Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: MusicNeverDies on 31-07-2008, 22:23:22</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>31-07-2008, 22:23:22</strong>
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				Trees shot by the car window. Small trees at random intervals, past them a large field, filled with obstacle courses and climbing walls. Behind it, a forest, with a few noticeable trails leading into it's depths. It seemed the tan Intrepid was reaching it's destination. A few minutes later the car turned into a stone parking lot, and Miranda Franz knew they had arrived. The entire trip was silent, Miranda fuming quietly, and her mother simply driving. Probably fuming as well, but hiding it superbly. Finally the silence was broken by Mrs. Franz <strong>"We're here Andy." </strong><br><br>Andy was an annoying little pet name her mother had developed from the -anda half of her name. <strong>"I know mom. Alright. Bye."</strong> Miranda had her licence. She had had it since she was 17, which was two years ago. The only reason her mom drove was because she was being dropped off and the car couldn't drive itself home. With a quick hand grabbing her bag and slamming the door behind her, Miranda was out. Her body was toned, athletic but not so much that she lost her femininity. Her form was lanky, tall for a female. Her hair was auburn. It was cut short, sharp side swept bangs lingering over her forehead. The longest strands fell to her jaw, flipping out slightly. The jaw line was stunning, bringing attention to her bright green eyes. She was very pretty. <br><br>But not dressed to show it. She was in military uniform, a Private. The outfit was ill fit for her slender waist and good sized breasts, but that could not be fixed. It took her only minutes to walk to the head office, to check in, get the rest of her supplies, have her bag checked. When everything was arranged she moved to her dorm, it was one of the further buildings, but that meant it was closer to the main field and trails. She was earlier then most of the people in her unit, two others were checked in, and she could see them walking towards the dorm in the distance. <br><br>With a sigh she repositioned the bag below her arm, and moved on, heading to the dorm that would be her home all summer. She was too old for this. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>31-07-2008, 23:33:44</strong>
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				<strong>“You think I’m not concerned?! You’re a moron, Elise. You’re arrogant.”</strong> Sergeant Jack Hall was a tempered man. His attitude was a personal scar, not just a professional habit. The man was standing in the central administration office, pressing a phone against his right ear. His tone of voice is rushed, aggravated and intense. He’d spent the past hour speaking to his ex-wife. Their marriage had been over for five years, but they had a child together; a son. Perhaps much to the sergeant’s dismay, because he never desired any offspring. She had made no demands from Jack, other than financial support. It wasn’t until recently that she’d started dating again and suddenly didn’t have time for the baby. Bitch was trying to pressure Jack into accepting the terms of mutual custody, in a meek attempt to force him to begin ‘taking responsibility’. It was all fine at first; he didn’t really have any problem with taking care of the kid from time to time. At least, that’s what he initially thought. He wasn’t a father. He was going to wait for a while before severing the custody, giving her everything. Now just wasn’t a good time. The man barely remembered what the current conversation was about, recognizing nothing but the stinging irritation in the back of his skull. It took another moment before he hung up. <em>I don’t have time for that greedy bitch.</em> <br><br>The man straightened his posture and repaired a few folds on his uniform before leaving the office building. His short hair was black, a fragment of his southern heritage. His facial lines didn’t share the same blood though, as they echoed of typical western breed. By any standards, he was a local. The one defining characteristic was obvious; strength. From his expression, to the rest of his body, it all echoed volatile cries of masculinity. The definition wasn’t absurd, but there was no denying that initial impression; <em>you don’t fuck with me</em>. He found his way to the instructor’s building with hardly an upward glance, giving the single officer present a brief nod before sitting down at his desk. It was his colleague, Marc Rodriguez. <strong>“Recruits still got thirty minutes, Jack. Some of them are gonna’ be late.”</strong> Jack gave the man a mute nod and allowed his eyes to sweep across the clock on the nearest wall. He hated these temporary moments of suspension, the only thing occupying his mind was that whore he’d been married to once. From what he’d gathered, she was still the same slut, dating a new man every other day. In blunt comparison, Jack hadn’t been in a relationship since. <br><br>He found outlet in his occupation, a practice that enveloped him and blocked everything else out. That’s not to say that he’s spent the past five years in abstinence, he’d found someone when he needed it. The minutes passed quickly. <strong>“Alright, let’s rattle the cage.”