Title: Prolog: Final Day [Project Zeta]
Title: Prolog: Final Day
Word Count: 964
Rating: NC-17
Warning: D/s
Characters/Pairings: Master Sergeant, the recruits
Series: Project Zeta
Summary: The last day of Project Zeta and the Master Sergeant reviews his men.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for a friend a bit ago but thought some others might like it. I’ve never written anything like it before but I’ve been reading a book on military BDSM and it gave me ideas.
Final Day
He snapped the belt, it’s hard leather sending a echo through the hanger as the Master Sergeant walked about his three ‘graduates’ the Master Sergeant let himself smile as he saw that none of them moved or reacted at the sound, good.
He finished his round ending in front of the men, “We’ll it seems I was given some real men after all this time,” he boomed, his voice filling the large space as he inspected his men for the last time.
The three were dressed identically in green fatigues pants, the only reminder that they were soldiers. They had been the bottom of the barrel, all but washouts before he got his hands on them. On their chests they wore leather harnesses which displayed their developed upper bodies, bodies he had forced them to develop with hours of time in the weight room. He had forced them to workout, to push themselves and if they weren’t pushing then his belt, cane, and whip were always at the ready to force that last few exercises from them. On their feet they had black combat boots that shone in the light so well he could see himself in them if he wanted. He had made sure of that as he showed them how to clean his boots and theirs, all three had had black tongues on more then one day, any day that their boots weren’t clean enough they finished the job with their tongues. And around their necks all three had dark black leather collars tight around their neck muscles, moving as they breathed. Reminders that they didn’t belong to themselves, something that boot camp and the rest of military life had been unable to teach them, until they came to Project Zeta, to him, he had drive that point home. And that was the point of the last thing they all had in common, on there chest over their hearts was the circle and Z brand of the Project.
All three where standing at attention, eyes straight forward, ready for any order he might give. “I’ve taken three wastes of space, two drug users and a deserter. None of them followed orders or had any discipline and now…”
“What are you men?” He boomed as he stood in front of the first man in the row, his now cropped blond hair had been down in his shoulders and he had to be whipped and left tied to a post in the center of the hanger for three days in a row before he’s realized that he wasn’t getting out his this hanger with out pleasing the Master Sergeant. After that the man was one of the best, pushed himself hard.
“U.S Army Sergeant,” came the response from the three men every bit as loud as the Master Sergeant’s.
“And who do you follow?” the Master Sergeant demanded as he moved over to the middle soldier. His dark body was almost the size of any football player now but when he first arrived they had been more flab then muscle but after months of finding out just how hard he could push when the man standing over him held a belt and was more then willing to use it that had changed.
“Our Commanding Officer Sergeant,”
“And what will you do,” the Master Sergeant asked as he moved to look into the gray eyes of the last men in the row. He had been the least resistance but he had tried to just skate by doing just enough to get by just like he always had but not any more. His tongue had been black the most as he had been forced to do everything over and over until it was perfected, the best he could do, not just enough to get by.
“His orders to our best Sergeant,” came the last yell as the Master Sergeant stepped back and started walked around them again.
“Kneel,” the Master Sergeant barked watching as they all dropped to their knees, but kept their back straight and head forward, then starting with the blond he removed the pins locking their collars on, and then the collars themselves one by one. He paused for a second when the last, the one with gray eyes, moved a fraction away from his hand as he moved to take and collar. Taking them was always the hardest part but it had to be done, “Stand at rest.” He ordered.
He placed the collars on the table near by and picked up the three brown packages he had placed there. “Men, you started as some of the lowest garbage this Army has ever seen. But now it’s time you showed the Army what you’re really made of. Out side is a transport that will take you to your next post, I expect you to show them that I didn’t just waste the last three months understand.”
“Sergeant, Yes, Sergeant.”
“Good, you will take a package then change into your new uniform and report to the transport within ten minutes. Understood men?”
“Sergeant, Yes, Sergeant,” the men said.
“Fall out,” He ordered them for the last time watched as they look their packages and headed for the door. He watched as the gray eye’s one ran a hand over one of the collars as he collected his package and turned to look back before walking out the door the last time, the man paused one last time and saluted waiting for the Master Sergeant to return the salute before he walked out.
The Master Sergeant waited for a few moments, watching the door, before he walked into his office to read about the new ‘recruits’ he would be receiving the next day, six of them, maybe he should get an assistant after all.
