Chapter 3: Rising Action
The trainees were on the second night of “The Anvil” which is a 3 day, 3 night FTX during week 6 of the 10 week Basic Training schedule.
Addie was exhausted mentally and physically but it was her turn at night for fire guard, a task usually only an hour long and then the next person beside you takes the next shift. Addie volunteered for 3 shifts and it was deep into the second hour now, and everyone was asleep, except for Drill Sergeant West of course. He was watching them from the shadows , a predatory glint in his eyes. She knew it wasn’t right to do this and even more so because she was a soldier, but after days of sleepless nights and his continuous harassment, she found herself cornered.
"Hey, Drill Sergeant," she said in a low voice, barely a whisper. He emerged from the shadows with a knowing smile on his face.
"What's on your mind, Recruit?” West said, closing the distance between them. His breath smelled like tobacco and cheap whiskey.
"I need some sleep," she said.
"And I think you do too, Drill Sergeant." Her words hung heavy in the air, pregnant with tension.
He raised his hand, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. "I knew you were a smart one, Specialist Pearson," he murmured. The slightest hint of the Alabama drawl he probably used when off-duty slipped through. "Let's get some rest then. Just us."
Before she could respond, he stepped closer, their faces just inches apart.
Addie's breath caught in her throat, and she wondered for a brief moment if she had made a terrible mistake.
But it was too late to turn back now.
The Drill Sergeant leaned down, and his lips met hers, slowly and deliberately. His stubble scratched at her skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The kiss deepened, and Addie felt his tongue push past her lips, exploring her mouth with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Their bodies pressed together, each movement deliberate and intentional.
The Drill Sergeant's hands roamed freely over her body, his touch leaving a trail of fire where he touched. Addie permetted him, merely existing in their twisted dance.
The Drill Sergeant broke away from the kiss, leaving Addie panting and weak, but still fighting against her own body's demands.
“Fuck,” he whispered against her neck, drawing a knee between her legs and grinding against her. “You taste like champagne and sin, Pearson. Goddamn.”
Addie gasped as another wave of pleasure coursed through her.
Desire and disgust warred within her, but her survival instinct, the same one that had driven her to join the army, urged her to comply.
Drill Sergeant West's hands continued their slow journey across her body, one disappearing beneath her shirt and seeking out the sensitive peaks of her breasts. She clenched her eyes shut against his touch, feeling herself drowning in his insistent grip. Her voice - a meager whisper of breath - called out to him.
"Please, Drill Sergeant...
", but she didn't know what she was pleading for. With the onslaught of sensations flooding her body or for him to stop was unclear. Her mind had become muddled in confusion and her body a slave to primal desire.
The other trainees were asleep, their snores mingling with the distant sounds of crickets and coyotes. Addie bit back a sob as he reached down, pressing his rough, calloused hand against her thigh, and then between her legs.
She managed a moan as he continued to explore her with a feather-light touch that sent shivers down her spine. She felt the wetness pooling between her legs, a response she could not control no matter how much she wanted to.
"You're soaked," he whispered, his voice edged with approval as he slipped two fingers inside her. She gasped, her hips involuntarily moving against his hand as he fingered her roughly. He curled his fingers just right, hitting a spot that made her entire body tremble with pleasure.
She closed her eyes, biting back a moan as he mercilessly continued his assault.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he growled. "Your cunt's made for fucking."
She flinched at the crude language, a reaction that he must have noticed. He smirked and leaned in conspiratorially.
"You want me to stop talking like that?"
She nodded, unable to find her voice amidst the onslaught of sensations.
"Okay," he whispered, "but you need to know all the dirty things I want to do to you, and I want you to hear it when you come all over my fingers."
He continued to finger her relentlessly, his thumb rubbing slow circles over her clit. Her breath hitched as the pleasure escalated to unbearable heights. There was a desperate need within her burning for release, but she couldn't find the courage to let go completely.