</strong> He rose to his feet, closely accompanied by his second in command as they left the building. The dorm wasn’t far away, and the two instructors stepped inside without a moment’s delay. The dorm was filled, an estimate of twenty recruits. Jack hadn’t bothered checking the charts to see who was really fresh; he found it so much easier to color them all green. Marc remained a step behind Jack, standing by his side. He gave a sharp nod, and Rodriguez cried out a request for attention that echoed through the room and voiced over everything else audible. The men and women present snapped to it, and rapidly formed two lines along the bunks. Jack’s posture was cold steel, not a single flaw obvious. <br><br>He began walking forward with methodical, rhythmic steps as he swept his eyes across the faces of the recruits. <strong>“Good morning, ladies! I am staff sergeant Hall. I’ll be your drill instructor for the coming weeks!”</strong> His smoky voice echoed through the silent room, a tone made raw and hoarse from years of abuse. <strong>“The man standing behind me is staff sergeant Rodriguez. When I am not present, you will receive your orders from him!”</strong> Jack stopped at one of the privates in the line, a woman. His hazel brown eyes fixed on hers only for a moment before they slid down to sweep across her nametag, subtly taking in her alluring features at the same time. <strong>“Private Franz!”</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 00:32:59</strong>
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				When she arrived two others were there. She claimed a top bunk, the one furthest back, closest to the bathroom and the other door leading into the private bed quarters that their Sergeant would use, if they proved too rowdy. From the looks of the two people already there, it wouldn't be a problem he or she was likely to run into. The pair were already straightening out their beds, one on top of the other. Miranda took this time to throw the blanket on and lay on her back. She chose the one furthest back because generally that person had a few extra seconds to prepare everything before the Sergeant's gaze found them. <br><br>More people came while she was on her bed lazily, her stuff thrown onto the bed below. Still in it's bag, but obviously not in it's proper location. The people coming seemed to follow the orderly fashion of the first two. God, what a drag this unit would be. She figured she would have to do some spicing up, make things exciting. The truth was, her father had been (and still was) a military man. She had done the spotless room, perfect bed, presenting oneself in the morning thing all her life. She was flawless in the matters, when she wanted to be. But things got dull after a long time. She only impressed when she really felt a need to. She doubted her Sergeant would make her long to impress. <br><br>When the heavy footfalls fell, silence followed. She knew, without looking, that the Sergeant had come. And from the sound of the silence he was intimidating enough. It wasn't until the cry for attention that she actually moved, literally rolling off her bed and landing on her feet. She had practise in that as well, it seemed. Already everyone was lined up, most held flawed posture, the back was too straight, to the point that prolonged attention would cause stiffness. Some held their feet too far apart. Every little flaw she noted. She herself even stood with half of them, just to see if it would be noticed. It would be, of course, her hand was in her pocket, her head cocked to the side slightly. One leg out further then the other, knee bent slightly. It was obviously wrong, so obvious that it was even more obvious she was faking the stupidity. <br><br>She watched. He was handsome enough. Older then her, but much younger then her father. Stern and astute. The most shocking of all, perhaps, was his walk. He was flawless. A real ability was possessed in that one, she would have to admit. Perhaps he could gain her respect, but not yet. When his hazel eyes met hers, she let the fires burn. In that small glance she passed off a warning, a message. An almost literal sign saying 'I plan to make you work so fucking hard you'll need to take a vacation.' When she responded her tone was nonchalant. "<strong>Sergeant Hall.</strong>" She extended a hand, cocky. She let it linger between them, knowing full well he wouldn't shake it. "<strong>Nice to meet ya," </strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 01:23:21</strong>
