Breaking Article 134 Ch. 01

I frowned. "I don't need to go to sick call, sir."

"It's not a request, private. It's an order."

"But, sir, I'm fine. Really."

"Private, don't argue with me."

"I don't need to go to sick call, sir."

He rounded on me. "Private Wright, I gave you an order to report to sick call, then report to my office." His chest loomed in my face.

"Yessir," I grumbled, trying to tear my eyes from the steady rise and fall of his sculpted pectorals and his erect nipples.

As I'd suspected, the TMC was a waste of time. After about an hour of thumb twiddling and major fantasies, the doctor looked at me like I was fresh, or rather, ripe out of the field and smelling like a weeks worth of soldiering and unwashed body. I kept my eyes locked on the wall so he wouldn't see me glaring at him. He instructed me to keep the scraped knee clean, to replace my running shoes, and to return to duty. Returning to duty meant reporting to the major. No time like the present to get that over with.

Why did it feel like I was heading to a judge to be sentenced?

He was sitting in his office when I knocked, he wasn't alone. The command sergeant major was with him. "Enter."

"Private Wright reporting as ordered, sir." I was rather proud of the snappy salute and brusquely professional tone of voice. The major was wearing his BDU's again, but my brain was full of images of him mostly naked. I itched to see what he looked like under those shorts.

"Well?" The major demanded.

"I have a scraped knee, sir. I have been instructed to return to duty."

"That's it?"

"I'm to buy new running shoes as well, but yes that's it, sir." Did the bronze color of his skin extend past the waistband of his shorts or were his buttocks white? Was he circumcised? That was it, I had to get out of there.

"Very well, private. Return to duty. Dismissed."

I would have run out of there if I could have. I couldn't decide what scared me more, the command sergeant major or the major. Definitely the sergeant major who had goofing-off-radar. The major, I could ignore for the four more hours left until we were dismissed.

It wasn't as easy as I'd thought. Every time I turned around, it seemed, the major was there. I ducked into the women's latrine so many times that he probably thought I had urinary problems. Even though it was obvious that I was avoiding him, I managed to do it until final formation. After that, I made tracks for the barracks. No major until Monday. Thank God.

Friday was dancing at the clubs with my friends and Saturday was a dinner and a movie date with Specialist Bradford over at 70th Engineers. I thought about the sheen of sweat covering the skin of a broad, muscular chest and decided that Saturday would be Bradford's lucky night. That meant a trip to the mall. I conned my roommate, Jones, into going with me, which wasn't hard, she needed new shoes. Of course, Jones always needs new shoes.

"We aren't going in that truck. It's too loud. We'll take my car."

"Your POS won't even make it to the mall."

"It's not a POS and you promised to fix it."

"Fine, we'll go in your car. Jeez, Jones." I needled her all the way down to the parking lot. "Why don't you buy a new car? Dump the shoe habit and pick up something that costs less in payments than in parts?"

"If I had the cash, I'd buy that car. Porsches make me wet, particularly red ones like that one. I think I've sprung a leak," she said in an appreciative moan. I laughed at her.

"To the mall, Jeeves!"

I loved the mall. The crowds, the stores, and especially the food court. Jones and I went our separate ways after she plopped herself down in a chair at the first shoe store with a sale sign in the window.

I stopped off at Victoria's Secret and poked around for something sexy. Eventually I settled on a white bra and panty set, but instead of white cotton they were white satin and lace. Smirking to myself rather wickedly, I picked up a pair of thigh highs and decided to go shopping for a plaid skirt. See if Bradford was sophisticated enough to appreciate a little catholic schoolgirl fantasy. I paused at the leather store, staring at my dream coat while trying to decide where I'd have the most luck with the skirt.

"Nice coat," he said from immediately behind me. I leaped forward, twisting around, and bounced off the glass of the window. I crashed face first into him and dropped my Vicky's bag. His arms automatically came around me, to hold me steady. I jerked away from him, glaring up at his smug expression. He bent over and retrieved my bag.

"Hello, sir," I grumbled. Where in the hell had he come from? He rooted through the mauve striped sack and pulled the panties out. I reached out to jerk them from him. "Those are mine, sir!"

