• BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 02 (1/2)

    From a425couple@21:1/5 to All on Fri Mar 31 14:51:01 2023
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    BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 02
    STORY INFO
    TV Wrens learn to dress sexy and attract the young sailors.
    5.6k words
    4.4722.6k153
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    MicheleNylons
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    Chapter Two – Wren Division Ho!

    The four Leading Recruits were hungover and hungry and in the grey dawn
    and cold bleak light of day they weren't sure that their prank was
    really worth it. They entered the cabin and found the four 'Wrens' stood
    at attention and immediately began to break down in laughter.

    "Of my fucking god you guys look stupid!" Jean Burgess burst out laughing.

    Leading Recruit Spike Jones however was not so amused. His brain began
    to tick over.

    "Stow that bilge Leading Recruit Burgess!" he snapped and the three
    other Leading Recruits stopped their guffawing.

    "Report!" Spike ordered.

    "Recruit Nyland reporting Collins Division for inspection," Mike Nyland snapped.

    "Wrong, try again fuckhead," Spike snapped his cane against his thigh.

    Michael Nyland was confused for a second and he realised what was expected.

    "Recruit Wren Nyland reporting Collins Wrens Division for inspection,"
    he corrected himself.

    Jason Jones strutted along the formation of the four recruits dressed as
    Wrens, looking them up and down.

    "A piss poor effort Nyland," he snapped.

    "They look like they've been dragged through a hedge backwards!"

    "You don't look too bad but the rest of this bunch look pathetic. Lift
    your skirts!"

    "What?" Doc Holliday exclaimed.

    "Silence on parade! Lift your skirts!" Spike Jones bellowed.

    The three bemused recruits looked at Mike Nyland who nodded at them and
    lifted the hem of his skirt exposing his thighs clad in the dark nylon
    tights. The others followed suit.

    "Higher!" Spike demanded.

    They all lifted the navy blue skirts up, exposing their hairy legs
    encased in black nylon and their white cotton full-cut panties enclosed
    in the darker gusset of their tights.

    "Pathetic!" Spike Jones yelled.

    Jimmy Lovejoy, Jean Burgess and Billy Marron were pissing themselves
    laughing at the four recruits dressed in the Wrens number two uniform.
    They looked pathetic. But actually they were surprised at what a good
    job they had done to emulate recruit Wrens. None of them would admit it
    but they didn't look half-bad in a weird sort of way.

    "I'll give you this Nyland; you made an effort but not up to my
    expectations," Spike strode up and down the line of 'Wrens".

    "Drop your skirts and stand to attention!" he snapped.

    "Recruit Cook Holliday, David Holliday, you are now Wren Cook Doris
    Holliday. You pathetic porker. Go to the galley right now and start
    breakfast."

    "What dressed like this?" Doc was bemused.

    Spike's cane flicked up and caught Doc on the thigh; the pain
    excruciating in the cold.

    "Yes Leader," recruit Holliday responded and doubled away to the galley
    to make breakfast, glad to be gone regardless how she was dressed.

    "Recruit Wrens Perkins and Maine, you want to be Stewards so you can
    commence your cleaning duties. Start at our block and make our racks and
    clean the cabins, heads and showers. When you have finished take your
    breakfast and report to Leading Recruit Burgess who will have a work
    list for you. Do you understand!"

    Both recruits nodded in unison, fell out and doubled away, even though
    they were dressed as Wrens it was good to be no where near these bullies
    when their blood was up.

    "Recruit Wren Nyland. I gave you a task and you only partially completed
    it."

    "But Spike..."

    The cane whipped out and caught Michael Nyland across the cheek. The
    blow was glancing, just enough to cause immediate pain but not hard
    enough to leave a lasting blemish. The Leading recruits knew how to
    discipline their charges without leaving any evidence. Any marks that
    they made would deliberately be on a part of the recruit's bodies
    covered by clothing.

    "Don't you ever refer to me that way again! I'm Leader or Leading
    Recruit Jones to you!" Spike's face was crimson with anger.

    "I gave you a task and you haven't completed it to my satisfaction!" he growled.

    "I wanted four Wrens on parade this morning and except for you, who I
    may add, barely passes muster, I have a bunch of clowns in bad makeup, shithouse wool hair, and poorly fitting uniforms."