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				The man wasn’t oblivious to the glance she’d given him. He noted it, but ignored it. Jack was a veteran, and no stranger to disobedience. Something told him that this wasn’t just another clown, though. A second passed before he reminded himself not to be pretentious about the early behavior of the recruits. He had several weeks ahead of him, more than enough time to crack the comedian apart and take a close look at what’s hiding inside. His expression revealed none of these thoughts, though. Indeed, this man had an expression matching what the old Mongols called ‘the cold face’, a relentless ability to render himself superficially immune to whatever was happening around him. Just as Miranda spoke her last words, Jack leaned in closer, separating their faces by little more than an inch. He was close enough to catch her scent now, and he made a mental note to remember it before shouting her right in the face. <strong>“Private Franz, you will get on the floor and give me forty push-ups!”</strong> The sergeant watched her subtly, scouting for a flinch or a reflex. Just as he’d finished giving his order he turned away from her so as to face the rest of the recruits in the dorm. <br><br><strong>“Private Franz has volunteered to clean the latrine for the coming week!”</strong> Smiles emerged on the lips of a handful of the recruits. She would be spending a considerable amount of her evenings cleaning out the shower room and the toilets in the dorm.<strong> “Isn’t that right, private?!”</strong> He wanted her confirmation. The game was on. He didn’t want to give her an estimate so soon, but he was sure she’d suffer a moment of surrender sooner or later – everyone did. Yes, he was going to make her run like she’d never ran before, pressure her harder than any drill instructor ever had before. It was in his job description, after all. The man paused there for a moment before turning to face her again. His eyes swept across her body, naturally for the sake of assessing her physical condition. He struggled to maintain his objective view, but it was easy to admit that she was one of the more attractive recruits that had ever crossed through his dorms. <br><br>The fact that he’d have genuine power over the woman for quite some time came with a subtle thrill, but that’s how far he took those thoughts. He was there to make her life as miserable as he could manage, all while attempting to teach her values. Something told him that she was familiar with the usual bullshit, though. He did love the challenge she posed, and perhaps this was the outlet he needed, to relieve the stress built up by that damn child business.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 01:46:08</strong>
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				Miranda watched closely, looking for weakness, a flaw, a dent in the armour. Something no one new to this life could pick up, but she could. And with the proposition she presented she gave him more then enough to respond to. Would he internally laugh at it, would be be upset, would be think her a lesser being from then on, or a fun plaything. She watched, and to her own disappointment he didn't show his reaction. He kept his face unchanging and cold- it upset her. But she returned the favour, keeping her face hard as well. This could be a fun little dynamic she could create with this man. And he lent in. At that instant she could foresee the yelling about to take place right at her nasal passages. At least he wasn't one of those annoyingly flawed officers who yelled directly into the ear. that was stupid on so many levels. Firstly it could dwindle the senses after a while, making the recruit less aware of his or her surroundings. Second it just wasn't as intimidating. There was a certain power expelled when someone was yelling while harshly staring a person down. Only if eye contact was held, and she held it so strong. When he yelled she barely moved, she took it, her eyes still alive with ambition and defiance. The proximity between the two interested her- he was very closer. Closer then a normal officer would stand. But yet she did not complain, she liked it. The intimate closeness of the two seemed to foreshadow many instances like it to come. And she did not complain. He was good looking, respectable enough. But she would not flirt-not yet. She had to show her actual ability to him first, then she would flirt. <br><br>When he made his announcement about her cleaning the latrines she literally smiled. Smiled deeply and fully. He could not see, because it was behind his back, but she was genuinely happy with his actions. The true reason for that did not shine through though. Latrine duty was often done while the Sergeant yelled at the Private doing it. Meaning they would get some alone time, where she could further assess him. She let her face sober out before he turned around. But then he asked her to confirm it. He really was someone who knew what he was doing. This time he saw her smirk. The subtle shift in her weight. All eyes were on her, and she felt like it was about time. <br><br>She ran a hand through her hair first, then fell instantly forward, jumping back as she did so. With the backwards jump and loss of footing, her face went flying toward the floor. But it didn't connect. It was stopped an inch above by her hands at her side. She had gone into push-up position instantly, with style and grace. Even with a sort of flair. If it wasn't obvious before then, that would have made her experience shine like a lighthouse in the middle of the night. She looked up at him from her position, not yet starting. <strong>"Latrines for a week, gottcha. Can I just do these while you get through your little intimidation speech or are you not gonna trust my judgement and make everyone waste time by watching me and counting,<em>Sir</em>?" </strong> The sir was so snide, so full of amusement. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 02:17:25</strong>
