I was not willing to jeopardize. “No, sir.”
The Master was in my face immediately, asking if I dared disobey an order. I stood my ground. It was my job. My men were important to me, and I do consider them my men. This part was my test and I would not let them down. Their training makes them tough, I keep them sane. Following the Master’s order would not help Krudge and as a Morale Officer it is my prerogative to refuse sexual orders if I believe them to be detrimental to my responsibilities. Besides that, I could see a couple of my guys smiling. They may not tell stories about the whore who saved their life in the field, but they are just as animated when they tell stories of a whore taking one for the team to preserve their dignity. I earned my reputation by doing whatever is necessary.
“Drop and give me twenty, whore!”
“Yes, sir.” My body goes all tingly when I kneel to give a blowjob in front of a large audience. I unzipped the Master’s uniform and extracted his cock. I caught Krudge’s eye and winked before I went down on the Master. Some whores feel intimidated by the aggressive situation and do it quickly. Since I love my job and thrive on cock, I prefer to take my time and enjoy it. If giving head was not satisfying enough on its own, it is exhilarating when forty men get an erection watching me perform. Upon completion of twenty head bobs on the Master’s penis, I asked, “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Shut the fuck up, whore! And don’t let my dick come out of your mouth until I am done speaking.” Did he know it turns me on to be addressed like that, especially with an audience? I tried to resume a normal blowjob but the Master had other ideas. He began to pace. He was not going to beat me. I swung one arm around the Master’s waist and held on tight. The other gripped his belt just above my head. Stumbling and half skipping, I did my best to predict his movements, but he was being deliberately erratic. Several times, I lost my balance. There would be grazed marks on my knees. My reactions were swift and his cock did not come out of my mouth. There were laughs from the men when my tits swung uncontrollably a few times. It is a bittersweet experience because it can be a bit painful since they are so large, but it is intoxicating to know they are amused and most likely aroused by the sight of me.
My face remained planted against him until he told me to get up. “Grey Squad, put your equipment away and you are free until dinner. A shuttle is ready to take you up to the arena which is reserved for you for two hours. I suggest you take these whores and have yourselves a good old fashioned clusterfuck before dinner. After that, the usual reward applies. Dismissed.”
Grey Squad cheered and one of them grabbed my arm and tugged me along. The usual reward is that I am the property of Grey Squad for the next three days. None of my Blue Squad are allowed any sexual contact with me, or any whore, during that time. The impending clusterfuck was my more immediate issue. Trixie and I were about to be gangbanged by twenty guys in zero gravity.
Still, travelling through space and living on remote planets and moons brings considerable risk beyond the obvious issues of a suitable environment to support life. People of any standing could captured as slaves or hunted for sport by one of the more aggressive races. A few humans even started preying on those more vulnerable and selling their own kind into slavery for personal gain. That sort of business was by no means new, but selling to aliens from different parts of the galaxy opened a new market with greater rewards and, for a time, a low risk of being caught. Occasionally, there were stories that those arranging to sell others were also taken, presumably to be slaves themselves. They are the only ones who deserve it, if you ask me.
It was my respect and gratitude for those who risked their lives for everyone else that inspired me to sign up with the IGN. That was what led to my current situation. Sliding on my stomach through wet grass in the pouring rain, we crept along the surface of a moon I had never seen before. Three of us approached a small outpost which lay directly in our path as we descended the foothills. Something in the air smelled good and I wanted to eat. Getting to this point had taken several hours and I only had a small portion of dried rations a couple miles back. These exercises always made me nervous, but everyone was using nerve guns which only stunned. Hopefully, any injuries should be minor.
Krudge lead by a few yards and took an unexpected slide down the hill as a bank gave out beneath him. My own training does not emphasize the usual combat and field survival skills and did not really prepare me for this. They did try giving me a laser pistol when I first enlisted, but I freak out and have no ability to aim at all. After a psych evaluation, it was determined that putting me through the necessary training for combat would be detrimental to my primary responsibilities. Thus, my role in this exercise was the civilian being escorted through hostile territory.
With my limited field experience, it was not clear if the bank slide was natural or a trap. Krudge stopped himself by a fallen tree which reminded me of the large oaks back on Earth. It was at least four feet thick. Reggie and I waited for Krudge to check out his new position. He slipped under the big tree and continued down the slope to better cover and signaled for us to follow.
