Military Appreciation

Adrelia Markov saluted as her Master stepped onto the deck. As was tradition, she saluted by jumping up and down so her tits bounced as much as possible. It was to her great honor that her regiment was hosting her most supreme commander on this day. As such, she had drilled her cohort’s behavior to the muscle twitch. Everything would be perfect for him, including herself. So she and her subordinates all saluted by jumping repeatedly until their Master told them to stop.

“Welcome, Master. The 5th Gareslich Corps welcomes you on board the M.S.S. Subjugation.” She made sure that her mouth drooled the appropriate amount so that it just slightly dripped out of her mouth and onto her cleavage. Her uniform was strategically open to reveal the tops of her breasts and just barely cut off her nipples so that they could be as tantalizing as possible.

Her Master’s grin seemed to indicate everything was going well. He said as much, but understanding one’s Master was a multifaceted affair, and as such she made sure to read his body language, searching for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, she nodded and directed him to follow her to the command center of the battleship.

As they departed the main deck, she felt his hand come to rest on her rear-end. She cooed as was appropriate. “Thank you, Master. I hope you enjoy my ass.” She made sure to rub her tush against his hand. The ingrained brainwashing that had adjusted her sensitivity to him specifically made the act very pleasurable by itself, and the obedience didn’t hurt either.

They made good time to the bridge. Both of them were in shape, although being a military woman demanded a certain harsher regimen than the one her Master’s personal trainers put him through. The thought never crossed her mind however. Any possible insult to his majesty was unthinkable. Her Master was perfect. His hand groping her ass was perfect.

They arrived and Adrelia performed a similar ritual to the one earlier, welcoming her Master to the bridge and the assembled command staff and high ranking officers who had joined together to present the best possible face for their inspection.

Their Master thanked them for their submission and especially their recent conquests in the South Sea. It had been a series of incredibly dangerous engagements, though thankfully they didn’t have a sense of self preservation and were able to follow high commands, i.e. the genius slaves Master had chosen to direct his troops, without any fear of dying. If they died, it would be a glorious in the service of their Master. If they succeeded -- as they had, then they would receive their Master’s praise, which as the most important thing in the universe.

The girls all came at once as soon as their Master congratulated them, a cacophony of shrieking and screaming and squirting. The floor slickened beneath their feet and some crumbled to the ground from the sheer pleasure of being acknowledged like that. Adrelia was made of sterner stuff and managed to get by with only her tongue lolling out of her mouth for a bit; she certainly didn’t lose control of her legs like some neophyte . Really, she was somewhat disappointed in her command staff. They had been slaves as long as she had, ever since their country had been conquered by their Master’s armies and the women taken and brainwashed to be his ever beautiful soldiers.

But alas, a commander can never expect perfection from her subordinates; she can only hope for it.

Her Master pointed at the captains chair, her chair. She grasped the meaning of his implied request and took a seat. She wedged her butt into it and smiled at her Master, inviting him over. “Your human chair is ready, Master.” She pointed at her lap. “I’ve been told my lap is in the top percentage of comfortability from our statisticians.” She wasn't lying. First of all, she wouldn’t dream of lying to her Master. Second, they did have rankings and assessments of their beauty. It was a constant competition in the military to get to that coveted number one spot. After all, the number ones got to take some shore leave on occasion when their Master requested their presence.

Her Master obliged her and took a seat on her lap. Her pleasure centers exploded. But she held strong! She only moaned just a tiny bit. Her Master asked her logistics officer for a report on the ship’s supplies, and then the engineer for the overall integrity, and so on and so forth. Her Master still hadn’t relinquished his military customs even though he had long since retired from the front. It was her old country, Gareslich, that had been the last one he had personally conquered. All subsequent ones were delegations of brainwashed women soldiers, and thank him for that. She couldn’t bear the thought of living without him. Her programming dictated that she wouldn’t of course, but she didn’t like to think about it in any case.

Satisfied with the state of things, her Master pulled up a console and started adjusting some parameters. It was definitely not her spying over her shoulder, just for the record, that happened to let her see some of the changes. He was modifying their programming core. Each ship had a core that constantly reinforced the programming of the slaves on board. Otherwise they would possibly break free. Adrelia shuddered at the thought.

Her Master was apparently changing their outfits. They were going to all wear fetish versions of Carpscalian fashion. He said that he wanted them like this when they finally conquered Carpscal, so that they could see what awaited them when they were made into his slaves. Adrelia only loosely was aware of what civilian life in Carpscal was, but she knew they favored long coats and dusters. Their outfitter would do the required research and start spinning up a new wardrobe for them all posthaste. The entire crew would be changed in less than a day. Soon enough they’d be wearing dusters with cut-outs for their boobs and asses, or perhaps trench’s with nothing beneath. All of the apparel would naturally be decorated with their Master’s coat of arms and military medals.

With that settled, her Master closed the programming interface and asked for a tour of the mess hall and living quarters. She got up and led the way. She didn’t say it out loud, but she hoped when they got to the living quarters her Master would take the opportunity to breed her. To aid in that, she made sure to add an extra sway to her step and to really let her tits jiggle with every step. They were big enough that her Master could see them from behind her if she moved in the right way, and she most certainly did. Whether her efforts would pay off remained to be seen, but she hadn’t gotten her position as captain by not doing everything within her power to get what she wanted, and what she wanted was her Master’s dick in her pussy. Oh if only she didn’t have entire nations of women to compete with!