Between Ranks

From MulpWiki (read-only)
Jump to: navigation, search

The fourth story by Sergeant Nonymous for Fingerbang, left unfinished. He said he intended it to be a cautionary tale of fraternization in the military, in which a Corporal (Anon) becomes romantically involved with a Private First Class (Rainbow Dash).

To date, he has not finished it, and it seems like it may never be.


Between Ranks[edit]

>Monday, 0700 hours, Fort Canterlot.
"There waaas a giiirl who wore a yellow ribbon!"
"She wore it in the springtime, in the merry month of May!"
"And iiif you aaasked her why the hell she wore it!"
"She wore it for that soldier who was far, far away!"
"Far away!"
"Far away!"
>You are Corporal Anonymous, and you are running. Not running from anything, but for physical activity. And alongside you is your platoon of twenty-five soldiers; fuzzies, privates, private first classes and specialists.
>Your sergeant and mentor, Staff Sergeant Thunderlane, is keeping pace behind you.
>He's seeing how well you call cadence. It's one of your favorite things to do, alongside Drill and Ceremony.
>You've worked hard to get where you are now. Being a corporal is the first step along the NCO ladder, and only through initiative, dedication and strength were you able to get here.
>You're running your platoon at a fairly easy pace. Another platoon from another company passes you on the left side of the road.
>A new private, not used to the hills around here, still falls out. You order one of his fellow soldiers to stay back and keep pace with him and make sure he doesn't get lost.
>The last thing you want for the young private is to wind up taking a wrong turn and ending up face-to-face with some officer.
>Fort Canterlot is a fairly large post, pretty easy to get lost in if you don't know your way around.
>But you've been here for about seven months, and this is your second time being stationed here. You know it like the back of your hand.

>PT hours are from 0630 to 0750. SSG Thunderlane let you take command of PT, and you know a good route around the post to take up that much time.
>Down the road from the barracks, past the PX, around the bubble, through the motor pool, past 3-11's barracks, up and down washrag hill, back to the barracks, and then another lap.
>Not everyone makes it. You don't take a lot of personal pleasure in breaking off the weak runners, but they need to learn to keep up.
>You weren't even running them at an A-Group pace.
>Running, like all PT, is mental, not physical. Well, being in shape helps. They'll get there eventually.
"Quick-time, march!"
>The platoon (or what's left of it) comes to a walking pace, keeping in time with your cadence.
"Left, left, left right. Left, left, left right. Left, your left!"
"Left, right, your left!"
"Left, your left!"
"Left, right, your left!"
"Mark time, march!"
>They stop in place, keeping their feet marching in tune with yours.
"Platoon, halt!"
>They stop moving. You can hear some of them trying to subdue their heavy breathing from the runing. You turn to the right to face the formation.
"Left, face!"
>They all turn to face you, except an E1 in the back. He accidentally turns right before desperately correcting himself, probably hoping nobody noticed.
>In this army, someone always notices.
>Just a fresh private. You were like that, once. Can't hold it against him.
>You do an about-face and note SSG Thunderlane's approach. You salute to him.
"Formation is yours, sergeant."
>"Hooah, good work," he compliments your cadence calling. You quickly run to the right around the formation, falling in on the left.