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				Jack couldn’t afford to view his occupation from a comical viewpoint. In service, he was an iconic representation of the values that the military sought to inspire. In spite of that, Miranda did amuse him. He was one stern bastard, but he wasn’t emotionally blind. He knew that the private probably had the ability to turn the entire dorm population into a group of laughing, lazy buffoons. It probably wouldn’t take her long, due to the fact that she knew how to break the persistent and always present tension that filled the room every time the drill instructor was present. Her words echoed through the building, reaching every ear. The sergeant had such an exquisite array of tools to utilize against the rebel. He didn’t want to bring anything drastic upon her at such an early stage, but she was being so defiant. He wanted her to address him with the words she knew were correct, and then shut her mouth and fall in line. <br><br><strong>“Recruits! Because of Private Franz’s inappropriate sense of humor, you will all drop to the floor and hit thirty push-ups!”</strong> The man knew that some of the recruits would feel it; it didn’t take a trained eye to note that some of the people present weren’t in a proper physical condition. In the end, he didn’t blame them; they were here to get prepared. But it did help a lot in these situations. At such an early stage of the training, the recruits weren’t unified and he could easily turn all of them against one specific member. The military had such a grim history when it came to the consequences of collective punishment; he’d experienced it several times during his years. The recruits would decide that they had enough of the rebel, and stage some sort of degrading assault. Jack still had the worst case in fresh memory, a girl not entirely different from Miranda. She hadn’t been physically strong, but she had a fiery defiance, and she really didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. It happened just briefly before the camp training was over; the girl had been bagged over the head, tied down and raped over and over again. Yep, that was one hell of a scandal. <br><br>He was happy that hadn’t happened on his watch. At least, that’s what all the formal paperwork said. <strong>“Let this be your first lesson, crude insubordination will not be tolerated in this dorm!”</strong> His tone of voice hadn’t changed one bit since the first word he’d spoken. In many aspects, he was a well oiled machine that didn’t have any limits. A true product of the military institution. He didn’t like to attach those labels to himself, though. Jack wasn’t your everyday 'patriot' filled with a blind love for his country. His job was to beat a few basic concepts into the heads of civilians, and he was damned good at it. He was humble, but never in the beginning and even in the end he didn’t show a lot of it. <br><br>Most recruits ended up seeking to impress their instructors. That was good, because he wanted to fill them with a desire to progress. Miranda didn’t quite fit in though. He could faintly detect it in her tone, a superior familiarity with the practice he was carrying out. Again, none of this was on display. <strong>“I hope you’re all feeling limber, because Private Franz just doubled the distance you’re running this afternoon!”</strong> He quite enjoyed his job.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 03:11:11</strong>
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				She held position as her words echoed, a few recruits smirked. She noted them for future use. While he thought she stayed completely still, while her arms were bent holding her up. It was a tough position to hold, and she was doing so flawlessly. The curves of her well-worked arms shimmered in the dull lighting, showing not even traces of quivering, as most people holding the position would do. She really was something. And from what she had seen so far, Sergeant Hall really was something as well. She stayed cold. It was instantly obvious she didn't mind taking punishment, that she could handle it, that she <em>wanted</em> to be pushed to and past her breaking point. Only then would she really listen to the man. <br><br>Already he was taking it out on the entire unit. Her eyes glistened again, for a second losing the fire. They held strength, but altered slightly. She did not lose her defiance, but something was hit inside of her. Group punishment. That was her weakness, and he would find that out soon enough. Perhaps he had already seen that, perhaps he knew that although she was here to push the boundaries and the limits, she didn't want to punish the cadets along for the ride. They didn't deserve it. Only people at his level or higher really deserved the disrespect from her. She could feel the glare of so many of her comrades, people who would probably reject her now out of bitterness. But they moved fast. In the future she would be sure to try and shift it back to solitary punishment before the group began her punishment. <br><br>When she spoke again her voice was militarized. Professional and matching his own in dictation. It flowed effortlessly from her lips, with practise. Now she was playing his game. For now at least. <strong>"Requesting permission to apologize to my comrades, Sir!"