    "I did the best I could with the resources I had leader," Mike responded.

    "Hey come on Spike I reckon he did pretty good," Jimmy Lovejoy piped in.

    "We just wanted then dressed as Wrens so we could take the piss."

    Spike turned to his three comrades.

    "How do you expect these slackers to make the grade if we don't insist
    on perfection!" He screamed.

    "You and I are the Leaders, they are the followers. They need to follow
    our orders and instructions to the letter!"

    Jimmy, Jean, and Billy looked at their compatriot a little bemused. This
    was supposed to be a jolly, a prank. There was no way they could justify
    their treatment of the four grommets even under the harsh rules and
    regulations that applied under HMS Chelmsford Standing Orders. But...
    they were not going to argue. With PO Knocker White comatose in the DI
    cabin, Leading Recruit Jason Jones was running the rock show at HMS
    Chelmsford.

    "Bend over Wren Nyland," Spike said authoritatively.

    Mike Nyland had been beaten before with the 'rod'; the cane that some
    ratings and Senior Sailors kept hidden from sight but used judiciously
    when they thought it was necessary

    He complied and bent over, offering his behind to his superior.

    "Lift your skirt."

    Mike Nyland rucked up his navy blue skirt exposing his trim thighs and
    tight buttocks encased in black nylon tights; the white panties visible
    under the gusset of the tights. All four of the Leading Recruits would
    be lying if they said they didn't find the sight somewhat arousing.

    Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

    The pain was excruciating and tears leaked from his eyes and ran down
    his cheeks in runnels tinged with mascara but other than grunting when
    struck he refused to cry out.

    "Wren Nyland Ho!" Spike commanded, snapping the cane to his side.

    Mike stood erect and pulled down his skirt, smoothing it out he stood to attention.

    "You want to be a Writer? A scribe?" Spike stepped in close to Mike,
    almost nose to nose.

    "Yes Leader," Mike responded passively.

    "Good. Then square yourself away Wren Nyland, get some breakfast and
    report to me in the Regulating Office at 0830. You're going to be my
    Wren Writer, the Regulating Officer's Secretary."

    "You are from now on, Wren Michele Nyland; understood?"

    Mike nodded and the cane flicked out catching her on the thigh again.

    "Yes Leader!" she responded.

    "Good, now double away and I'll see you at 0830," Spike sneered.

    Michele Nyland doubled away as best she could in court shoes and skirt.

    "Fuck that was funny Spike," Billy Marron laughed and the others joined in.

    "Oh yeah, well I've only just started with my these grommets. I'm going
    to make real Wrens out them," he snarled.

    Jean Burgess interjected.

    "Aren't we going too far Spike? I mean really?"

    "Fuck no! I've only just begun. You know what I think? I think we can we
    can make these grommets into real Wrens for the next six weeks," he mused.

    "Really?" Billy Marron asked bemused.

    "Fuck yeah!" Spike replied.

    "Now lets see what Wren Holliday has cooked us for breakfast shall we?"
    he chortled and led his conspirators out of the Wrens block and over to
    the recruit school main cafe.

    "Jimmy, you take PO White his breakfast, we don't want him coming to the
    café and finding out about what we are up to."

    After breakfast Wren Cook Doris Holliday stayed in the galley and cafe, cleaning the mess traps. Wren Stewards Polly Perkins and Mary Maine
    reported to Jean Burgess who gave them a work list that would take them
    through to lunch. Wren Michele Nyland presented herself to Spike Jones
    at the Regulating Office.

    "Sit!" Spike pointed to a seat in front of his desk.

    Michele slid her hands under her skirt to smooth it under her as she sat
    down and then she crossed her legs at her ankles. These gestures were
    not lost on Spike; they were feminine gestures that she did without
    thinking they would come naturally to a woman but not to a man. It
    seemed to Spike that Michele knew far too much about femininity than she
    could have just picked up when he ordered the grommets to dress as Wrens.

    "Ok Wren Nyland, You actually didn't do too bad and I accept your excuse
    that you had limited resources but this is the task I'm setting you."