The wet grass let me slide much faster than I expected. I went down on my back, feet first, zooming towards that monstrous tree. Part of the trunk was covered in a blue moss-like growth. My feet slipped and I continued to slide underneath. As much as I love my boots, they are not as helpful in this situation as what the guys wear. It had been a long time since I questioned the wisdom of my boots. They have tall wedge heels and a fairly basic tread, which looks great but is more suited to urban life.
My reactions were much too slow. I had barely accepted the fact that I would keep sliding all the way down the slope when my body stopped. Pressure on my chest made it difficult to breathe. Momentum had jammed me under the tree and I was stuck. I lost my composure and panicked until Reggie appeared next to me. When I looked up at him, I tried to ignore the raindrops in my eyes. Reggie grinned, "Your tits are always getting you in trouble, Dexa?"
My entire wardrobe was now under scrutiny. Most of the time I love them, but this was one of those rare moments when a DuraBust form supporting bra was not helpful. The design prevents my boobs from dropping around my sides even though I was on my back. Their ads claimed they keep a woman in the same form as Larcroft, the ancient goddess of love. She was said to have the perfect body, far beyond natural proportions of mortals, and was the most beautiful goddess ever.
My implants were several times the natural size my petite frame warranted, another of my attempts to resemble the goddess. The reinforced mesh in my bra preserved a perky shape which refused to fit through the gap. Reggie looked down, planting his boots on the trunk just above my head. It was clear from his face that he was trying very hard not to laugh. He reached for my chest and gave one boob a squeeze. In turn, I gave him by best offended expression. Reggie always made me smile.
My reliable friend hoisted me out by my uniform with one hand. I put my feet on the tree to stabilize myself and silently thanked him by kissing my hand and then giving him a pat on the groin. I inched sideways along the trunk to where the gap underneath was wider and slid through easily. Reggie waited for me to get to the bottom before following.
Together again, our trio crept closer to the structure. Stun guns zapped around us. Before I knew where they were, the enemy team had taken out Krudge and Reggie. I felt the temporary discomfort that precedes loss of muscle control in both of my legs. I could barely move; my upper body strength has never been great.
A body landed on top of me and we rolled. I screamed as another blurred figure zoomed toward my face. Someone said, “Shut your hole,” and something was shoved into my mouth. The smell registered first, but that sensation of not being able to close my mouth due to a cock taking residence there was very familiar. This particular cock was new to me and it was not wasting time with a polite introduction. The cock had friends in the form of two strong hands that pushed me onto it. We were getting closely acquainted. The cock was rammed down my throat and held there. Hair tickled my nose, nearly causing me to sneeze. My chin brushed a very furry pair of testicles, which led me to conclude that the man fucking my face was a half-breed mixed with one of the more hairy races.
The person who jumped on top of me had moved behind me. I was on held down on my left side and felt a sting on my right hip. The pinpoint burning of a medical field knife was hard to forget. They have no actual blade, but burn through the fabric without serious harm to skin. Although not particularly painful, it is sort of a torturous tickling that you want to rub for several hours after. It still stung and would leave a mark for a couple days. After cutting through my uniform the man behind me unzipped and I felt his cock searching for a place to go. The man had a high grade lubricant which made penetration no obstacle at all.
My face was buried in furry man’s groin while the other held my hip and bucked against me as fast as he could go. I supposed Krudge and Reggie could see what was happening, but they would not dare to break protocol and shout for help because they were “dead” by the rules of the exercise. Things were not looking good for my guys.
The overexcited man behind me should see his doctor about his premature ejaculation, but in this particular case it was probably an advantage. He released inside me in less than thirty seconds. After a moment to pause and enjoy being inside me, he withdrew and moved away.
Fucking me earns his team points. Krudge and Reggie were supposed to prevent it. Oops! There is no need to feel sorry for me. I signed up for this. No one wants to rely on me to hold a weapon and defend them, but I can fuck all day and usually do. Consider it my small contribution to your freedom.
While mildly disorienting, I am accustomed to the rapid movement of my head on the shaft of a hard cock. If that is how a guy wants it, I much prefer for him to put in all that effort. That is how it was in this instance. When the furry man paused for a moment, that is when my pulse raced. Another face loomed over me. Only able to turn my face slightly with a stiff cock deep in my mouth, I looked up at the face of a Dreck. His scaly, grey face moved in close to mine. The split tongue, which reminded me of a snake, flicked at my cheek and tickled my ear. I squirmed.