</strong> Perfect in wording, in phrasing, in request itself. As she waited for a response she began to do her push ups, with perfect form and the fastest speed in the room. She counted quietly to herself. Only the private to her side, and Hall himself would hear her counting off. She did forty, finishing a little ahead of the few people who were doing well enough. Then she stopped for a second, and started again, she had finished her personal forty, and was going on to do the thirty owed by the general populous as well.&nbsp; <br><br>Even as she exemplified the perfect soldier, there was a defiance to her ever move. When her eyes did look up, they held the fire. An officer couldn't really punish a recruit for their gaze, not without seeming to be punishing for the sake of punishment. It was clear that this was not over- not in the least. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 03:46:23</strong>
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				Jack was pleased to see that the girl had the intelligence to justify her attitude. She knew just what kind of game he was playing, and how easy it was for him to hold her accountable for whatever the group would put her through if he continued. The sergeant knew that in the short run, this wouldn’t break her down. No, it was more a leash of sorts. He was going to wait a while before using the instrument of collective punishment again. There was no genuine challenge in it. Jack found himself longing for the moment where he’d be able to really test her physical limits, knowing that the grace and strength she was displaying now meant little. He wasn’t oblivious to the perfect execution, though, and any other private would’ve received a vague compliment. The man recognized the temporary victory, he even relished in it. They both knew that this was a conditional surrender, but the rest of the group didn’t.<br><br>Perhaps she didn’t care about how she appeared to the rest of the unit, but he hoped that she did. He spun around to face the private again, his eyes taking in the full agility of her lithe body, the arched positions of the sit-up revealing more of the features that the uniform didn’t wholly manage to conceal. Had she worded her request in any different manner, he would’ve asked her to repeat it. It was all flawless, and his acceptance was quickly presented. <strong>“Permission granted, Private!”</strong> Of course he’d give her a chance to redeem herself. Any recruit had a fair chance to get in his good graces, so long as they submitted to his will. <strong>“Recruits, get up and fall in line!”</strong> Jack didn’t have the patience to wait for the stragglers. <br><br>The others didn’t really matter; Miranda was the target of the exercise. Besides, they’d wasted enough time to distort the schedule he’d developed for the day, and he hated that. The man built his daily occupational life on routines, and the last thing he needed was for some hot-headed recruit to come screw over his time-tables. A pair of seconds passed before the recruits had restored a fraction of the two lines they’d neatly established just moments before. He sure wasn’t done with her yet, absolutely not. She knew it, too. Her entailing behavior would be helpful when he’d decide whether or not he’d keep her out running with him all night long. <br><br>The forecast was for heavy rain and he knew just what path to take, a wet and muddy route that was deep enough to swallow your entire boots if you allowed your feet a moment’s rest. No, he wouldn’t take the entire unit out on that trip. It would just be him and her. For now, he kept his hallow glance fixed on her, expecting those sweet lips to exclaim an apology of outmost procedural correctness.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 04:04:44</strong>
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				Miranda, even while finishing up her extra push ups before some of the others, held her gaze. They were going to be a good pair, Franz and Hall. A nice dynamic she couldn't wait to exploit and investigate. He was interesting. More interesting then he should have been. She came with the intention of fucking with her Sergeant's mind by being flawless and at the same time the model of insubordination. That was enough to make a mental gap in anyone with less skill. But she had hit the jackpot, someone with real talent. Someone who she would have to work for. Someone who could really test her limits. Someone who she could see herself respecting, possibly even liking as a human being. Strong personalities were the only ones that worked with her, and he was one of the best she had seen.