    "I want my four Wrens fully femmed. Fuck off those stupid wool wigs and
    get something decent; I'll give you the master key to the base
    hairdressers and the canteen. Also get rid of those fucking horrible
    tights and cotton knickers; I want my Wrens in nice sexy panties and
    stockings. Work on their makeup; you look half-decent, they look like
    shit. And get rid of those hairy legs; I want my Wrens legs shaven and stocking-clad get it?"

    "But Leader; I thought we were only going to be dressed as Wrens for one
    day?" Michele responded.

    "I've changed my mind! You can make a start this morning on your own,
    find what you need to feminise my Wren Division and after lunch you get
    the other three Wrens to work on. When you fall in for rounds tonight I
    want to see four Wrens who look like real Wrens understand?"

    "But..." Michele stammered.

    "Fuck but! Here's the master keys; find everything you need and I want
    to see four sexy, feminine Wrens by 1800," he snapped and threw the keys
    at her.

    "Sexy? What do you mean?" Michele asked naively but she knew what he
    meant and she was not happy where this was going.

    "Just as I described, now turn too Wren Nyland," he said dismissively.

    Michele wandered through the deserted depot until she came to the base
    canteen, she unlocked the door and roamed the aisles finding what she
    was looking for and tossing the items into a basket. There were a couple
    of aisles that catered to the Wrens and here she found stockings,
    lady-shavers and more makeup. She had no idea how or if payment was
    going to made, nor did she give a fuck. She bagged her selections and
    proceeded next door to the base hairdresser, a separate facility to the
    base barber.

    Most of the Wrens wore their hair in short bobs for convenience so the hairdresser had wigs for sale, a small selection as only the CPO, PO, LS
    and Senior Wrens could wear them ashore with civvies but there were
    enough to meet Michele's needs. She selected a black bob, a blonde shoulder-length, and two brunette shoulder-length wigs. She helped
    herself to hairbrushes and hair care products.

    She looked in the mirror and ripped off the stupid wool wig she was
    wearing and replaced it with the black bob. She adjusted it so it fit
    nicely and then brushed it out. She was very pleased with her
    appearance; she could quite easily pass for a Wren now at a short distance.

    Michele looked at herself in the mirror and memories returned and she daydreamed for a little while; reminiscing about herself crossdressed as
    she used to quite regularly before she joined the 'Andrew'. She shook
    herself out of her reverie, picked up her goody bag, and began the slow
    slog back to recruit school; the cold grey morning and snow flurries
    reflected her mood.

    She dropped the bag full of goodies back in her cabin and then made her
    way across to the Wren's block. The gate had been opened so obviously PO
    White had opened up the 'restricted areas so that Collins Division could
    carry out their caretaking duties. She opened the block and went from
    cabin to cabin, taking what she needed. Recruit Wrens, like their male counterparts were not allowed to keep anything but their pussers issued
    kit in their kit lockers but they had one big deep drawer under their
    bunk where they were allowed to keep personal possessions.

    This was where Michele found what she was looking for; perfume, sexy
    knickers, suspender belts and in one case a pair of black patent leather high-heels which she slipped into and found fitted her perfectly. In the
    same drawer she found a nice satin and lace bustier step-in. She also
    found various items of jewellery. She kept notes from where she took
    which items from so they could be returned. No one in the RN tolerated
    thieves.

    Michele dropped the step-ins and high heels into her personal drawer.
    She wasn't sure why she had even taken them but she just wanted them.
    She sorted out the rest of her loot, dividing it up into four piles on
    the recruit's racks. She checked her watch and saw it was time for
    scran. She made her way over to the cafe and found Doris tending the
    scran line and Polly acting as Steward for the four Leading Recruits.
    They slapped her arse and generally took the piss out of her. Billy
    Marron even slipped a hand under her skirt.

    "Fuck me Wren Perkins; you seem to have a package in your panties," he
    guffawed and the other three laughed.

    Michele sat down at same table as Mary Maine, as far away from the
    Leading Recruits as possible. Polly and Doris joined them with their
    lunches now that they had finished waiting on the Leading Recruits.

    "Fucking pigs! Did you see him put his hand up me skirt?" Polly whined.

    "You sound like a real Wren, Recruit Wren Perkins," Mary jibed.

    "This fucking rig is so uncomfortable. These tights keep bagging around
    my crotch and I can hardly walk in these court shoes. This makeup has
    got into my eyes and it stings," Doris whined.