The Dreck backed off and bent my legs forward. Since I had no means of resistance, he could place me in whatever position he wanted. His choice left my legs forward ninety degrees. My head fuck resumed, and divided my attention. I could feel the Dreck’s cock. He clearly started too far back and was sliding along the crack of my butt. When he reached my ass, he started to push. Did he want to fuck my ass or was he confused? I tried to reach down and move him to my pussy, but my arm was quickly pinned behind my back.
The next few minutes were an intense sexual workout for me. The difficulty in fucking a Dreck is that their cocks are rough compared to human cocks. They leave a girl sore after the event even when they are gentle, plus their girth increases with their approaching climax as their fertilizing seeds accumulate in the cock.
My legs may have been stunned, but I had no loss of sensitivity in my butt. The Dreck showed no mercy on my ass, which began to feel raw. I longed for better lube. His balls hit me like stones as they slapped my butt with each thrust. The longer he fucked me the more he stretched my ass. I could not help whimpering in response to increasing anal dilation.
My discomfort excited the furry man. Hot sticky spurts of salty cum sprayed inside my mouth. He continued to hold me down, either to keep me quiet or hold me still for the dreck.
Eventually, the Dreck released. It happens instantaneously and hit my insides like an exploding water balloon, the sensation as abrupt as a slap in the face. Even when I thought I was ready for it, my body jolted. On the plus side, the Dreck’s cock deflated just as quickly and he pulled out. I was grateful he was not in my mouth. For those who enjoy the taste of it, a dreck can produce a meal sized bowl for you, provided you can contain its delivery.
It was time to move out. There were only three guys in the group that attacked and they had all cum in me. The one who fucked my pussy picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. Being carried like that with stunned legs left me in constant fear of falling since I could not feel his grip on my legs. The Dreck had filled me with much more cum than humans and my ass could not contain it. Warm streaks slowly oozed up my back.
In case it is not obvious, I love my job. Not only do I get to fuck fit men constantly, I am their prized possession. The ones who have me want to keep me. The opposition makes a concerted effort to fuck and claim me. Some call me a whore, and they are correct, but my official title is Morale Officer.
The officer title is slightly misleading. Morale Officers only have authority in specific circumstances, never in combat. My personal suspicion is that someone thought the men would enjoy fucking a woman who outranks them, so they made this position an officer. As the title suggests, I am responsible for morale. Clearly, I cannot do everything, but a good fuck or blowjob can go a long way with a bunch of guys who have limited female contact. The core of my job is to look after the guys in my squad, but I may be called upon to serve anyone at any time.
When it comes to exercises like the current one, our opponents do not care what rank I am. Thus, even a Private can force his dick anywhere he likes. Without uniforms, I had no idea what rank the man carrying me held. They took me back to their base without incident. My legs slowly regained feeling while two new men, both human, took their turns fucking me. Shortly after that, the siren wailed, indicating the end of the exercise. Part of me suspected that it had been delayed just so these last two men could fuck me.
Everyone gathered for the debriefing. I stood in the front row with my Blue Squad. Reggie was standing, but Krudge was in a hoverchair, as were a few others, still affected by the stun gun. Grey Squad was lined up similarly next to us. They only had two men in chairs to our six.
The Drill Master shouted at us and praised the greys for a bit. “Whores, front and center.” I knew Trixie, the Grey Squad whore. She had attitude towards all the rest of us whores, but I do not rate her highly. We have ways of rating our peers based on how the men talk about us. She will be smug after this exercise, thinking she had defeated me personally.
We stood side by side. Trixie looked immaculate, like she just got dressed for exercises. I had no pants and my shirt was muddy and ripped. I was in the better position. All the guys in both squads would be looking at me not Trixie. A twisted part of me loved standing there, exposed for everyone to see. Many eyes checking out my pussy, ass and legs, which I knew looked good with my four inch heels, was always a good thing. This moment is why I wear my heeled boots on exercises. A whore in flats is like a stun gun with no charge. Well, perhaps not quite, since I am by no means useless without them.
My guys felt ashamed, I knew that. Then they had it shouted at them. After the Drill Master finished berating the men for letting the enemy fuck their whore, he paced in front of the two us, looking us over meticulously. He traced his finger over the pocket on Trixie’s shirt and then groped her breast. Trixie smiled.
Trixie preferred the natural body. Her bust was a meager 0.4 liters, smaller than even the natural average. With me he examined my bust, leaning his head one way, then the other. “Those are massive.”
Trixie snorted, “Completely fake, sir.”
“Completely organic, sir.” I proudly pushed my chest out a little more.
