BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 06
STORY INFO
Michele submits to Knocker so he won't defile the TV Wrens.
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
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A Turn For The Worse

And so the Wrens and Leading Recruits settled into a routine. They knew
that if they just spent their days jollying, drinking, having sex, and carousing that HMS Chelmsford would soon deteriorate into a shitfight,
so they agreed to apply some discipline and stick to strict routines.

The Royal Navy has run on routines from time immemorial; the day is
divided into watches separated by the sounding of the bells, the
routines of colours and sunset, and determining which rig is to worn,
dress of the day or night clothing, and so forth.

As much as the Wrens loved wearing silky knickers, sussies, and
high-heels they were impractical to work in, and they decided that dress
of the day would be Number Threes, navy blue skirts and jackets, white
blouses, ties, full-cut panties, tights and black shoes. Makeup would be minimal but still worn. This rig was more practical while they went
about their daily routines of inspecting, cleaning, and making minor
repairs to the Establishment and even though Doris could wear cook's
whites in the galley if she wanted to; she seldom bothered to change and
cooked in her Number Threes.

The four men were a little disappointed but soon realised the
practicality of Michele's mandate, the Wrens still looked femme but not
as alluring as they did after dinner when they relaxed the dress rules
and wore heavy makeup, stockings, heels and silky lingerie. If the girls dressed like that during the day nothing would get done!

Another unwritten law was that they never spent the night together. As
Michele advised her three charges, men loved going to bed with a sexy effeminate transvestite, but waking up next to her with her wig askew,
makeup dissipated, and needing a shave (despite the fact none of them
really had much more that light fuzz for facial hair) did not bode well.
Best to keep up the fantasy. Michele helped her three protege's as much
as she could, teaching them makeup tips, taking lingerie and nightwear
from the Wrens block, always carefully noting where she had taken it
from so that it could be returned before the ROP ended. She even taught
them the unpleasant but necessary procedure for douching.

By mutual agreement Spike even promoted Michele to Leading Recruit Wren
as she was the obvious leader of the four 'Wrens'.

And so a routine was enacted, the Wrens were just 'grommets' during
working hours, keeping the depot ticking over with the begrudging
assistance of the Leading Recruits. But after dinner the girls and guys
met up in the wets and paired off, drinking and laughing until
eventually lust got the better of them and they went their separate ways
to sate their desires.

This all worked well and the four couples bonded and got closer as they
spent more time with each other.

But all good thing must come to an end.

Five days before Christmas, Petty Officer Knocker White woke up
hungover, sweaty, dirty and hungry. He'd been living in the Duty
Instructor's cabin at the recruit school now for two weeks living on
Newcastle Brown Ale, Captain Morgan Rum and the odd Pussers scran.

Spike had made sure that his Barrack Room Bettys remained a secret. One
of the Leading Recruits bought Knocker his meals and took away the
crockery when he had finished, although often the meals were hardly
touched; left outside the door of the cabin in a congealed mess of gravy
and mashed potato.

Knocker was not even sober enough to realise that a Leading Recruit was bringing him his meals when it was obvious that the bullies should just
detail off a 'grommet' to do such a menial task.

And so on that fateful day PO White staggered out of his cabin, hungry
and unwashed, reeking of stale beer, he made his way to the galley to
raid the fridge. Jason and Michele should have heard the cabin door open
and close as it was just down from the Regulating Office but they were
out and about conducting rounds, making sure the depot was being maintained.

Dressed only in his greatcoat, filthy underwear and boots without socks, Knocker staggered across the snow-strewn partition between the buildings
with the intention to raid the galley fridge and scurry back to his
cabin with whatever food was available.

He crashed through the back door to the galley, a snow flurry following
him though the door. Doris, her back to the door preparing lunch, felt
the icy blast.

"Close the fucking door will you; that cold air is blowing right up me
skirt!" she squeaked in the falsetto she had developed since she had
started crossdressing.