&nbsp; <br><br>He stopped them before some had finished. But those were the ones who had worked enough at their 23 push-ups to be broken by them. The stronger ones had fulfilled their full punishment, her full punishment, and they accepted him as an authority figure. He would be pleased about that. He would also be pleased that she wanted to apologize. He even stopped the workout and made a little spectacle of it. She couldn't really toy with her apology, because she owed it to the people. But she wouldn't be a complete robot about the matter either- the people would appreciate her talking in human. <br><br>She stood up quickly, instead of at attention she stood at ease. In that she gave him a faint slap in the face. He had expected attention, but never bluntly ordered it, and her at ease position was flawless. <strong>"I am apologizing now for my remarks that caused that little exercise. And in advance for the run, and any other possible group punishments in the future."</strong> A nice, solid remark. But she added a quick ending, her own little flair. Not nearly enough to be worth reprimand. <strong>"None of you have to clean the toilets for a week though, so I'm calling it even." </strong><br><br>At that she fell back in line, doing the proper step even for that, the formal step normally seen at flag raising ceremonies and demonstrations. It was a subtle line between being overly respectful for spite, and real discipline. She was showing him that regardless of that minuscule victory, they were still deep in the grounds of battle.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 04:41:38</strong>
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				The sergeant’s mind was a calculating machine that expertly noted every flaw it encountered. Miranda sure wasn’t a novice. It didn’t show, but Jack hated the little things she did. The attitude that never dissipated, but simply retreated to the background where it lingered. The feigned flaws in her stance, the deliberately misjudged request for attention. He saw everything, but he chose not to act on such petty remarks. He found the apology to be quite amusing, in particular the part where she mentioned future collective punishment. Everyone present knew that it would take more than that. She’d marked herself out in front of the entire group on the very first day, and nobody would be forgetting that any time soon. Sure, she tried to sell it by mentioning the latrine punishment, and perhaps they’d even go easy on her when they saw the girl on her knees in the shower room, scrubbing the floor. <br><br>He’d drop in to catch a sight of that himself, he was sure. The man gave her a lingering, challenging look before turning away from her again. His posture was still firm, flawless and solid as he paced down to the second drill instructor, turning again at his arrival to face the dorm population. <strong>“Listen up! Extensive physical commences in fifty minutes, report to the mess hall for breakfast detail!”</strong> A resounding ‘sir, yes sir’ was heard throughout the dorm. No doubt his easily incited will to punish had marked the recruits, and they’d think twice before acting up in the future. He was sure Miranda would recognize what was happening, as would anyone that was listening intently. He’d ordered them to go eat just prior to a heavy physical exercise. It was a cruel order, indeed. Most of the recruits would be happily plowing down a large meal, in what they would undoubtedly consider good preparation for the heavy trials of the day. <br><br>Because to anyone that had not yet realized, every exercise was going to be carried out with an intensity that would leave at least half of the recruit population losing their stomach content. He was sure Miranda would pass this first general trial without much care at all. As much as he’d love to begin frying her instantly, he still had the general majority of the recruits to worry about. Jack couldn’t hold back a brief, small smile as soon as he stepped out into the intense sunlight outside of the building, already longing for the evening that waited. <br><br>His second in command remained a moment longer to give the clarification that was a part of his job. <strong>“Exercise location will be the ransack trail, follow the signs!”</strong> Marc left the dorm to follow Jack, catching up with him. <strong>“I know that look on your face.” </strong> The tension between the two was relaxed, having worked together on the base for a few years. <strong>“There’s no look on my face, Rodriguez.”</strong> Jack idly replied. <strong>“No, but I know what you’re thinking.”</strong> And to that there wasn’t a comment to be heard, the growing smile on Jack’s face would be a sufficient answer in any case.