I nodded, and Jones stepped against her ass. He guided himself into her still open, slimy asshole and sank inside her in a single stroke. I watched with some interest, taking in the look of humiliation on Amanda’s face as well as the look of pure, dumb pleasure on his. It was too good a scene to miss; I got the VCR recorder out of my bag of toys and began filming. The boys were too wrapped up in Amanda to object. The scene was even better on the small screen of the viewfinder. Particularly the sight of his cock stretching and opening her asshole even wider than before. It was making squishy sounds as it moved around inside her, stretching her little anus into a great big O around his cock. I panned up her body. Amanda’s breasts moved back and forth with his strokes, the gold oak leaf piercing one of them shining in the bright lights of the shower. She was covered with sweat which also shined in the harsh lights. I could see her muscles moving under her shiny skin. I centered the viewfinder on her face next. The look of fear and humiliation in her face was tremendous. I was sorry I couldn’t see her eyes for the blindfold, but I liked the idea that she didn’t know who was raping her ass, that she was not only helpless but blind as well. I filmed the rape as it unfolded, recording her body as it struggled helplessly against the man’s cock. Too soon he was finished, and a third penny landed on her broad back. One thing had to be done first though. I whispered to Amanda:

“Ask for another slut!”

Through the sobs I could barely hear, “Pleasee Sir…May I…I have an…another.” As Wilson buttfucked her, I filmed it, starting by filming the three coins stuck to her back by her sweat. Then I panned down to the cock invading her ass, forcing the other men’s come out of her to run down into her cunt. By now the name plate was long gone, knocked out of her by the force of the men’s strokes up her ass. Panning down, I found it in the viewfinder, lying between her feet with great gobs of whitish come covering it. Her legs were beginning to buckle, only the ropes kept her upright I think. I kept filming until the pressure against my cock became too great. Finally I had to find some relief. I opened my fly and stood against her face, guiding my cock into her mouth. Amanda didn’t resist as I guided it into her mouth. At first, I kept a thumb between her back teeth just in case, but she didn’t have any fight left in her. In a moment I was fucking her face like it was a cunt. She gagged and choked under me, her mouth and tongue unknowingly massaging my cock as she tried to breath. One handed, I went back to the filming, concentrating on recording the cock plowing in and out of her slack asshole. Sanders and Jones were pretty used up , and Wilson was fading fast. I had enough presence of mind to tell Sanders to find some more of his friends to help us out. I’d planned it that way; I wanted everybody involved. And I wanted the invitation to come from somebody else.

Wilson was grunting like the pig he was as he fucked her, pounding into her ass like a jackhammer. I was pounding my cock into her face, forcing my cock past her tonsils down into her throat. We picked up a common rhythm. I had to put down the camera and concentrate on the fucking. I used both hands now on her head, holding it steady as I fucked her face. The two of us had her trapped between us; we were impaling her body from both ends. All Amanda could do was grunt and moan as we used her. We finished at about the sametime. I forced her to swallow my come- it felt like there was at least a gallon of the stuff. The come filled her mouth and overflowed onto her chin despite her best effort to choke it down. I left it there, dripping from her thick lips onto her chin when I withdrew.

When four more men arrived I explained the rules to them, one penny a fuck. After the next penny landed on her back and Amanda said her “Please sir, may I have another”, the next man was in her. He took her in the cunt; Amanda’s asshole was getting a bit sloppy by now. I let a few use her before I brought out the camera again. By then there were nine or ten pennies on her back, one for each rape she had endured so far. I gave her a couple of puffs on the opium pipe to keep her going. She was moaning constantly as she drifted off into her private hell; but for the ropes suspending her, she would have ended up face down on the concrete floor. Over the rest of the evening, more men arrived, and the ones who had already had her came back for more. I filmed man after man using her cunt or ass, slapping her butt, squeezing her hanging breasts- using her like the slut she now was. Slowly the pile of pennies grew until they covered her back and fell onto the floor. I alternated between giving her puffs of opium and short blasts from the TA-312 to keep her both going and aware of what was happening to her. I wanted her to know that she had become the bitch dog for her own men; that she was being fucked and sodomized by a gang of 18 to 22 year olds- Whites, Blacks, and a couple in-between- all of whom she outranked.