    Michele had to suppress a laugh; Doris had 'panda eyes' her mascara had
    run and clown's lips, her lipstick had smudged and her wool wig was askew.

    "Where did you get the hair by the way? Why do you look not half bad
    Wren Nyland?" Mary Maine eyed her compatriot suspiciously.

    "I've got no good news for you girls. Spike had me scran everything
    needed to make us look like proper Wrens and I have all afternoon to do
    it," Michele said around mouthfuls of tiddy oggie and mashed potato.

    "What do you mean 'proper Wrens'" Doris asked but was cut off.

    There was a sudden bellow form the Leading Recruit's table.

    "Do you hear there; on completion of lunch Wrens Holliday, Nyland,
    Perkins and Maine are to make and mend clothing," Leading Recruit
    Lovejoy announced.

    "Shit hot; a fucking makers!" Polly beamed.

    The pipe 'hands to make and mend clothing' was an old RN term for
    sailors to take time away from their duties to attend to their kit. In
    modern parlance it equated to an afternoon off and was referred to a
    'makers'.

    "You fucking dickhead. This is exactly what I was telling you about.
    Spike Jones expects me turn you into 'real Wrens'; wigs, makeup,
    stockings, panties and all," Michele explained.

    "Come on Wren Nyland, take charge and get your rabble of Wrens over to
    block and sort them out as per my instructions," Spike Jones barked.

    "Aye, aye Leader," Michele knew this was no time to piss off the cohort
    of leading recruits.

    "Have Wren Holiday prepare scran, leave it on the line and then report
    to you in the block. If your Division passes inspection during rounds at
    1800 you girls get a scran. If not its tough titty said the kitty," he
    snapped.

    "Come on boys, lets 'up spirits'', Spike said to his three oppos,
    dangling the key to the wets in their faces.

    Michele marched Doris, Polly and Mary over to the blocks and when they
    entered the block Michele gave her three oppos the bad news.

    "I have to have us looking like four sexy Wrens by evening rounds," she
    said.

    "What do you mean 'sexy Wrens?'" Doris asked again.

    "You said 'proper Wrens' before; what's the difference?"

    "The difference as far as Spike is concerned is fuck all now stop asking questions and just do what I say. Take off those stupid wool wigs, get
    out of those uniforms and get down to the heads and showers," I'm going
    to turn you scranbags into Wrens! Shit-hot sexy Wrens!" Michele
    announced, she ripped off her wig and began to strip.

    Down at the showers she distributed lady shavers and shaving cream.

    "Shave those legs and while your about it shave your chests," Michele
    ordered and three others knew better than to argue.

    They had little body hair anyway and it was nice to spend time under a
    hot shower on a cold bleak afternoon. Michele got them to shave their
    faces and led them back to cabin, wrapped in towels and blankets.

    "Ok makeup for beginners," Michele had them standing two to a mirror.

    There was a large mirror between each of the two large wooden kit
    lockers on each side of the cabin facing the two bunks. The door to the
    cabin was between the kit lockers and there was one window each side
    between the bunks.

    Michele was patient, teaching her pupils the art of makeup. Foundation,
    powder, blush and lipstick was easy, eyeshadow and mascara was harder
    but not daunting, but they all had problems putting on eyeliner.

    This was the 70s and more was less when it came to makeup. After a few
    attempts the Wrens got better.

    "How the fuck do you know so much about this shit Mick err Michele?"
    Mary enquired.

    "I told you! My sisters forced me to play dressup!" Michele whined unconvincingly

    "Yeah, sure," Mary responded dubiously.

    The Wrens had agreed to call each other by their femme names all the
    time now lest they forget to do so in the presence of the Leading
    Recruits and be made to suffer the consequences.

    Once she had her charge's makeup looking decent she had them stand in
    front of their bunks on which she had laid out the items she had
    purloined that afternoon.

    "What you have here are panties, brassieres, suspender belts, stockings, blouses, shirts and shoes. I have also given each of you a wig that
    should best suit your features. I'm now going to show you how to dress yourselves. First step into the sussies and adjust them around your
    waist and then we'll adjust the garters."