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 04:59:10</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She had set a personal best today, collective punishment in less then five minutes. Hall had the entire platoon shaking and worried, thinking him to be the big bad wolf of officers. He wasn't. He was no more harsh then anyone doing his job properly. He had only responded to direct disrespect, and done so quickly and with a proper level of punishment. He was a good officer, and they were all thinking of him as some sort of God sent to keep them in line. In a way he was, to them, but Miranda was not a religious being. <br><br>Miranda chuckled. He told the entire unit that harsh workout would follow, and yet they seemed to salivate at the prospect of eating a nice big company breakfast. Not Miranda. She said 'Sir, yes sir' with everyone, but very little heart, simply letting that go because it wasn't anything big. Once Hall was gone she got a few glares, two boys (neither of whom had done the whole 30 push ups, by her count) gave her a thumbs up. A few seemed perplexed by her, and she let that continue. The entire platoon moved out, breaking rank to just converse amongst themselves as they left for the mess hall. <br><br>Miranda ate before she got in the car. That was a full 45 minutes prior, plus the 50 minute period between now and the start of the drill. Had Hall been watching the dorms, as she was sure he would be, he would notice a distinct lack of her presence in the exiting mob. But soon after the group blurred with others making their way to eat. The first day of new recruits always had a nice bonding breakfast, before wanting to kill themselves an hour later. Miranda climbed onto her bed and laid down. She had brought a book, Animal Farm. She actually began to read, practically finishing the small work by the time 20 minutes had passed.<br><br>Then she finally left the building, moving toward the fields instead of the mess hall. She found the Ransack trail with 25 minutes to spend. She sat down on the ground next to the trails entrance, watching the lingering parties at the Mess Hall, as she began to stretch, her slim body bending over itself as she spread her legs against the hard grass and pulled at her toes with her fingers. Another thing they would all forget to do was stretch. In addition, she figured she might get some alone time with Hall, since he would probably come, trying to be the first. She took a personal victory in being here before him as well, in denying him that glare he surely wanted to give as the recruits made their way to him. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 05:32:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sergeant kept a close eye on the rebel. From the instructor’s building, he was able to note that she never left the dorm. She was undoubtedly going to make his job so much more interesting over the coming weeks. He was delighted to see that the majority of the recruits had hopped on over to the mess hall to enjoy a healthy breakfast. Just as Miranda had assumed, Jack had left the office in advance, desiring to be the first on site. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see her there, waiting. Alright, she was making an impression, but anyone could do that on the first day. Besides, he didn’t let any of it show. He approached her with the same steady posture as always, and his lips parted to exclaim an order before he’d even arrived. <strong>“Attention, Private!”</strong> His tone was decisively lower in volume. <br><br>He knew he wasn’t going to affect the woman by screaming at her, they were far beyond that now. He didn’t stop until he’d reached the same intimate proximity they’d shared for a brief moment in the dorm. <strong>“You will not move.”</strong> The man paused there for a moment, fixing his glance deep in her eyes, before walking past her. He stopped after a few paces and lifted his right boot to support it on a high rock as he refreshed the lacing, repeating the act with his left boot. She’d won what she wanted, but he wasn’t going to let her relish in the moment. He spun around to face Miranda again, crossing his arms at his chest as he let his eyes change between assuring that she held her posture and that the recruits were making an approach. The man glanced down at his watch, finding to his dismay that another ten minutes still remained before the recruits would all be here. <br><br>And it wasn’t very likely that they’d trickle in one by one, seeing as they’d all somehow instantly grouped up. It wasn’t very common, but he supposed he only had himself to blame. He was going to run them all through a fairly simple track that had a multitude of directions to offer a grand array of distances. The distance accounted to a total of ten miles, and he didn’t estimate more than five of them to be able to keep up the pace the entire run. The rest of them would straggle behind, left to their own contemplations. They’d come around. In truth, it wasn’t very ethical but Miranda was pushing it. The sergeant raised his head just a bit, eyes scouting across the sky in search of that storm front. It was there, in the distance, approaching slowly. <strong>“Looks like it’s going to be a rainy night, Private.”