Rank was very big with her, you know. And I filmed it all to show to her later! I filmed the streams of come running out of her asshole and cunt, dripping onto the floor to cover her name plate until all the camera could read of it was the AM of AMANDA. I filmed the pile of coins growing slowly, each one representing the humiliation of another rape. I tell you, I missed my calling. I would have made a fortune in Hollywood- if Hollywood did this sort of show. I don’t know how long it went on. It seemed as if there was an endless stream of men using her. I counted the pennies later. There were 26 pennies from the eleven men,. plus one from me for a total of 27 rapes of her ass or cunt. I didn’t charge the men using her face. I paid my penny when I took her in the ass after I had rested from coming in her mouth. Fucking her ass felt unreal; I felt as if my cock was in a thick, warm soup made up of the come of other men. And her ass chute was loose. It was like fucking a twenty dollar whore’s cunt on payday. How very different from that first time I took her ass! God, she was a mess! Her asshole was wide open and dripping come. Her muscular ass was covered in our come; it was running out of both her holes in a steady stream to cover her crotch.

It ran in greyish white streams down her leg. Even the floor underneath her was sticky with the white stuff. Several men had not been able to wait; they had shoot their loads onto her blindfolded face, leaving her cheeks, forehead, and even her short hair covered with their white come. Her full red lips and her chin were coated with my come and that of three or four other men who had used her mouth. The rest of her strong body was soaking wet from her sweat and the sweat of the men using her; it glued the pennies covering her back to her skin despite the pounding she was getting from the cock of the man raping her. Her weight rested on the ropes around her back and chest now, letting her upper body move back and forth in time with the thrusts of the cock rutting in her ass or cunt. Her arms were pointing almost straight up, twisting those arms almost out of her shoulder joints. Her breasts were a deep angry red both from the abuse they got from the men and from the way the ropes cut into the bases of each breast, closing the veins just beneath the skin and keeping the blood trapped in her breasts. Her nipples were swollen from the trapped blood until they were as large as my thumb.

The pressure of the trapped blood was so great that I could see drops of blood oozing out of her skin around the golden oak leaf piercing her right nipple. I had made Amanda into a Cumbucket- just as I had promised her. And with each penny, she softly ask, “Please Sir, may I have another.” She did it automatically; I rarely had to remind her with the generator. I saved the pennies for Amanda, you know. I put them in a plastic bag which I later hung around her neck. I wanted her to have something to remember that night by.

I had one more thing I wanted of her. First I had to get her attention since by now she was just hanging in the cat’s cradle I’d made for her. I cranked the generator as hard as I could- the sound got through to her instantly, and then I touched the pointer to her slit, forcing it past the little hood to her clit itself. I kept it there as she danced and twitched, holding it study against her skin until her scream broke into a horse croak. Then I scooped up a handful of the come running out of her ass and brought it to her face. It was a mixture of her shit and the come of a dozen men, luke warm, drying, and sticky, enough to fill the palm of my hand. I held the pool of scum to her mouth and whispered into her ear, “Lick it up Slut”

Amanda cleaned my hand of the come, slowly and painfully licking it into her mouth like a cat would lick up a bowl of milk. It took a long time until the come puddle was gone. When the palm of my hand was clean and shiny, and I took my hand away; she croaked weakly, “Please sir, may I have another.”

After the gang bang in the showers, things settled into a comfortable routine-at least for me. The degradation of being raped by every one of the twelve soldiers under her command had broken Amanda’s spirit and with it her resistance. Major Amanda Thompson had become Major Slut both in her own drug ravaged mind and in the minds of the soldiers who had raped her. After that night I owned them all. She became my cum slut; they were too deeply into this to betray me. I was on top of the world. Everything was going great! Which , of course, was when it all began to turn to shit.

I can say I wasn’t stingy with Amanda’s body. I shared the wealth. I took plenty for myself, of course. I liked taking her by myself. I liked the wet feel of her mouth wrapped around my cock or the tight warmth of her ass. But it wasn’t just sex. I liked using my bare hand on her bottom, and I enjoyed using the rawhide whip I braided - a quirt like I used to use breaking horses when I was a kid- on that strong, sweaty body of Amanda’s - on her ass and upper legs, her stomach, even on her cunt as she hung in a spread eagle from the door frame. I really liked using the field telephone on her too; it could make that tall, strong body of her’s move in impossible ways against the ropes holding her. I was fascinated by the amount of punishment her muscular, but so womanly body could take. Even more, I liked the feeling of power I had over this beautiful woman, the woman who had been my boss. And most of all I liked showing off that power I had over her.

