It's a man's life in the Queen's Own Royal Regiment! When naughty new recruit Private John Thomas is caught masturbating in the toilets, a few weeks of potato-peeling looks imminent. But the sadistic Sergeant Willing offers the miscreant a chance to avoid that fate by submitting to Special Procedures...in front of the entire platoon! More
It's a man's life in the Queen's Own Royal Regiment! When naughty new recruit Private John Thomas is caught masturbating in the toilets, a few weeks of potato-peeling looks imminent. But the sadistic Sergeant Willing offers the miscreant a chance to avoid that fate by submitting to Special Procedures. The sergeant introduces him to his favourite cane, and the entire platoon must watch as discipline is administered!
Warning: This 7,200 word monster contains spanking, punishment, S&M themes, public sex, anal sex, mass masturbation, extremely horny soldiers, and uniforms all round.
The latrines weren’t exactly five-star accommodation, but they were adequate for the purposes of the modern soldier. Private Thomas leaned his wide frame up against the door of the cubicle that he’d chosen, and carefully unzipped his uncomfortable issue trousers.
He wasn’t pudgy with his width; far from it. People had mistaken him for a soldier even while he was still slouching around civvy street; a few hours a week in the local Fitness First gym had seen to that. He wrapped his right hand carefully round the slumbering beast, and extracted it from his equally uncomfortable issue underpants, sighing happily. Let those silly sods worry about pleasing the sergeant. He’d worry about pleasing himself. And the nubile young thing that he’d been daydreaming about, of course.
In no time, his seven inches stood to attention, no need for a sergeant to command it. He rubbed away at that special little spot under his head, carefully anchoring the soles of his army boots against a slightly uneven tile so as not to slip while taking his pleasure. Away he pumped, lost in hedonistic self-gratification, while ever-more-outrageous images slipped across his mind.
Of course, he entirely failed to hear the gentle clattering of boots that heralded the entrance of his section Corporal, Frank Jenkins. Jenkins was infamous throughout the Regiment for his personal armament. Even in full uniform, his magnificent weapon was usually outlined in loving detail by his own green fatigues. If that wasn’t enough, Corporal Jenkins was utterly without shame, and was quite happy to display his member on request to anyone who doubted the initial evidence. However, at the moment, he most certainly wasn’t thinking with his groin.
It didn’t take much mental effort to process and interpret the highly suspicious clattering noises made by the cubicle door as Private Thomas bounced on his toes, pumping away at his pecker for all he was worth.