>SSG Thunderlane puts everyone at ease and then pushes out some info about what's going down today.
>There's going to be some new soldiers coming to the company, and your platoon is only getting one of them.
>The First Sergeant hasn't told him yet who it is, but it's apparently a high-speed soldier.
'Good,' you think to yourself. 'We need some more of those around here.'
>The last thing your platoon needs is another dirtbag who needs to be reminded of what right looks like.
>He dismisses the soldiers for the morning. Like usual, next hit time is 0930 at the motor pool.
>Your soldiers circle around you, their squad leader.
>You never keep them around for long. You could never stand it when a squad leader kept soldiers around for no reason when they could be showering or eating breakfast.
>After asking if any of them have any problems that need to be resolved right away and hearing no from all of them, you release them to their rooms.
>You quickly jog back into the barracks with them, heading up to the third floor and sliding the key to your room in the door.
>You throw your PT uniform on the back of your chair and hit the shower before busting out some cereal and milk.
>A sugary cereal. Not the healthiest thing, but you take good care of yourself, enough to justify enjoying it.
>Your physical fitness badge is proof enough of that.
>The work day proceeds rather normally. It's a monday, so you and your platoon PMCS your vehicles, get them fueled up and ready for an alert, should one come.
>A specialist hands you a 5988 and you go down the list of faults for the vehicle. The specialist stands at parade rest while you look it over.
"Thank you, Specialist Sentry," you say and send him on his way.
>As you do so, Sergeant Biceps, an absolute fitness nut, walks up and smiles. "Corporal, just got the call from Sergeant T. They need you at the company."

>You go to parade rest, but he immediately tells you to relax. "At ease that shit, corporal. The hell do I look like, First Sergeant?"
You smile. "Any idea what they need me for?"
>"Those new soldiers came in a little early. Ours is at the company with her luggage and she needs to be shown to the barracks. Sergeant T is low on manpower and he's already decided she's going to be in your squad, a replacement for PFC Roseluck."
"He say who the new soldier is?"
>"PFC Dash, straight outta AIT from Fort Cloudsdale. Sergeant T wants you to introduce yourself and make her feel welcome."
"Rodger that," you say. You turn to head back to your squad.
>You leave them with some orders to break for lunch at 1130 hours if they've finished up PMCS and head to the company.
>It's not a very long walk over. Outside, you see SSG Thunderlane talking to a PFC with actual goddamned rainbow hair.
>A straight-up fucking Roy G. Biv combo that she has pulled back into a bun.
>At least THAT part is regulation.
>You approach them, and they both turn to look at her. Her eyes are a striking color---magenta? You can't tell. She fixes you with a smile and looks you up and down, noting the two chevrons on your chest.
>SSG Thunderlane introduces you. "Corporal Anonymous, this is PFC Dash, your newest squaddie.
"Nice to meet you, PFC Dash," you say, extending a hand.
>She grips you tightly, almost as if she's trying to prove how strong she is.
>"Pleased to meet you, corporal," she says with a confident grin. She raises a brow.
>SGG Thunderlane turns to go back into the company. "I need to get back to First Sergeant; she's throwing a fit about some messed up paperwork. You take it from here, Corporal."
"Rodger," you reply, before turning your attention back to her.

>She stares back into your eyes. "It's the hair, right?"
"That's the first thing on my mind, yeah."
>"New AR 670-1 regs allow multi-colored hair, up to and including all colors of the rainbow."
>Fucking AR 670-1, it gets more lenient every year.
"A bit obvious for a sniper to pick out, don't you think?"
>She shrugs, still at parade rest. "I'd like to see them try and keep up with me. I'm the fastest recruit out of Cloudsdale."
>She's not lacking in confidence, that's for sure. Or maybe arrogance.
>You'll give her a chance to prove herself at tomorrow's PT. You look down at her bags. Two full duffle bags, an assult pack, rucksack and a personal bag.
"Hope you like climbing hills with luggage," you tell her.
>She grins a mischeivous grin. "Oh, I can handle a load, trust me. The bigger the better."
>You pause, before chuckling a little. She kneels down and picks up her rucksack and one of the duffle bags. You get the other duffle and her assault pack. You pick up her personal bag and strap it around her free arm.
"It's a bit of a walk to the barracks," you tell her.
>She flashes that same smile. "Let me know if you get tired, Corporal."
>You smile.
>You think you'll like this PFC.