    Michele instructed her girls how to dress, assisting here, adjusting
    there. She helped them put on and adjust their wigs and comb them out
    and showed them how to stuff the cups of their bras so they had 'tits'.
    Once she had finished she was proud of her work. Polly was blonde and
    Mary and Doris were brunette.

    "You girls look great. Now strip and take that makeup off and start
    again!" she ordered.

    "What!!" the Wrens complained in unison.

    They had been complimenting each other how good they looked.

    "This is just like any drill! We keep doing it till we get it perfect!
    We have all afternoon except for Doris who will be dismissed at 1700 to
    make dinner and I intend to use the time to get it right!" Michele
    explained.

    They practiced all afternoon, which included walking in the court shoes.
    By 1700 they weren't too bad.

    "You know; now that I've figured out how to wear this stuff properly,
    it's quite, err, quite, err," Polly stammered.

    "Quite sexy?" Mary finished Polly's sentence.

    "You two ain't getting all poofy on me are you?" Doris snapped.

    Of the four, Doris was the least convincing and her rotund figure did
    not bring out the best in the Wren's No 2 uniform.

    "You know what I mean Doris. There's nothing like feeling up a girl and
    sliding your hand up her stockings, smelling her perfume, caressing her
    through her clothes before you, well you know, shag her. Well this sort
    of feels that way, wearing girls knickers and that, you know?" Polly
    blushed.

    "Oh bollocks Polly Perkins, you've never shagged a girl in your life,"
    Mary pushed her on the shoulder playfully.

    Michele was studying her charges. They actually looked quite good. Too
    good to some extent because if Spike Jones was up to what Michele
    thought he was up too, the three Wrens were in for a shock. Michele had
    been is a similar situation about a year ago, where someone had taken a
    shine to her and... 'Well, that's a story for another time,' she thought.

    "Fuck it's time for me to hit the galley and make scran. It's a fucking
    pain in the arse cooking in this uniform; when are those fuckers going
    to let me get back into cook's white's?" Doris complained.

    "I think they'll have had enough of this lark by tonight. They will soon
    get bored with it and find something else to torment us with," Mary
    said, looking at her reflection in the mirror and adjusting her wig.

    end p1, on to p2

    BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 02
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    MicheleNylons
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    'I fucking hope so; but I don't think so,' Michele postulated.

    Meanwhile back at the wets the four leading recruits were pleasantly
    pissed. They'd been drinking beer but stayed off the spirits. They
    wanted their faculties sharp when they tormented the Wrens that evening.

    "I'm going to get one of the Wrens to be my beagle; she can wash and
    iron my kit and make my rack," Jean Burgess mused, lying on a couch
    blowing smoke at the ceiling.

    "She can dhoby all our clothes and make all our racks; she will be our
    cabin beagle!" Spike laughed.

    "I'm going to get one to be the bar steward; she can pour our drinks,
    empty ash trays and keep this mess clean," Billy Marron reflected.

    "And we've already got the fat one cooking scran so we're pretty well
    looked after," Jimmy Lovejoy said.

    "Yep they are going to be our Barrack Room Bettys," Jimmy grinned.

    "What about the Writer? What can we get her to do for us?" Jean queried.

    "Fuck all!" Spike snapped.

    "She's mine!" he growled.

    "Fuck; ok Spike! She's your reg office writer then; we all agree right
    lads?" Jimmy Lovejoy said, smoothing the troubled waters.

    They all nodded and Spike took a swig of his beer and finished it. He
    looked at his watch.

    "Right! Let's get some dinner and then we can see how our Wren Division
    is turned out," he chortled.

    The Wrens of Collins Division were fallen in, toeing the line, ready to
    be inspected. Michele went up and down the line, adjusting clothing,
    brushing hair, fixing little makeup mistakes. She walked to rear of the
    line and stopped behind each Wren and ensured their seams were straight.

    "That tickles," Wren Perkins giggled.

    "Feels kinda nice," Wren Maine laughed as Michele's hand slid down her
    thighs and calves.

    "Feels fucking uncomfortable!" Doris Holliday griped.

    They heard the crunch of footsteps and the clattering of doors being
    opened then more footsteps and all four Wrens shivered with dread. The
    cabin door burst open and their four nemesis' lead by Leading Recruit
    Spike Jones strode into the cabin

    "Recruit Wren Nyland reporting Collins Division Wrens for you
    inspection," she said in her best faux feminine voice.