Knocker was stunned. What was this plump young Wren doing in the galley?
They were supposed to be on leave.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?" Knocker growled.

Doris spun on her heels, her pretty face a mask of shock and horror.

"Oh my god! It's Petty Officer White!" Doris whimpered.

Knocker strode across the galley and roughly grabbed the Wren cook,
gawking at her with disbelief, breathing a fetid odour of stale beer and halitosis into her startled face. He stared at her intently for a beat
until the penny dropped.

"Oh my fucking god you're a tranny! A fucking Kai Tai Wren! Those
fucking conniving kellicks have turned one of the grommets into a
barrack room Betty!" he laughed.

He held Doris out at arm's length and surveyed her.

"And a decent fucking job they've done of it too! You ain't half bad."

"I might have had a chequered career but I'm no sea dodger and I've been
to South East Asia a few times and fucked my share of Kai Tais and lady
boys. I've also been to Pink Pussycats in town and picked up the odd
tranny there too."

Doris was too shocked to move; she was aware that Knocker had her in a vice-like grip and took in some of what he was saying; they'd all heard
tales of sailors fucking 'Kai Tai' transvestites when deployed to South
East Asia. She was also vaguely aware that 'Pink Pussycats' was a club
in Chelmsford frequented by crossdressers and their admirers.

"Yes you're quite the pretty little chubette aren't you girly? What's
your name?"

"Doris," she whimpered.

"Well Doris; why don't you leave making scran for a while and take care
of this instead," Knocker grinned through his rotten teeth.

To Doris' horror Knocker pulled her close to him and drew her hand
inside his greatcoat and placed it on his gnarled cock whilst lowering
his scraggy face and closing his lips to hers. Doris shuddered but was helpless. Knocker plunged his tongue into her mouth and she gagged on
his fetid breath. His free hand went to her ample buttocks and squeezed
them cruelly as he pulled her against him.

His thickening penis protruded from his putrid underpants and rubbed
against Doris' slack fingers as he ground against her.

"Come on Doris put a bit of effort into it!" Knocker closed her fingers
on his phallus and thrust against her.

His face closed on hers again and he forced his tongue into her mouth
but Doris was still too traumatised to respond.

"Oh you're fucking hopeless!" he growled

Knocker shook Doris who was as limp as a rag doll in his arms.

"I'll fucking-well wake you up!"

Knocker dragged Doris over to the counter, bent her over and hiked up
her skirt exposing the dark gusset of her tights and her white full-cut knickers.

Doris began to struggle and flail around; her generous buttocks
wriggling and gyrating as she tried to squirm free of his grip.
Knocker's free hand scrambled around the counter, then he grinned evilly
as his fingers closed on a wooden spoon.

He flailed the wooden spoon against Doris buxom bottom.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh fuck that hurts!" Doris wailed.

"Shut up Doris!" Knocker leered as he paddled her bum.

Doris was sobbing with pain and humiliation and then to her horror she
felt Knocker pull down her tights and knickers, exposing her creamy
white globes, which were now glowing red where he had spanked her.

He tossed the wooden spoon and spanked her plump bottom with his bare
hand, cruelly scrunching his fingers into her tender flesh after every
few strokes. His cock was now throbbing and dribbling clear pre-seminal
fluid, he was so excited he thought he might climax in his underpants if
he didn't do something soon.

"I'm going to put me cock between your pink cheeks and fuck your fat
arse but first I'm going to get some head!" Knocker snarled.

He pulled Doris off the bench and pushed her to her knees, sobbing and tremulous, her skirt around her waist and her knickers and tights
bunched around her thighs.

Knocker grabbed Doris by the ears and forced her face towards his groin;
his repulsive phallus poking from his underwear, his greatcoat opened wide.

Doris was sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, absolutely disgusted
and full of dread as the rancid member wobbled inches from her face.