>You take up the lead, showing PFC Dash the way to the barracks. True to your word, there's more than one hill involved.
>True to her word, she doesn't quit and keeps going, carrying her ruck, duffle and personal bag.
>"So," she says between breaths, "how many times do we go to the field, Corporal?"
"Depends on the season," you tell her. "Winter months, about once a month. When it warms up, maybe twice or three times."
>"And how about the range?" she asks. "I've been too long without shooting."
You chuckle a bit. "If we're lucky, maybe once every two months or so."
>She lets out an audible groan. "That's disappointing," she mutters.
"Well, that's the thing about non-infantry units, we try to save ammo for when we don't deploy."
>She stops, thinking about it until she understands your joke. "Oh, I see what you did there, Corporal. But we could totally deploy, right?"
You shrug. "If World War 3 happens, sure, anything's possible."
>You reach the final stretch. At the top of the hill is the barracks. You tell her that you're almost home.
>"Sounds good," she says, gritting her teeth and smiling. "How about PT, Corporal? How hard do we go?"
"Not as hard as some places I've been. Company runs and battalion runs are about the toughest thing we do. Wednesday's leg day---hope you're ready for that."
>"Oh, my legs can take it," she says. "I didn't get the fastest runtime by being no slouch."
>There she goes again with that.
>Well, everyone's got to have something to brag about. You'll get a chance to see her in action tomorrow morning and see if her boasting holds up.
"Tomorrow isn't usually a run day; we had one this morning. But the First Sergeant wants a company run, so we're gonna have ourselves a company run. We'll see how well you do."

>She nods for her only reply. You reach the steps leading up to the barracks and hold the door open for her.
>"So, what floor am I on?" she asks. "I hope it's not the top floor, like basic."
You check the newly updated roster for her answer. "Second floor. That's where most of the females are."
>She nods and picks her duffle back up. "Let's go, Corporal!"
"Your enthusiasm is noted, but we need to wait for your room key to get here," you tell her, setting her bags down.
>Dropping her bags as well, she takes off her soft cap and wipes the sweat from her brow.
>Damn, that rainbow hair is fucking crazy. You still can't believe that's in regs.
>Taking out your phone, you search for new orders or info. A text from SSG Thunderlane tells you all you need to know.
"Alright, PFC Dash. Your in-processing is going to be done at the company tomorrow after PT. You'll be expected to be at PT."
>"No problem, Corporal," she replies, approaching and going to parade rest.
"Hopefully, we can get it all done tomorrow, but sometimes the websites don't like to cooperate. But it'll get done eventually. In the evening, there's a female mentoring and sponsorship program meeting at the theater that you'll need to go to."
>"Got it. Where's the DFAC on post, Corporal? I'm starving."
"I'll show you where as soon as we get your bags in the room." You turn to look at the doors to the barracks opening. "Speaking of which, here she is."
>Specialist Fluttershy enters, greeting you both. "Oh, hello," she says to Dash, shaking her hand. "I've got your room key here. Welcome to the company."
>"Nice to meet you," Dash grins widely.

>SPC Fluttershy turns to you, handing you the key. "Do you, um, need any help carrying her bags up?"
"I think we've got it," you smile. "Made it the whole way here, after all."
>The pink-haired specialist nods. "Oh---that's right, um, okay. I'll see you two later."
>When she leaves, Dash notes, "Kind of nervous for the Army, isn't she?"
"All kinds get in," is your only reply as you heft up her bags and she does the same.
>Climbing the staircase to the second floor, you find her room number and slide the key in. The room is empty, save for two empty dressers, two desks with chairs, two mattresses on wooden frame beds and a refrigerator with a microwave on top.
>No roommate for now. She might get one later.
"Did you bring your own sheets and pillows?" you ask.
>"Uh, no, not really, Corporal."
"Well, after chow I'll take you over to the PX and we'll get you some things you need. Closet hangers, sheets, pillows and pillowcases, a blanket."
>"They don't issue that stuff out?" she asks.
You laugh, remembering that she just got out of basic. "Maybe you'd like to line up every weekend to turn in your linen and get new sheets instead of owning your own?"
>She quickly shakes her head. "Oh, hell no," she laughs. As you set her duffle bag on the bed, you hear something unzip. You turn to see that she's taken off her jacket top, leaving her tan shirt, nearly soaked with sweat from carrying the bags, clinging to her toned, tight upper body.
>You can see the outline of her bra, cupping her firm-looking breasts.
>She takes a water bottle out of her cargo pocket and quickly uncaps it, downing almost half of it in one big swig.
>You should look away, but she catches your eye and smiles. "See something you like, Corporal?"
"Careful, PFC," you say with a smile, turning to pick up her ruck and place it on the bed. "It's all well and good to joke but don't let anyone else walking by to hear something like that."

