Inspection part 2

PVT Shuket jumped into action, running into her barracks to lock up her rifle. When she got to SGT Hardy's office (one minute and fifty-three seconds later), he was there waiting. Sitting behind his desk. He had removed his rain-drenched jacket and sat there in a wet t-shirt. The outline of his muscular chest was well defined. His arms were covered in intricate tattoos. He looked even more intimidating now that ever before. Defiance was not an option that crossed her mind.

As she stood at parade rest before him, he let the awkward silence sink in. Finally, he spoke. "What in the hell kinda name is 'Shuket' anyway? Sounds a lot like 'suck it.'" She started to speak but he raised his hand to stop her.

"I think you have a problem with authority, young lady. We need to correct that. Right now." he said in his deep, serious voice. "First we need to see what other contraband you might be concealing on your body," he growled. She couldn't see that he was rubbing his hard cock through his fatigue pants since he was behind the desk. "PVT Shuket, remove your shirt..."

She quickly pulled her wet shirt from her body, her breasts bouncing with her sudden movements. She dropped it to the floor and resumed parade rest. Her nipples very erect like pink gumdrops pierced with chromed steel.

"What the HELL do you think your doing PVT! You dropped your uniform shirt on my office floor like its trash?!? You don't have any respect do you? I will teach you some respect since you need it so badly"! Scared she flinched, unsure what to do.

"PICK IT UP PRIVATE SUCK IT"! She does, very quickly. "Now fold it and place it in that chair"! He yells, pointing at a hard backed chair. She folds it neatly and resumes the position He notices that she did not seem to object to the mispronunciation of her last name. He squeezed his raging hard cock harder through his uniform pants, hidden behind the desk. "Now the shoes and socks. Turn around first"...

He watches the Pvt turn and bend over at the waist, causing the clingy wet material of her fatigue pants to form around her tight ass as if painted on. A few uncoordinated hops later and she places the wet socks inside her boots beside the chair. "Now your pants, PVT Suck It." Although she can hardly believe this is happening, she doesn't hesitate. Unbuckling the belt and buttons, the wet pants come down past her curvy hips. The rain soaked all the way through to her panties. The black lacy material contrasts sharply with her pale skin. They cling to her like a second skin as she bends to pick up her pants. Folding them neatly, she places them with her boots and shirt.

PVT Shuket returns to parade rest, clothed now only in panties and bra. Her nipples are still erect thanks to the wet cloth and cool air conditioning in the office. She tries not to show her anxiety as she stares at the wall directly behind. She feels **** and exposed. There is another feeling, one she didn't expect. She isn't even sure exactly what it is but she is aware that the moisture in her panties it isn't just from the rain.

"You're not done yet," SGT Hardy said. "Get the rest of that shit off, NOW!" "Yes, SGT." Her voice is barely above a whisper. Unclasped, the bra falls to the floor. Her large pale breasts are fully exposed to her SGT. She glances quickly at his face but he shows no expression except perhaps contempt. Grasping the waistband at her hips, she pulls the panties down. Bending over to pull them away from her feet, the site of her beautiful tits makes Hardy almost gasp. Almost. She stands before him now.

Fully exposed. Chrome bars piercing her pink nipples. Her pubic hair neatly trimmed. Hardy wasn't sure he could get any more erect. Standing up, he moves out from behind his desk. The bulge in his pants is obvious. When he's directly in front of her, he pinches each nipple & bar. "Definitely not government issue, PVT, not even remotely authorized. You knew that when you enlisted, didn't you, Suck It?" "Yes, SGT."

"You know I'm going to have to punish you, right?" Unbuttoning his pants, his hard cock emerges forcefully and stands at its own version of attention. The head is filled with blood, a swollen and purple helmet for the meaty "soldier".

"Yes, SGT, I need to be punished."