Word Count: 964
Rating: NC-17
Warning: D/s
Characters/Pairings: Master Sergeant, the recruits
Series: Project Zeta
Summary: The last day of Project Zeta and the Master Sergeant reviews his men.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for a friend a bit ago but thought some others might like it. I’ve never written anything like it before but I’ve been reading a book on military BDSM and it gave me ideas.
Final Day
He snapped the belt, it’s hard leather sending a echo through the hanger as the Master Sergeant walked about his three ‘graduates’ the Master Sergeant let himself smile as he saw that none of them moved or reacted at the sound, good.
He finished his round ending in front of the men, “We’ll it seems I was given some real men after all this time,” he boomed, his voice filling the large space as he inspected his men for the last time.
The three were dressed identically in green fatigues pants, the only reminder that they were soldiers. They had been the bottom of the barrel, all but washouts before he got his hands on them. On their chests they wore leather harnesses which displayed their developed upper bodies, bodies he had forced them to develop with hours of time in the weight room. He had forced them to workout, to push themselves and if they weren’t pushing then his belt, cane, and whip were always at the ready to force that last few exercises from them. On their feet they had black combat boots that shone in the light so well he could see himself in them if he wanted. He had made sure of that as he showed them how to clean his boots and theirs, all three had had black tongues on more then one day, any day that their boots weren’t clean enough they finished the job with their tongues. And around their necks all three had dark black leather collars tight around their neck muscles, moving as they breathed. Reminders that they didn’t belong to themselves, something that boot camp and the rest of military life had been unable to teach them, until they came to Project Zeta, to him, he had drive that point home. And that was the point of the last thing they all had in common, on there chest over their hearts was the circle and Z brand of the Project.
All three where standing at attention, eyes straight forward, ready for any order he might give. “I’ve taken three wastes of space, two drug users and a deserter. None of them followed orders or had any discipline and now…”
“What are you men?” He boomed as he stood in front of the first man in the row, his now cropped blond hair had been down in his shoulders and he had to be whipped and left tied to a post in the center of the hanger for three days in a row before he’s realized that he wasn’t getting out his this hanger with out pleasing the Master Sergeant. After that the man was one of the best, pushed himself hard.
“U.S Army Sergeant,” came the response from the three men every bit as loud as the Master Sergeant’s.
“And who do you follow?” the Master Sergeant demanded as he moved over to the middle soldier. His dark body was almost the size of any football player now but when he first arrived they had been more flab then muscle but after months of finding out just how hard he could push when the man standing over him held a belt and was more then willing to use it that had changed.
“Our Commanding Officer Sergeant,”
“And what will you do,” the Master Sergeant asked as he moved to look into the gray eyes of the last men in the row. He had been the least resistance but he had tried to just skate by doing just enough to get by just like he always had but not any more. His tongue had been black the most as he had been forced to do everything over and over until it was perfected, the best he could do, not just enough to get by.
“His orders to our best Sergeant,” came the last yell as the Master Sergeant stepped back and started walked around them again.
“Kneel,” the Master Sergeant barked watching as they all dropped to their knees, but kept their back straight and head forward, then starting with the blond he removed the pins locking their collars on, and then the collars themselves one by one. He paused for a second when the last, the one with gray eyes, moved a fraction away from his hand as he moved to take and collar. Taking them was always the hardest part but it had to be done, “Stand at rest.” He ordered.
He placed the collars on the table near by and picked up the three brown packages he had placed there. “Men, you started as some of the lowest garbage this Army has ever seen. But now it’s time you showed the Army what you’re really made of. Out side is a transport that will take you to your next post, I expect you to show them that I didn’t just waste the last three months understand.”
“Sergeant, Yes, Sergeant.”
“Good, you will take a package then change into your new uniform and report to the transport within ten minutes. Understood men?”
“Sergeant, Yes, Sergeant,” the men said.
“Fall out,” He ordered them for the last time watched as they look their packages and headed for the door. He watched as the gray eye’s one ran a hand over one of the collars as he collected his package and turned to look back before walking out the door the last time, the man paused one last time and saluted waiting for the Master Sergeant to return the salute before he walked out.
The Master Sergeant waited for a few moments, watching the door, before he walked into his office to read about the new ‘recruits’ he would be receiving the next day, six of them, maybe he should get an assistant after all.