>"Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, eh Corporal?" she says in a tone that's ever-so-slightly hinting at something else.
>Looking over your shoulder, you see her looking at you. A few seconds pass.
>You pick up your soft cap and turn to her. "Go ahead and just drop your stuff off for now. I'll meet you down in the lobby when you're ready and we'll get something to eat."
>"Rodger that," she says, still smiling that odd smile.
>Leaving, you head downstairs.
>She's an interesting one, this PFC. Confident, seems like a good soldier.
>Seems like there's something troublesome about her, though. You'll have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't make any big mistakes in her first few weeks in the unit.
>She joins you in the lobby after a moment, and you go to the dining facility. You converse with her the whole way there, learning a bit about her past and what she hopes to get out of the military.
>Something that sets her apart from most privates is her honest desire to be here and be a soldier. A lot of times, people join up only because they need to, and come to resent it.
>She doesn't seem to be that way, which is good. Soldiers like that are good for the morale of the unit. Too many pessimists and the whole thing gets dragged down.
>After chow, you take her to the PX to get some things for her room.
>As you browse the aisles, she jokes, "Heh, you know Corporal, no guy's ever taken me out for dinner and shopping before now."
>Again with the casual, flirtatious double entendre.
Against your better judgment, you jokingly reply, "I usually just treat privates with push-ups. I thought I'd make a special exception for you."
>She raises an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Don't think I could take it?"
>Checking to make sure you are both out of sight, she leans in a little closer. "I bet I could break you off in a push-up contest, Corporal."

>She says push-up contest, but her words carry a much deeper meaning. You look her in her eyes and she looks back into yours, speaking some kind of challenge.
>You find yourself swallowing a little bit of spit. A nagging warning in the back of your mind reminds you of the danger this kind of situation is presenting.
>Never go between ranks.
>Last month, a sergeant major was caught fooling around with a specialist.
>Ever since, higher command has been cracking down hard on fraternization. A lieutenant and a sergeant got busted two weeks ago.
>Your battalion commander gave a long speech recently about it, and how anyone caught boing between ranks would be severely punished.
>And here you are, staring this PFC in the eyes.
>You break away from her eyes and go back to helping her get some things.
>Best to just push those thoughts away and remain professional. You can't let things like this move too fast.
>Afterwards, you two head back up to the barracks.
>You lay in your bed that night, staring up at the ceiling.
>She's on the floor above you, in her room, alone.
>Why can't you get her out of your head? She's just a rainbow-colored PFC with an arrogant streak.
>You lay perfectly still, your eyes open in the darkness.
>A thought enters your head. A sudden, wild, crazy thought. A carnal one.

>You could.
>But you know you shouldn't.
>Every single bit of your military career tells you that you shouldn't.
>You sit up in the bed, staring at your shoes in the darkness.
>Why are you even considering this?
>You reach out and take hold of your shoes.
>Then you drop them and fall back onto your bed.
>Jesus, Corporal.
>The hell are you even thinking?
>Just because you haven't gotten some since coming to this unit, you'll jump on the first PFC that shoots you pretty eyes and ruin your career in the process?
>That’s only if you get caught.
>Famous last words, right there.
>You force your eyes shut and claw at your face.
>It's just... instincts. Natural urges.
>You're more professional than that.
>Just get over it. You've got PT in the morning.
>You're sure that this business with her won't last beyond the first few days. You just met her, after all.
>Soon, she’ll just be part of the daily routine, another face in the formation and the hallways.
>You hope.