"Here we go girly," Knocker thrust forward his pulsing penis sliding
over Doris' lipsticked lips.

"Leave her alone you fucking bully!" Michele screeched as she burst
through the galley door.

Knocker's head twisted in Michele's direction, at first shocked, and
then he smirked and roughly pushed Doris' face from his groin. She fell
to her hands and knees, sobbing on the grimy galley deck.

"Well what have we got here? A nice sexy young Wren, wearing a Leading Recruit's lanyard! Must mean you're more accomplished than this porker," Knocker cruelly poked Doris with the toe of his boot.

"Now get over here and suck my cock before I lose my temper!" he growled.

"Leave the galley Doris!" Michele ordered.

"But Michele..." Doris protested.

"Leave the galley and come back in twenty minutes to finish cooking
scran," Michele said, soothingly this time.

Doris hiked up her underwear and tights and scrambled out the door and
Michele locked the galley and sauntered over to the PO whose cock was
still sticking out of filthy underwear.

"Ok, it's just you and I now Knocker," Michele stared at him defiantly.

"Ok girly, if that's how you want it, you're better looking than Doris
anyway. And it's Petty Officer White to you not Knocker!" he sneered.

"Oh, if it's ok for me to suck your cock; I'm sure I can call you
Knocker," Michele scoffed.

She dropped to her knees before him, took a deep breath, and suckled his scabrous phallus. She gagged from the vile taste of sweat and smegma and
the repellent stench emanating from his crotch.

Michele knew he wouldn't last long so she set her resolve and slavered
at his tumescent penis and lifted a hand to stroke his scrotum.

"Oh my fucking god that's good!" Knocker crooned.

He rocked on his heels and fucked Michele's face. He soon felt his
climax approaching and he whipped his cock out of Michele's mouth and
dragged her to her feet.

"No!" Michele screamed but to no avail.

Knocker threw her against the counter winding her; then he spun her
around and bent her over, pinning her facedown on the bench. He yanked
up her skirt and ripped down her knickers and tights, his fingernails
leaving welts on her buttocks and thighs. He kicked her heels apart,
forcing Michele to open her legs and then she felt him behind her. His
cock hard and hot against her cold pale flesh as he sought out her
puckered bud.

Knocker thrust the glans of his thick, turgid member into Michele's
tight buttocks and she screamed and stamped her feet attempting to free herself. Knocker held her face against the counter top with one hand and slapped her buttocks as hard as he could with the other.

"Keep still you fucking Nancyboy!" he hissed.

As hard as he pushed, even with his cock leaking precum, he couldn't get
it past Michele's impenetrable sphincter. Michele was still struggling
and Knocker was puffing with exertion. Then he saw a pat of butter, in arms-reach, next to a floured breadboard. Knocker stuck his fingers in
the butter and greased his erection, pushing the remains on the butter
pat into Michele's puckered anal cavity.

Michele knew what was coming and she took a deep breath and hung onto
the bench as she felt Knocker's cock probing at her behind.

The pain was tremendous as he pushed his pulsing penis deep into
Michele's bowels until he was in her up the hilt; his crotch crushed
against her soft buttocks. Despite the searing pain Michele resolved she
would not cry. She panted and heaved as Knocker pounded his long, thick
phallus in and out of her, brutally bruising her delicate anus.

"How do you like that, you fucking barrack room Betty," he grunted as he
fucked Michele viciously.

Michele gritted her teeth knowing he wouldn't last long and in act of
defiance she pushed back against him and wriggled her buttocks.

"Is that all you've got?" she hissed through gritted teeth.

That was enough to send Knocker over the top and gripped her hips and
pulled her hard against him as he emptied his scrotum deep inside
Michele's anus. He held the lovely young Wren tight as he ground against
her and howled as her tight passage convulsed and milked him of his seed.

