The instructor (5)

In 2012 my dear and sexy male friend of many years co-wrote a story with me, called Katie & Steve. When I put the goal on my 101 list to co-write at least two more stories, he was the first I turned to and he was totally up for another, sexy story. I started the story; he ended it. We could not plan ahead, as you did not know what the other would write. The story has been sent to and fro numerous times as we added new pieces to it, but we continuously made sure that it made ONE story.

This friend of mine has featured in quite a couple of true stories on my blog and will do so more in future.

*** The picture was borrowed from vultureofcritique.wordpress.com


womansoldierContinued from… The instructor (4)

Completing her fourth round around the parade ground, Zoe was the last to join the platoon that was already standing in front of the Sergeant, waiting for their next orders.
“All the despicable male examples of the human race are allowed to go to the barracks. Take a shower, rest and be back here in two hours,” the Sergeant yelled.
“You filthy lot of female trash,” he continued, “you are going nowhere, thanks to Red.”
Everyone looked at Zoe. She was the only one in the platoon with red hair. Some of the women looked at her with sympathy written on their faces, but most of the women looked angry. Zoe shivered. This was not a great start to her military career, she feared. Again she doubted her decision to join the army, but only for a split second. She will not allow this… this… this… monster to break her. She will not allow any of these bitches to get her down. She was stronger than that.

“Now, ladies,” the last word was uttered with disgust, “you will run from here, across the parade ground and back. Remember, you are one. You leave as one, you return as one. Now go!”
All of the women turned around and started to run across the parade ground. Halfway to the other side, several groups have formed. Zoe found herself somewhere in the middle. She was breathing loud and had a aching sting in her sides. She was not running fast anymore. She was not even jogging anymore. It was more like a brisk walking pace. More women passed her, now not only from behind her, but also from the front. Zoe reached the other side of the parade ground and as she turned around, she saw two women that had more problems to cover the distance than she had. One of them looked like she was going to fall. Zoe rushed forward to help her. Together they started to run back to the other side. The third woman joined them, helping Zoe to support the woman that have almost fell.

When at last the three of them returned to the other side of the parade ground, the Sergeant and the rest of the platoon were waiting. Zoe expected the Sergeant to scold her again, but she was pleasantly surprised.
“I told you all, you leave as one, you return as one. Now why is it that half of the platoon was back and the rest dropped in like lost rain drops in the desert? When you see that your mates are in trouble, you help them. Like those two long haired creatures there, who helped the one who could barely stand on her feet anymore.”
Zoe felt proud. She did something right. This feeling lasted only for a couple of seconds.
“You will all repeat the exercise. All but that one who can barely stand. Go!”

“Prick,” Zoe mumbled as she turned around to run across the parade ground again. The woman that joined her helping the other in the previous run, ran next to her. Their pace was slow, both being very tired and sore from all the running they had already done. They were the last two to arrive on the other side, where the rest of the platoon was waiting.
“Maybe you can try to run faster?” a dark-haired woman said sarcastically.
“I can’t,” Zoe defended herself, “this is too much.”
“Ah, poor thing,” the same woman said, “this is different than having a manicure and sipping tea all day, right?”
“Why do you think I sipped tea all day?” Zoe asked in amazement.
“That’s what all you rich bitches do. Now shut the fuck up and let’s get back to the other side.”
“You’re wrong, I am not rich at…” Zoe started to say, but no one was listening anymore. Zoe could feel the hatred coming from the women that stayed closed to the dark-haired one. Nevertheless, the pace was more relaxed and they all arrived on the other side at the same time.

“Look at you!” the Sergeant said as he walked between the female troops. “Filthy. You are all filthy. How dare you? Look at your T-shirts. Filthy. Your boots. Filthy. Your faces. Filthy. Scum of the earth you are. Filthy scum of the earth. Now get your asses to the barracks and clean yourselves up. Inspection is at 6pm. Go!”
Zoe sighed. Thank god it was over and she could go clean up and rest. She had no idea what time it was. Just before she entered the barracks she heard the Sergeants voice again.
“Don’t forget, recruit. 5pm.”
She knew he was talking to her.

To be continued… The instructor (6)

© Rebel’s Notes

2 thoughts on “The instructor (5)

  1. Fred Strunk says:

    Great continuing Story! Zoe is in trouble but stops to help someone else. Mind of Her own, Heart of gold, Bitch when it suits Her! My kind of Woman! You are a Hell of a Writer!

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