When Amanda had taken over the station- back before I made into my slut- she had forced everyone to take PT every morning. They hated that, especially the long runs where she excelled. I stopped the PT, of course. But I decided to keep the runs. Only now, Amanda would do them alone. I liked her strong body and wanted to keep it hard and fit. All the better to abuse, you see. What better way to do that and to demonstrate my power over her than by making her run in endless circles- nude- as her former subordinates jeered her and whipped her on. I sank a metal pipe in the packed dirt area where we held the morning formation. I fitted a slightly smaller pipe into it and then added an elbow and then two more lengths of pipe joined together to make a shoulder height twelve foot arm which swung freely in a circle around the sunken pipe. On the end of that arm, I spot welded a short length of chain. I finished it about three days after the shower room gang rape. The next morning at formation, I brought Amanda out, nude but for her heavy combat boots. I had tied her hands to the back of the dog collar that she now wore almost constantly. I paraded her in front of the men, pulling her along by a leash attached to the front of that dog collar, letting them get a good look at her nude body. I loved the look of humiliation on Amanda’s downcast, flushed face as I marched her nude in front of the men she used to command, especially when they began to chant " Major Slut…Major Slut…Major Slut". As their chants echoed painfully in her ears, I took Amanda to the end of the metal pipe and secured her leash to the length of chain on its end. Then I blindfolded her. I left her there and went back to the front of the formation.

" Listen up, people! New PT program. Participation is voluntary, but I think you’ll want to be part of it. We’re going to start today with a two mile run. The Major will do the running; we’ll provide the motivation to help her keep going. To motivate her, you’ll need something painful enough to get her attention, but nothing that will break the skin. Or I’ll break yours! You have three minutes to arm yourselves, or we’ll start without you. MOVE OUT!"

As I waited, I walked over to Amanda. She was shivering, perhaps the result of the cold morning air on her nude body, more likely her fear of what was to come. Her blindfolded face was turning this way and that, trying desperately to see what was happening. I hadn’t told her anything about what I planned to do. She had heard what I told the men. Now I had a private word for her.

" Listen Slut. You have a long run ahead of you- two hundred times around this circle. If you don’t make that two hundred times, if you fall and stay down, then you belong to them. I’ll let them rape your ass. Not just now, but all day long. I’ll leave you out here in the open all day- until dark. Any man- American or Korean- who wants you can rape you a dozen times. Asshole or cunt- I don’t care. And no drugs. Only if you make it, do you get your pipe. Understand? We’ll start out slow today. But you’ll be running the two miles in fifteen minute before long. "

I have to say that the men showed more imagination than I gave them credit for. They came back with a lovely collection of makeshift torture instruments: several wet towels, a half dozen leather belts, a couple of electrical cords where the end had knotted and the tip stripped of insulation to produce a crude wire scourge, and one long, heavy wooden dowel rod. I formed them in a circle around the post and then gave the blindfolded Amanda the order to start running. She did fine for the first fifteen minutes, covering about two thirds of the distance, running strongly and smoothly, concentrating on her breathing and trying to ignore the obscene remarks and threatening catcalls of the unseen men. She ran beautifully with an animal grace, her body soon covered with a sheen of sweat despite the cool temperature, her large breasts bobbing painfully in time with her stride. Only when she began to slow her pace noticeably did I signal the men to start using their makeshift whips on her. Amanda, of course, didn’t see my signal since she was blindfolded. The first man to make contact was using an electric cord scourge. He caught her across her buttocks with a hard swing, leaving a roadmap of tiny red lines on the untanned flesh.

The blindfolded Amanda gave a startled cry and bolted like a frightened filly. As she passed each man, he added his belt or wet towel to the assault on her butt, except for the fellow with the dowel rod. He laid that squarely across her chest, striking both Amanda’s breasts at the same time with a solid “thud”. That was when she screamed, a sharp, banshee like wail. By now a torrent of blows was covering her strong, sweaty body, striking her on the buttcheeks, the lower legs, the back, on her flat stomach, and on her bobbing breasts with wet towels, belts, and frayed electric cords. Each blow wasn’t that painful, but the cumulative effect must have been mind numbing. Blinded, attacked from all sides, the pain making thought impossible- it all seemed to overwhelm her. For a moment, Amanda slowed, as if she wanted to give up, to escape the pain of the whips even at cost of the pain and humiliation of spending the rest of the day as their fuck toy. Then she got her second wind. The thought of what giving up would mean- especially the thought of doing without the drugs- must have given her new strength. She began to run and run hard. Amanda bent forward a little, as if she were running against a strong wind, and covered her face with her forearms.