His passion spent he whipped his deflating penis from Michele's anus and
flung her to the floor. He wiped his buttery cock with a dishtowel while
he watched the pitiful young Wren get to her knees, holding in a gasp of
pain as she stood and pulled up her knickers and tights.

"Fuck that wasn't bad," Knocker sniggered lifting Michele's chin.

She stared back at him shamelessly, holding back tears of pain and
humiliation.

"How many of you grommets have those fuckheads turned into Bettys
anyway?" Knocker inquired.

Michele knew where this was going.

"Here's the deal PO. You now know what's going on but if you report it
you will get into as much shit as we all will and probably more because
you're supposed to be in charge," Michele seethed.

Knocker was about to explode but Michele shut him up. She moved in close
so he could smell her perfume, feel her body, and look into her
beautiful blue eyes. She kissed him chastely and patted his limp cock.

"I'll come to your cabin every day at 1100 and you can do whatever you
want to me. But! You leave the other Wrens alone and you don't let the
leading Recruits know I'm servicing you. It's our secret until after
ROP." Michele squeezed his cock again and kissed him sliding her tongue
into his mouth, then she abruptly pulled away.

"What about Doris? The fat one?" Knocker grumbled.

"I'll make sure she keeps her mouth shut," Michele assured him.

"And I'll make sure you keep yours open!" Knocker visualised his sick
joke by shaking his penis at her.

Knocker grabbed a loaf of freshly baked bread and a jar of strawberry
jam off the counter and jammed them into the pockets of his greatcoat.
He buttoned the coat and then looked viciously at Michele.

"You better stick by your deal or I'll arse-fuck every one of you Wrens
until you bleed," he snarled.

"Eleven O'clock tomorrow. Don't be late!" he growled and stormed out the galley.

As soon as he left Michele started to shake and gag and she just made it
to the sink before she heaved up and puked. She was shuddering with
revulsion and disgust, sobbing and gagging as she emptied her stomach. Eventually she calmed down and rinsed her mouth under the tap, which was
how Doris found her.

"Oh my god Michele I'm so sorry! Did he hurt you?" Doris blubbered.

Michele spritzed cold water on her face and turned to face her friend
smiling.

"Nah! He was easily dealt with," Michele said with a faux grin on her face.

Then she stepped forward and gripped Doris on the upper arm so tight
that she flinched.

"But you tell no one! Absolutely no one Doris; do you hear me?"

Doris nodded banefully.

"Promise Doris! I want you to say it!" Michele's steely blue eyes stared
into Doris' brown doe eyes.

"I promise Michele," she whispered.

"Good, good. Now get cracking on scran and I'll see you at lunchtime,"
Michele smiled sweetly at her friend.

Michele left the galley with all the dignity she could muster but as
soon as she got outside she collapsed against the wall. She rested for a
while and fought the pain and then hobbled over to her cabin where she
shucked off her clothes and took a long hot shower. She carefully
sponged at the welts, scratches, and bruises on her body and soaped
herself up and rinsed until she felt better. She used a douche of warm
soapy water to expel Knocker's disgusting issue. She fixed her wig and
makeup and cleaned into a fresh uniform dropping the knickers and tights
she had been wearing in the galley into the gash.

When Michele showed up at the cafeteria for lunch she looked as gorgeous
as ever. Her uniform hid her wounds and the four aspirin she had taken
made her pain manageable. She gave Jason a beatific smile and winked at
him mischievously and he smiled back.

She saw Doris behind the counter watching her charade and Michele gave
her a warning glare and Doris turned away from her and started talking
to Billy Marron who held out his plate for Doris to serve him.

Michele looked down at the plate of food in front of her and pushed it
away untouched. She dug her cigarettes out of her jacket pocket, stood
up and left the café.

She leaned her back against the wall outside the café and blew out
smoke. Jason came out the door and sidled up to her. He took her hand.

"Is everything ok?" he looked searchingly in her eyes.

"Everything's wonderful," she smiled back at him sweetly.

To be continued.

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