    "Jesus Spike they look amazing!" James Lovejoy stood open-mouthed
    looking at the four feminine sexy Wrens.

    "I don't believe it!" Jean Burgess said at the same time.

    "They look gorgeous!" Billy Marron blurted out.

    Wrens Perkins and Maine couldn't help but smile at the compliments but
    Doris Holiday just scowled.

    'The other grommets might get some sick satisfaction out being forced to crossdress; but not Recruit Holiday' she thought. She couldn't wait
    until this was over and she could get back into number 8s and cook's whites.

    Michele also didn't smile; she was watching Spike Jones intently and
    what she saw disturbed her; the lizard-look in his eyes as he gazed at
    the four attractive Wrens. What had started out as a joke was fast
    becoming disturbingly dangerous. The four Leading Recruits, brimming
    with testosterone and months without physical contact with the opposite
    sex were eyeing the four Wrens with keen interest.

    The four grommets had been forced into submission by months of bullying
    and were already servile, but now Polly and Mary were unconsciously
    becoming subservient and effeminate by being forced to crossdress.
    Although they were likely not sexually aroused, they were certainly
    flattered that the young men found them attractive. For the first time
    in months they were not objects of scorn, rather they were objects of
    desire.

    As for Wren Holliday she was ambivalent about the whole dressing as a
    Wren thing; at least she wasn't being beaten and harassed all day. And
    Wren Nyland - well she had her own story. It was obvious now to everyone
    by the way she self-assuredly wore the clothes and makeup, the way she
    walked, even the way she talked, that crossdressing was not new to her.

    "Ok shut up you meatheads; this is a parade," Spike growled at his three cohorts who swaggered and harrumphed so as not to appear chided in front
    of the Wrens

    Spike took off his greatcoat and threw it on the table and walked down
    the line of Wrens. He put his cane under the chin of Mary Maine, lifting
    her head and looking into her big green eyes accentuated by eyeliner,
    mascara and eyeshadow. Her ruby-red lips were succulent and full.

    "This makeup seems excessive Wren Maine; is it in accordance with BR3,
    Royal Naval Uniform Regulations?" Spike asked.

    "No Leader but its how Wren Nyland taught me to wear it," Mary replied
    looking guiltily at Michele.

    Michele smiled and nodded wanly at her friend intimating it was ok to
    blame her; she was likely going to cop a beating anyway.

    Then he roughly lifted her uniform skirt.

    The three Leading Recruits gasped.

    "And these suspenders, stockings and filly satin knickers; are they in accordance with the BR?" he growled.

    The gauzy welts of the dark 15-denier stockings were snapped to garters attached to a black satin and lace suspender belt; the garters led under
    a pair sheer white nylon panties. Michele had made her charges trim
    their pubic hair and had gaffed their male genitalia so it almost looked
    like Mary had female parts under her silky knickers.

    "No Leader," Recruit Maine responded.

    "And you reek of perfume Wren Maine!"

    He dropped her skirt and approached Wren Holiday.

    "If you dropped a stone in weight Wren Holiday; you might be Wren
    material," he snarled and then strode on stopping in front of Wren Perkins.

    Polly looked absolutely stunning and other than Michele was the best
    looking of the four.

    "BR3 says that makeup must be discrete and heavy eyeliner, brightly
    coloured eyeshadow and nail polish and excessive makeup is prohibited.
    Isn't that right Wren Perkins?" Spike bellowed.

    "Err...if you so Leading Recruit Jones," Polly answered although she had
    not studied the section of BR3 regarding female uniforms; why would she?

    "And I bet..."

    Spike hiked up her skirt with his cane exposing her silky stocking tops
    and black lace and satin knickers.

    Michele was standing next to Spike; following him down the line as he
    inspected her Division.

    Spike dropped Polly's skirt and you could hear the gasp of
    disappointment from the three male observers. Spike swivelled on his
    heels and turned to Michele.

    "Go on! Lift you skirt Wren Nyland; we all know you will also be in
    contempt of general orders by wearing non-approved uniform but lets see anyway!"