She still had some sixty rounds to go yet. She ran as fast as she could, all thoughts of pacing herself gone. After 25 rounds, Amanda’s legs began to wobble, but still she keep running, driven on by the men’s blows and her own desperate needs. With only 35 more rounds to go, Amanda was running on pure fear, as panic stricken as a run away horse. As she ran our circular gauntlet, Amanda’s muscular body literally poured sweat; it flew off her on to the men as she ran forward against their blows. The expanse of her nude body was covered in small welts and bruises, small red areas which spread and merged until her nude body was a solid, angry red from her knees to her shoulders. Even her cunt couldn’t escape the punishment. The snap of numerous wet towels- and the tortured, strangled screams from Amanda- marked each hit on this most sensitive part of her anatomy. If Amanda had the breath to spare, I’m sure she would have screamed out her fear and her agony until the sound would have deafened us. But she didn’t have any breath to spare; she needed every bit of oxygen she could suck into her lungs just to keep going for that last 35 turns around my circular hell.

And she did. Just as I said I would, I stopped the men when she reached the two mile mark. Amanda didn’t stop. Her red, whipped body kept moving, staggering forward, unaware or unable to comprehend that it was over. I watched her body struggle forward, automatically putting one foot in front of the other, spellbound, for almost two full rounds before I stepped in front of her and stopped her. She collapsed in my arms.

I kept up her PT program. But I never again used the entire unit against her. Myself and four men vs Amanda were the usual breakdown. Later, three men and one woman; but, I am getting ahead of myself here. It became a much sought after privilege to be one of those four men- to be one wielding the leather whips I eventually had made for this purpose rather being one of those watching from the barracks. Amanda had strength and determination- or maybe it was desperation. She finished every run- except one! Only once did she break down and give up. Then I was true to my word. I left her there until dark. Her body was the property of any man who wanted it- to use as he wished. I let them use her there out in the open, left her there all day as she was fucked, sodomized, face-fucked, kicked, and pissed on by every man who could find an excuse to pass that way. She was shaking with withdrawals, covered in cum and barely conscious when I retrieved her at dusk. Just as I promised.

I also shared her body with the other enlisted men twice a week, regular gang rapes which I held out in the open in the club now rather than hidden in the showers. A penny a fuck, everyone welcome. Three holes; no waiting. The men loved using her, and a couple of them were pretty imaginative in thinking up ways to do it. They also liked humiliating her. That’s why they favored taking her in the asshole and raping her face. Brutal and degrading sex. They especially liked reminding her that she was- or used to be- their commanding officer. I suppose that was why they liked to see her in her uniform. At first I would bring her in wearing just an unbuttoned class “B” blouse, a light green shirt with two large black shoulder boards with her golden Major’s rank on the shoulders. But those light things didn’t last the night. The men tore them to shreds. So, I started using something more durable. I dressed her in her battledress uniform, the camouflaged pants and shirt with nothing on underneath, and her combat boots. The men got a kick out of unwrapping her: unbuttoning her shirt to expose those big breasts of hers- one nipple still bearing Amanda’s gold leaf as a piercing- and dropping her pants to her ankles to get at her other goodies.

I got a kick out of it too. Either way, I’d have her hands cuffed behind her back and some drugs in her to ensure Amanda’s cooperation. She’d usually start on her knees as their suck slave in search of her cum facial, but would end up bent over a table soon enough, a man in each end. They liked calling her names as they used her- Major Slut, Major Cumbucket, whore, bitch, … every hurtful, degrading name a man can call a woman. I’d be there by her side as they did all this, where I wouldn’t miss anything, and where I could keep an eye on what they were doing to her. Making sure they paid their pennies. Her protector and her tormentor. I would plant myself by Amanda’s head and whisper directions into her ear. Telling her to use her cuffed hands to spread her own asscheeks and let the man waiting to sodomize her see the cum from the men before him roll out of Amanda’s used and abuse back hole, telling her to thank the man who had just dumped his load on her face, or telling her to beg for the big, hard cock somebody was rubbing all over her cum slick face. Like I was directing a movie, and Amanda was my star. And Amanda obeyed- silently and passively, her face a grim mask.