"I like these better, private." He had the gall to sound amused. "Do you always buy panties or is it just the week for it?"

"Was there something you wanted, sir?" I yanked the bag from his hand, but couldn't get him to let go of my panties. They were wrapped around his long, brown fingers. The roughness of his skin emphasized the femininity of that delicate scrap of lace and satin. "May I have my panties, sir?"

"Oh, sorry private." He looked at the panties, then his eyes went to my hips, a very blatant indication as to where his thoughts lay. He surrendered the panties, then tucked his hands casually into his pockets. His eyes moved to the coat behind me. "White lace panties and a black leather coat."

"What sir?"

"Nothing, private. Any special plans this weekend?"

"I'm going to a movie with a friend, sir."

"Male?"

"Of course, sir."

He grunted, his face expressionless, and flicked his eyes at the bag clenched in my hand. They lingered there a moment before returning to my face. A chill crawled down my spine. "Very well, private, enjoy." His voice was harsh, as harsh as whatever was in his eyes. He dropped his gaze to my chest, then back to the little sack. I half expected him to grab it again, but he went into the leather store instead.

I looked at my sack of white underwear then to the thigh length leather coat. White panties and black leather. I had the sudden, overwhelming image of me wearing my new white panties and thigh highs and that black leather coat. My nipples hardened at the addition of the major, on his knees pressing his head between my legs and nipping at my panties.

The coat was one hundred forty-five, and I had a little over two hundred fifty in my checking account. I had intended to buy a set of hedders the next payday, not a leather coat. Edelbrock, I told myself. I wasn't listening. Instead I was thinking about me in panties and that black leather coat, the major gently sliding his hands under the lapels then pressing them open so he could get to my naked breasts. Flowmaster, Rochester, Holley, hell even a Carter.

In my fantasy the major's lips closed around my nipple and I gasped out loud. I could hear it over the mall traffic behind me. The sudden flow of heat from a single imagined contact was more sexual interest than I'd managed to come up with over the decision to fuck Bradford's brains out. I could see the major deeper in the bowels of the leather store, browsing through something. In my mind, his lips left my nipple and trailed kisses down my ribs, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail across my navel. Shutting my eyes, I gritted my teeth, fighting back the twin urges to continue the fantasy and slide my hand inside my jeans.

The real major was holding up a brown leather bomber jacket near the back of the store. In my fantasy his hands wandered down my rib cage to squeeze my bare rump. I shook myself of it, the real major would never do those things to me. Not only wasn't I an officer, I wasn't even in his league. There was no doubt some long, cool, blonde drink of water off somewhere waiting to see him slip that brown bomber jacket over his naked chest. My eyes lifted up to the coat in the window. No, the major wasn't for me, but I could have my fantasy.

I ran into the major at the cashier's desk. Literally. I turned around with my new black leather coat and my abused Victoria's Secret sack and mowed him down, or would have had I been bigger and he smaller. He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me. Internally, I cringed.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"It's okay, private. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I have to get some more shopping done before my date," I blurted. Oh good going Wright, like he gives a fuck about your stupid love life. He frowned.

"Date," he said flatly. He glanced at the Victoria's Secret sack. "I thought he was just your friend."

"He is just my friend."

"You bought new underwear for a friend?" He sounded either angry or appalled.

I blushed Dodge Viper Red. "You never know, sir." I tried to cover the Victoria's Secret sack with the leather coat. "Is there anything else, sir? I have to go."

"No, that's all, private."

"Thank you, sir." I bolted from the store, almost running on my way to the clothing outlet store on the other side of the mall. I lost myself among the racks, ostensibly looking for the skirt, but in reality ducking down to hide in case the major somehow followed me.

Eventually I had to purchase the plaid, pleated skirt and leave or I would be late for my date with Bradford. I felt like an idiot, or at least a bad rendition of one of Charlie's Angels, but I moved down the massive corridors of the mall using every bit of cover I could find anyway. I thought I saw the major a few times, but couldn't prove it. I breathed a sigh of relief when I made it to Jones' car. How ridiculous, the major following me, yeah right. Get a clue, Wright.

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