    Michele cautiously lifted her skirt; the satin liner hissed on her sheer stockings. Slowly the shadow welt of her stockings came into view
    followed by the dark silky band of the welt proper. The shirt inched
    slowly up her creamy thighs exposing the lacy garters of a black and red suspender belt and finally the gusset of her red satin full-cut panties.

    "My god Wren Nyland! Red underwear! In uniform!" Spike was red-faced
    with anger.

    The other three men were just mesmerised by the sight of the pretty Wren holding up her skirt and showing off her sexy legs and knickers. It was
    like a fantasy come true; they had conveniently forgotten that 'their
    Wrens' were men.

    "But you told me you wanted feminine sexy Wrens Leader; so that's what
    you have," Michele said in her defence.

    "Don't you answer me back you bitch!" Spike spat.

    Without warning and as quick as lightning he dragged a chair out from
    under the nearby desk and fell into it, pulling Michele across his lap
    as he did so.

    Michele wriggled and squealed as he held her across his lap, pinning her
    wrists behind her back. Her skirt had ridden up exposing her
    stocking-clad legs and luscious, plump bottom encased in the sleek satin knickers. The globes of her buttocks strained at the slinky material
    while her legs kicked and scrambled as she struggled.

    At some stage Michele realised that Spike was becoming aroused; his
    engorged member strained against his trousers and pushed against
    Michele's lower belly. She could feel it through the panty material.

    Michele stopped wriggling because she knew that by struggling she was
    also stimulating him.

    Smack!

    "OOOwww!!" Michele howled as Spike's hand slapped her bottom.

    Smack!

    "Oh my God stop it!" she begged, but she felt his penis throb through
    the layers of clothing.

    Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

    Michele writhed in pain and wriggled and bucked in Spike's lap; his
    breathing was hot, heavy and ragged. He spanked Michele harder,
    delighting in the feel of her soft satin-cased buttocks on his fingers
    and her soft stockinged thighs and taunt belly on his lap.

    "You can't do this!" Polly Perkins screamed, but knew better than to
    break ranks.

    "Spike! Spike! Enough!" Jean Burgess yelled, but he too knew better that
    to psychically interfere.

    "I'll teach you to be insubordinate Wren Nyland!" Spike was red faced
    and puffing.

    Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

    Michele could actually feel him push up with his groin each time his
    hand came down on her behind. On the last slap his hand stayed on her
    buttocks pushing her panty-clad groin down on to his and Michele felt
    his cock convulse and then his hot seed soaked into the front panel of
    her panties.

    This was not the first time Michele had experienced a man expend himself
    on her panties and despite the burning sensation (or if she was to be
    honest with herself, enhanced by the pleasant burning sensation in her
    bottom) she too was aroused. Thankfully this was not apparent because
    she was gaffed.

    Spike was sweating despite the cold and he was red faced with exertion; attributes he used to disguise the fact that he had just orgasmed.

    He pushed Michele off his lap and she fell to floor, all legs, knickers
    and heels. She scrambled around on the polished tiled floor until she
    managed to get to her feet and smooth down her skirt. This spectacle
    attracted the attention of everyone in the room and gave Spike the
    distraction he needed to quickly pull on his greatcoat and cover the wet
    patch in the front of his trousers.

    The three other leading recruits were all sporting erections, which
    gratefully for them were hidden by their greatcoats. They would never
    admit to each other how arousing it had been to watch Wren Nyland with
    her skirt hiked up being paddled on her cute bottom. Mary and Polly were equally affected; their excitement hidden by their gaffs.

    Michele gained her composure and fell in with the other three Wrens.

    "Well let that be an example to you all. Wren Nyland had to break the
    rules to follow my orders. She met the requirements set by me to make
    the Wren Division look half-decent but in doing so she countermanded the instructions in BR3."

    "And for that she was both punished and rewarded," Spike said magnanimously.

    Everyone in the room looked perplexed but no one was going to argue with
    Spike.

    "Your reward, Wren's Division, is that tonight you may have a case of
    beer from the wets to share amongst yourselves and lights out will be
    delayed until 2230 so you can celebrate your attainment of finally
    becoming fit and proper Wrens."

    "Ok lads back to the wets. Good night ladies; your beer will be left
    outside the wets door.

    "Same duties tomorrow as they were today," Spike said dismissively.


    [continued in next message]

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