It was all about power for me, but for the others it was simply about raw, brutal sex, about man after sweaty man pounding Amanda into a cum covered oblivion. The men, Black and White alike, were be all over her on these nights, literally burying her under a pile of rutting male bodies. One in her mouth, one in her ass, and one or two just all over her pawing her sweaty body and twisting her red, sore breasts as she serviced the others. By the time they were fucked out, her face and ass were solid white with their drying, sticky cum. It was a great, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. So some nights, I made a little game of raping Amanda, or more properly I made Amanda the prize in a highly unusual, and humiliating, game of chance.

I called it the Wheel of Misfortune. I fixed up a wheel with twelve pie shaped segments and mounted it on the wall in the club. Just like a TV game show. Only the “prizes” were a bit different. I had a cross section of prizes Bob Barker could only dream about:

Rape her mouth
Rape her asshole
Spank the bitch
Phone Call
Give her a Facial
Put the Bite on her
Use belt on her cunt
Major-take a drag
Use belt on her ass
Rape her cunt
Your Choice
Dumb Dog tricks

There was a little something for everyone- even Amanda, though the odds were 11 to 1 against her getting that drag on the opium pipe. Still, it kept her interested in my little game. I loved seeing the hope in her eyes each time the wheel spun, followed by the crushing disappointment as the arrow passed by that thing she wanted more than anything else- her opium pipe. To show it was more or less fair, I let one of the men spin the wheel. I would lead Amanda around, arms tied behind her back and nude but for her light green uniform blouse with her rank on the shoulder boards, to each table by a leash attached to her dog collar. I’d call out a name, and the wheel would spin. Each man got one spin per rotation- we’d have 2 rotations in a night- and then had to carry out the wheel’s commands as the others watched or be barred from the club for the rest of the night. Some were pretty painless- if humiliating. Things like the “facial” where Amanda would kneel before the man as he beat off, waiting to receive a face full of his warm cum. Or the “dumb dog tricks” where Amanda would perform for the man’s amusement by rolling over, playing dead, and - my personal favorite- begging for table scraps.

Now that was quite a sight, the once proud officer on her knees before some private, in the nude but for her open uniform blouse and the major’s insignia piercing her nipple, begging for pieces of fat and gristle. Not much worse was the “Spank me”. I loved seeing the 30ish Amanda turned over the knee of some 20 year old private. He would turn her firm buttocks a bright red with the palm of his hand as Amanda squirmed, squealed, and blushed an equally bright red in her face from the humiliation of being spanked like some schoolgirl. Others were more painful- much more painful. “Putting the bite” on Amanda was one of these. I had taken the serrated, metal jawed clamps off some voltammeters, four of them. I added a loop of wire to each to hold the lead fishing weights I got from the village. Where he used them was up to the man. Amanda’s nipples and cunt lips were favorites. Her earlobes, her lips, and the soft flesh of Amanda’s armpits were used by the more imaginative. Once on, the man would add weights until the strong jawed clamps were pulled off by the increasing weight. The men liked to make bets on how long the clamps would stay on- and how far the weights could stretch Amanda’s puffy red, much abused cunt lips or her large, thick nipples.

Amazing how malleable female flesh is. And how far you can stretch it. Especially the nipples. We could turn them into cones half as long as your finger with about 3 or 4 of the fishing weights. Even more dreaded by Amanda was the "phone call’. Here I used the TA-312 field phone on her as I did in the shower. But differently this time. I attached one wire to a metal dildo like rod I would shove up Amanda’s ass. The other wire went to a similar rod to be put in her cunt. Even with Amanda’s high tolerance for pain, this one make her sweat as soon as the arrow fell on it. Usually, she would piss on herself as the rods went in. That didn’t stop me; it just made the connection better. Even one “ring” would leave her withering on the floor, barely conscious. That was the one she feared most. The rest fell somewhere between these poles. I don’t know which was worse in Amanda’s mind- the belt or the sex. She had become use to being our whore, and she had a high tolerance for pain. I suspect the humiliation of the sex, of being fucked or sodomized in front of a crowd while crawling on her knees like a bitch in heat wore on her most though. Amanda dreaded these game nights more than the straight gang rapes.

Here she had to be part of her own degradation, had to humiliate herself in front of the men who had once been her subordinates, her inferiors. She couldn’t just lie back and submit as she could in the gang rapes. That blow to what was left of her pride was as painful to her as any physical blow. Even this was not enough. I wanted more.