>I will not use my grade or position to attain pleasure, profit or personal safety.
>I will NOT use my grade or position to attain PLEASURE, profit or personal safety.
>You sigh as that one line of the creed of non-commissioned officers echoes through your head.
>These past three weeks have only gotten worse. PFC Dash is doing wonderfully and fitting into the company just fine and her attitude is a hit with the unit.
>But the way she looks at you... the winks, the nudges when no one else is looking, the hushed tone of her voice when she whispers her flirtatious words.
>You can't keep your eyes off her at PT. You keep watching the sleek tone of her body as she runs like the wind or when she's doing pull-ups.
>Every single day is a growing hell.
>It almost makes this whole thing seem like a test. How the hell have you managed three weeks of this?
>You see her rainbow hair whenever you grow distracted at work. It dangles out there, just within reach, a forbidden fruit waiting to be plucked and eaten.
>You shake your head and try to once more ignore it.
>You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to see SSG Thunderlane.
>"You alright?" he asks.
"Yes, Sergeant, of course," you reply. "Just a little homesick lately, is all."
>He nods, understanding the feeling. "You've been a little out of it lately, is all. Your work performance hasn't been impacted but you seem distracted by something. Anything you want to talk about?"
>Looking him in the eyes, you shake your head no.
>He nods and pats you on the shoulder. He knows that you know you can come to him with anything.
>But this... This is the kind of thing that could sink a career.
>Surely he'd understand, right? That it's just a temptation you're trying to work over?
>He might move her to another platoon if you tell him... but do you want that?

>As you work later that day, filing away some more paperwork, the rainbow vixen moves by your desk in a blur.
>You hear something metallic drop and clink and before you can react, she's gone.
>You look down on the ground for what it may be and find that it's a key...
>Undoubtedly a copy of the one that leads to her room. You swallow as you realize what it may mean.
>No, fuck that. What it DOES mean.
>Looking at it, you are filled with conflicting emotions, torn between what you know is right and what you know you want.
>You could still go to SSG Thunderlane...
>Moving quickly to make sure nobody else sees anything; you swipe the key from the ground.
>God help you.

>You hold onto it for a day.
>You sit in your room now, holding it in your palm, feeling as though it could burn through your hand.
>You can't be honestly considering this, can you?
>Think about your career. Your honor and integrity.
>Think about those Rainbow locks, sweaty and thrown backwards as she screams out your name...
>Think about what will happen if you get found out.
>Think about those lips, wrapped around your cock, sucking, her tantalizing eyes staring up at you...
>Think about everything you'd be risking.
>Think about everything she could give to you...
>Throwing your shoes on, you move with purpose up to the second floor.
>Knowing that the longer you linger, the bigger the chance you'll be seen, you insert the key, turn it and enter the room, closing the door behind you.
>Your heart is beating a million miles a minute.
>Turn around.
>Turn around right the fuck now, soldier.
>Turn aro---
>Dash rounds the corner of her room, wearing only a sports bra and a pair of spandex underwear that do little to conceal what lies beneath.
>"Fucking finally," she breathes, closing the distance between you.
>Her lips are on yours, her hands buried in her hair. Her breathing is thick, heavy with need.
>Her skin is coated with a thin level of sweat. She must've been working out in her room when you arrived.
>She has an athletic musk, the erotic appeal of which is as hard to understand as it is tantalizing and new, so unlike any of the women you've been with.