“So, you’re Dexa.” It almost sounded like a question. The corner of my mouth curled. I assume he knew of me by reputation. His expression did not change. “I like ‘em.”
Yes! Eat that, Trixie. Of course, I only said this in my mind.
His hand felt my left breast and slid around underneath. Having a man touch me in front of so many witnesses made me more aroused than when the grey squad guys fucked me. “Show me.” He withdrew his hand. It was common for me to be on display, but I was unable to discern if this was for his personal benefit or part of his demonstration to the men. Either way, I was eager to show him. They all watched as I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. My DuraBust bra is tight when I pull it over my tits and makes them bounce when the break free. It often elicits an audible response and the Drill Master's subtle sigh was just what I wanted to hear.
This left me in my favorite uniform. The Fucking Uniform is the minimum a whore is allowed to wear while on standard duty. It consists of a three inch band around my left upper-arm which displays my rank and current squad assignment and then a pair of boots or shoes. The boots are a health and safety requirement, apparently. The “whore band” stays on even in bed, because when I am in bed I am still on duty and my rank has to be easily visible. I have no bed of my own, and am only allowed to sleep alone one night in eight.
The Drill Master felt me up again, lifting my breasts to feel the weight. They may not be natural, but they look and feel natural, unlike cheaper enlargements. He spoke up so everyone could hear him, “How long has it been since Grey Squad planted seeds in your pussy?”
“About ten minutes, sir.”
“I can’t hear you,” he shouted. I repeated my answer, matching his volume. “And tell me, whore, who was responsible for guarding your pussy from the cocks of Grey Squad?” I gave him Reggie and Krudge’s names. He had them come forward. He must have picked Krudge for being in a hoverchair. He pointed at Krudge, “Make him lick your pussy.”
Krudge was not some unknown soldier. He was a friend. He loves long slow blowjobs and fast doggy style, but dislikes when anyone cums on my face. However unlikely it might be that I ever found myself in real combat at his side, we still had a bond of trust which I was not willing to jeopardize. “No, sir.”
The Master was in my face immediately, asking if I dared disobey an order. I stood my ground. It was my job. My men were important to me, and I do consider them my men. This part was my test and I would not let them down. Their training makes them tough, I keep them sane. Following the Master’s order would not help Krudge and as a Morale Officer it is my prerogative to refuse sexual orders if I believe them to be detrimental to my responsibilities. Besides that, I could see a couple of my guys smiling. They may not tell stories about the whore who saved their life in the field, but they are just as animated when they tell stories of a whore taking one for the team to preserve their dignity. I earned my reputation by doing whatever is necessary.
“Drop and give me twenty, whore!”
“Yes, sir.” My body goes all tingly when I kneel to give a blowjob in front of a large audience. I unzipped the Master’s uniform and extracted his cock. I caught Krudge’s eye and winked before I went down on the Master. Some whores feel intimidated by the aggressive situation and do it quickly. Since I love my job and thrive on cock, I prefer to take my time and enjoy it. If giving head was not satisfying enough on its own, it is exhilarating when forty men get an erection watching me perform. Upon completion of twenty head bobs on the Master’s penis, I asked, “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Shut the fuck up, whore! And don’t let my dick come out of your mouth until I am done speaking.” Did he know it turns me on to be addressed like that, especially with an audience? I tried to resume a normal blowjob but the Master had other ideas. He began to pace. He was not going to beat me. I swung one arm around the Master’s waist and held on tight. The other gripped his belt just above my head. Stumbling and half skipping, I did my best to predict his movements, but he was being deliberately erratic. Several times, I lost my balance. There would be grazed marks on my knees. My reactions were swift and his cock did not come out of my mouth. There were laughs from the men when my tits swung uncontrollably a few times. It is a bittersweet experience because it can be a bit painful since they are so large, but it is intoxicating to know they are amused and most likely aroused by the sight of me.
My face remained planted against him until he told me to get up. “Grey Squad, put your equipment away and you are free until dinner. A shuttle is ready to take you up to the arena which is reserved for you for two hours. I suggest you take these whores and have yourselves a good old fashioned clusterfuck before dinner. After that, the usual reward applies. Dismissed.”
Grey Squad cheered and one of them grabbed my arm and tugged me along. The usual reward is that I am the property of Grey Squad for the next three days. None of my Blue Squad are allowed any sexual contact with me, or any whore, during that time. The impending clusterfuck was my more immediate issue. Trixie and I were about to be gangbanged by twenty guys in zero gravity.
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