Back to boot camp

(This is a smut chapter.)

“17… *huff* 18… *huff*” Surge stands in the middle of the gym, counting off jumping jacks while clad in the camo bikini she’s been forcing other girls to wear. She’s sweating and flushed red, but you have a feeling that might have to do with her outfit more than the exercise. It turns out she takes incredibly good care of her body. It’s nice and toned with an amazing figure, her ass sticking out horizontally, much bigger than her narrow hips have any business supporting. Guess that’s the power of exercise. She can probably handle jumping jacks with ease. It also turns out that she has SOME tits, probably just making the B-cup range. You’d never have known if you didn’t get to see them pulled at a 90 degree angle to her chest by her absurdly small bikini. What a waste that she always dresses in loose-fitting clothes.

You circle behind her, and she tracks you nervously with her eyes until you’re out of her field of vision. “24… *huff* 25… *huff*”

*SMACK* You deliver a sharp blow to her cute, perky ass, causing her to hop two feet away from you and cover her butt with both hands. She turns to look at you, face full of fluster.

“What are you doing woman!? I can’t do jumping jacks with you smacking my ass like a perv!”

“Did I tell you to stop!? Get back to those jumping jacks, Recruit!” Like a well-oiled machine, Surge goes right back to her routine as though her outburst hadn’t even happened. So mouthy, yet so obedient. The epitome of all bark, no bite.

This time, you tug on the front of her bikini top, releasing enough tension to make her adorable little titties bounce around. It’s such a shameful sight. Surge seems to agree as she looks down and sees the spectacle she’s making out of her chest. Her whole face lights up bright crimson and she scowls at you. But she never stops counting. “33… *huff* 34… *huff*”

You walk behind her again and find her butt tensed up, the fruits of her efforts on display as you could probably more than just quarters off this thing. Geez, this girl has an ass of steel… and clearly she’s preparing for you to spank her again. Cute, but that’s not your intention. With one hand, you reach around and hook a finger on the front of her top, again pulling it out of place. The low growl you hear suggests that her boobs are bouncing again. But she makes a very different sound when you rub her nethers from over her camo bottoms.

“Eep! U-Uh, 40… *huff* 41… *huff*”

Now that you’ve got your fingers on it, you realize this useless garment is soaking wet, and it’s probably not just from sweat. Just how turned on is “the high and mighty Surge” from all of this? Let’s test this out.

You apply a little more pressure to her camo-clad cunt and move your hand around a bit. Her legs immediately start shaking. Her pace slows down considerably, and she stutters through the next few numbers. “Is there a problem, Recruit?” you ask innocently.

“Yeah, it’s you!” she snaps, temporarily bringing her exercise to a halt. “You’re feeling me up like a god damn whore in the back of a fucking strip club!” For all her complaints, she doesn’t resist or try to escape your grasp at all.

You lean in close and whisper, “Damn right I am. I’ll do whatever I want to your body. Now follow orders, Recruit.”

You can feel her fury from the volume with which she exhales, but it’s contrasted by a small spurt of love juices splashing out around her embarrassing bikini. With no further argument, she resumes her jumping jacks, and you resume your slow, deliberate rubbing.

You don’t have to speed up. You don’t have to change patterns. As she keeps jumping, her composure gradually fails under this low level of stimulation. By the time she reaches 60, her head is tilted at an angle and she can no longer pronounce the numbers properly, and by the time she reaches 70, what she’s doing no longer qualify as jumping jacks.

“Sehenty… sree… *huuuuff* sehenty… whore… f-f… FUCK! WAIT NO FUCK!” Her entire weight falls back against you as she shudders violently, her routine interrupted by nothing more than a little pussy rubbing from her commanding officer. How pathetic. Still, it’s not like you’re going to stop. You keep rubbing at a constant speed, enjoying the dopey look on her face as she shakes against you, still occasionally flinging her limbs around as if attempting to do a jumping jack. It’s extra pathetic.

Once her orgasm seems to have died down, you rally her back to her duties. “Back to it, Recruit. Just because your cunt finished, doesn’t mean you did.”

“Uh…” Surge is clearly stymied by something. That is, something aside from the fact that she’s still allowing herself to rest in your arms as she rides out her afterglow. Oh. You know what it is.

“You lost count, didn’t you?” you ask accusingly. No answer. “Then you’ll have to start over from 1.”

“Fuck that!” Surge yells, pulling away from you. “Working out is one thing, but making me wear this crap is over the line! And keep your hands off me, you damned molester!”

“Insubordination already, huh? Well, we’ll have to do something about that.” A drop of moisture falls from Surge’s groin. Sweat or arousal? You’re pretty sure you know the answer. You calmly walk up to Surge as she stares at you defiantly without budging an inch. Right up until you shove her backwards and she falls on her ass.

“Ow… What’s your problem Emi-”

*THUD*

Pinning her down by her shoulders, you ask her, “What do you call me?”

“M-M-Ma’am! I’m sorry ma’am!”

“Better. Now, since 100 jumping jacks seem to be beyond you, and you’ve already gotten yourself in the right position for sit-ups, let’s go with 50 of those. Your superior will graciously hold your ankles for you. Be thankful.”

Holding her ankles quickly bores you, so you decide to have a little fun. You pull her ankles apart so you can get a better look at that pathetic pussy of hers. Naturally, she doesn’t object at all. The bikini is so tight you can see the outline of her cunt beneath the camo print. How lewd. But that alone doesn’t compare to the sight of her juices squirting out around the fabric every time she sits up. What a lewd little soldier. You have to tease her more.