>A leg wraps around yours as your hands grasp at her exposed backside, feeling the toned muscle.
>Her tongue forces its way into your mouth, inpatient and uncaring for subtlety and romance, wrestling with yours in a powerful clash of dominance.
>Reaching down, you cup her firm, tight ass and she moans into your mouth, her fingers digging into your scalp.
>You had already been sweating a little but now things were really heating up.
>Lifting her up, her legs slide around your waist and hook on each other as she hugs your neck, almost violently making out with you.
>You carry her into her room proper and all but trip over the bed, landing on top of her. She laughs and bites your neck, eliciting a surprised grunt from you.
>Her hands grab your shirt and pull it upwards, nearly tearing it off your chest.
>You can't help but take two handfuls of her breasts, sliding your hands underneath her bra and teasing her nipples.
>She squirms and moans into your neck as your hands work their magic, eventually unclasping the bra. It is discarded carelessly aside, much like your shirt.
>Her hand dives into your pants after she undoes your belt, tightly gripping your painfully hard erection.
>"Fuck," she says against your skin as she jacks you off through your underwear.
>Her hand stays there while her other hand dives into her wet and dripping spandex, fingering herself while you slide your pants and underwear down.
>Your rock hard cock free, she takes an almost painful grasp of your balls, causing you to gasp. She smiles as she brings up the hand she was using to play with herself and licks it before pulling you down into another kiss.
>A rough changing of positions occurs and now she's on top of you.

>Fuck, everything is moving so fast.
>Her touch is electric, shocking you to your core.
>Her body, writhing against your own, so young and energetic, full of want and lust...
>You've never been more goddamn hard in your life.
>Much like everything else since you entered her room, she wastes no time and straight-up shoves you deep inside of her with one hand, causing you both to moan loudly.
>Her hands reach down onto your chest and she leans forward, bouncing her ass up and down in your lap. She bites her lip and looks you in the eyes as she fucks you.
>Your hands grab onto her hips as she rocks hers into yours with a savage need, a hunger that can't be satisfied, but that's not going to stop the two of you from trying.
>She throws her head back and shouts as her knees tighten around your sides. She bounces again and again, engulfing your dick with her hot, wet pussy.
>Each bounce is like being struck with a bolt of lightning, setting your nervous system on fire with pleasure.
>Every reservation, every angel on your shoulder, every small concern melts away as you fuck this girl, both of you simply lost in the feel of each other and uncaring of the wider world beyond.
>Her rainbow locks stick to her skin, matted with sweat, as she fixes her eyes hungrily upon you.
>Holding tightly onto your shoulders, she picks up the pace, slamming onto your cock harder and faster than you ever thought possible.
>Your moans match hers in a song of primal sensuality as her vagina spams with the throes of orgasm, but she doesn't slow the pace.
>If anything, she speeds up a bit even more. Her eyes roll back into her head and her tongue is hanging out of her mouth.
>You're not much different. The strain on your neck is amazing as the sensations from her high-speed onslaught against your cock mount up to a building orgasm unlike any you've ever experienced.

>The floodgates are barely holding. The pressure is reaching critical levels. The volcano is about to fucking erupt.
>As if sensing it, she hops off you and reaches down, beating you off. You were so close; the change doesn't really stop it from happening.
>Three thick, gooey spurts of cum burst from your head, coating your stomach, reaching just under your chest.
>She watches, fascinated, still jerking you off until you stop and she's coaxed every last drop out of you.
>Letting go, she smiles and leans down to lick it all up. She makes a show of it, slowly dragging her tongue across your skin and moaning at the taste until she's completely cleaned it all up.
>Showing you her white-coated tongue, she closes her mouth and makes a slightly exaggerated swallowing motion, sticking her tongue out to show that none of the cum remains.
>She falls down on your chest, panting, her breathing matching your own.
>"Fuck..." she says, closing her eyes and smiling in pure joy as she basks in the afterglow. "That was fucking awesome, Corporal..."
>Your eyes open as she addresses you by title, bringing you back to reality.
>And what you just did.
>And what the Uniform Code of Military Justice would have to say about it.
>You swallow a sudden lump in your throat and close your eyes.
>"I know, right?" she says, smiling.
>You let out a sigh.
>Well, you've made your bed.
>Time to sleep in it.