As she begins another sit-up, you lean in and breathe on her dripping nethers. “H-Hahh!” She flops back against the ground, her sit-up incomplete. “S-Stop it! I’m trying to do sit-ups. You told me to do these. Stop making it difficult… 12… *huff*” Awwwww. You let her get through a few more before repeating the same motion with the same results. “Stoooooooop…”

“Or what?” you tease.

“Or… I’ll make you stop! You beat me in a pokemon battle, but I could take you in a fight!” Hmm… We’ll see about that.

You leave her poor pussy alone, and she goes back to her sit-ups with a grumble. You carefully remove your bra and tank top, Surge clearly capable of doing sit-ups without you holding her ankles. Then you lean on top of her, placing your boobs in directly in her head’s trajectory. The next time she sits up, her face smacks against your warm, pliable rack. Almost immediately, she loses her sit-up posture entirely as she lavishes your boobs in affection. Wow, talk about an instant loss. She didn’t even last five seconds in the ring against your tits.

“So good… I’m in love…” she mumbles. You feel bad for her, having to enjoy your body in such an uncomfortable pose. Instead, you assume a kneeling position, the little blonde now resting her head on your thighs while groping your boobs enthusiastically. Normally you’d be livid that someone is getting unrestricted access to your boobs like this, since you’re a pure and chaste girl, and your body is a temple. Seeing the effect it’s having on such a feisty girl like Surge, though…

“Mmm… Boobies are the best… Forever, please…” Surge mewls, her toes curling with the last of her rapidly draining might.

…you’ll make an exception. Besides, this position is good for teasing too. You reach a hand beneath her skimpy bottom, hook a finger inside her sopping wet, infernally hot tunnel, and-

“NNNGHHHAAAA!!!” Surge squeals, forming a **** grip on your tits as she trembles below you. Wow, another instant loss? Her pussy answers your question with a few spurts of girlcum. Yup, another instant loss. Her back arches with every contraction and her eyes roll back in her head, yet she never once releases your boobs, seemingly treasuring them beyond anything else. You thought she was jealous of your bust, but apparently she loves it instead.

“Recruit… Recruit…” you call. She’s completely dazed and unresponsive. “Recruit!” She snaps to attention, a look of bewilderment on her face. “Wasn’t there something you were supposed to be doing?”

She thinks on it for several seconds before a look of grim realization hits her features. “Sit-ups…” she says with a gulp.

“That’s right. You just can’t seem to follow orders today. It’s time for punishment, Recruit.”

“P-Please ma’am… Call me Lieutenant… I have a rank and I worked hard for it…” she pouts with upturned eyes. Awww, listen to her. Feebly fighting for that last scrap of dignity. Denied.

“Not right now you’re not. You’re failing at the lowest rung. You don’t even deserve the title Recruit. Just appreciate that I’m not calling you scum.” A lustdrunk smile spreads across her face. Apparently that was the right answer.

You flip her over with her ass pointing up, and deliver a swift blow to one asscheek. “Ahh!” she squeaks. Then the other. “Kyaa!” she yelps again. This will be fun. You continue delivering slaps to her athletic ass, changing speed and intensity to always keep her on her toes. A few times she tries to brace herself for the next smack by flexing, but you just wait until she lets down her guard and looks back in confusion, then make her regret it immensely. For her to fall for the same trick multiple times, though, her brain must be barely functioning at this point.

“*Ahhh!* *OWW!* *Haaau!* M- *KYAAAHHH!!!*” Is it trying to communicate? “More… *OH-OH-OH-OH!!!!!* More! *AHAHH* Punish me more!” Yup. She’s completely lost it. She’s speaking gibberish, and her asscheeks are turning a nice, rosy red. The most merciful thing you can do for her now is put her into her ecstasy. Wait, that’s not how the saying goes. Oh well.

You throw rapid-fire blows against her solid asscheeks, giving her no time to recover before the next one comes. Her erratic moans turn into one long cry that jumps at every spank. “AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH!” Utterly disgraceful for someone in her position. Almost as disgraceful as the pool of love juices she’s leaking all over your leg.

“Recruit, are you going to cum? From your punishment?”

“NAH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH!” she screams, her denial getting caught up in the waterfall of cute wails. She’s such a liar. She’s lying and you’ll prove it. You briefly stop your barrage of strikes…

“AH-AH-AH-AH-AH- Huh?”

…Before delivering a fatal, two-handed blow to both cheeks simultaneously.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUU, AAAAAAAAA, ahhhhhhhh…” She convulses pitifully in your lap, completely powerless against the punishment she’s receiving. She makes some tiny motions as if trying to grind her crotch against your legs, but they’re indistinguishable from the aftershocks wracking her adorable body. “I’m not cumming… I’m not cumming… Don’t get mad at me…” she insists, even as her body spasms atop your legs and she keeps dribbling out shameful amounts of femcum. Sheesh, she’s seriously trying to deny this? How unsightly. She should at least own up to her own slutty flaws.

“You’re clearly lying to me, Recruit. What am I supposed to do with you?” you chide.

“More~! Punish me more~!” she pleads, shaking her ass to make a target out of it. Isn’t this Vermilion City’s Gym Leader? Where did this girl’s pride go? Well, whatever, not your problem. You swing your arm back and bring it down on her tight ass with all your might, not sparing the little masochist of a single ounce of ****. This time, one long, droning moan shakes its way out of Surge’s mouth as you can practically hear her consciousness leaving her body. Whoops. Looks like the pipsqueak bit off more than she could chew.

You stand up, letting Surge fall limply to the ground with a silly grin still plastered on her face. After throwing your bra and top back on, you walk out of the gym, victorious over the tiny tyrant of Vermilion City.