</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 05:47:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She watched the figure come at her direction. It was obviously Sergeant Hall making his way there, trying to be first and to one-up her. But failing miserably, and that kept the grin on her face strong. What was military camp without the devious antics and power struggle with someone so obviously above yourself in rank. It was dull. But this camp. No. This camp would be an astounding battlefield. She wondered how many recruits she could get to play along. If she had them she would win. At present he had them with fear, but if she could change that... It would be a revolution. More then enough to knock him into showing emotion. <br><br>She was fine with holding her posture, she took in the closeness of his face again. The scent of him. Clean, well maintained. A little touch of sweat, nothing serious. From their proximity she got a nice view. His eyes were so interesting to her. She adored the moment while it lasted. He had already adopted a new voice quality for her. Already she was altering how he handled a Private. It was more then she could have asked for, someone so eager to get in the game and make his moves. She almost rewarded him by following his orders, but she did not. She stood and moved into a lunge, her fingers locked together behind her back, stretching her shoulder blades firmly while working her legs with the lunge. <br><br>She looked up when he spoke, gazing into the sky and watching the storm front. It was a good while away. She didn't know how far he was going to push them today, there was a possibility they could be running right during that front, but she doubted it. It would be borderline unethical to push some of the green Privates that hard that fast. If it did occur, she was certain she would get the blame for it. She was also certain it would be a justified blame. <br><br>Her eyes drifted back down as she changed sides, stretching the other leg now, looking at him eagerly. He had tossed the ball up, and now it was in her court. But it was not time to bash it down at his head, not during their first solo meeting. That would come later. She resigned herself to a small chuckle.<strong> "Good thing I'm going to be in the latrines cleaning, isn't it?" </strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 06:18:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack adhered to the same moral code of conduct as the rest of the instruction group present on the base. He always had an iron grip around the units assigned to him, and he never made any mistakes. In the end, there would come a time where the unit would be unified enough to resist. He tolerated that fact, but it always came with a high price. Jack was renowned because he aspired to push to limits that meant a risk. He wasn’t afraid of adding weight to the back of the recruits in spite of the fact that it would test him as well. Besides, Miranda wouldn’t trigger any rebellion. She knew better than to do that. She’d be transferred to another group and if the behavior continued, she’d have to coax up some good connections to even stay on the base. Insubordination was expected to some degree, but when it broke the boundaries of acceptance, punishment became futile when the option of discharge was so much easier. <br><br>Jack wasn’t exactly pondering over whether or not Miranda would have to be transferred, but he admitted the risks based on the assumptions he’d been able to justify so far. In the distance, he could see the first batch of recruits come walking. <strong>“You’ll be taking the high trail with me tonight, and don’t worry; the latrines will still be there when you get back, Private.”</strong> That’s all the assurance he had time to give her before the first recruits came within audible range. Jack glared out across the heap and barked out an order without hesitation, assuming the usual tone. <strong>“Why are you walking, recruits?! Get over here right now, shitbirds!”</strong> He took a step back from Miranda, turning to face her instead. <strong>“I want a straight fucking line, right next to Private Franz!”</strong> <br><br>The recruits were brought to a high pace and within a few seconds they had begun lining up in an orderly fashion. Jack waited another minute for the last heap to arrive before speaking again. <strong>“As you all know, this little picnic is the extended courtesy of our own Private Franz! For every recruit that makes it to the finish line with my pace, your morning sleep tomorrow will be extended by a full hour!”</strong> These words naturally caused a group of subtle smiles to emerge, in spite of the fact that they didn’t even know the distance yet. He wasn’t going to tell them, either. He sharply raised his arm toward the start of the trail. <br><br><strong>“What the hell are you waiting for?! Get to it, recruits!”</strong> Jack waited for a moment, preferring to wait for the recruits to start moving before he did. His eyes were fixed on Miranda, and the challenge was obvious. <strong>“Ladies first, Private Franz.”</strong> He was not going to take no for an answer, if that ass wasn’t on the move in the next five seconds he’d maul her face in the mud and send her to the brig.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 06:35:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Miranda didn't even worry about discharge. It had become almost painfully obvious to her that Sergeant Hall saw her as his own personal challenge this summer. He wouldn't discharge her because the satisfaction he'd get when he broke her in would be too strong to resist. That was of course since he assumed that he would break her in. She was not so sure on the entire matter. He was good, but so was she. Despite the ranks between them, this would be a true struggle for dominance. <br><br>Somehow, his comment kept the smirk on her face. He wanted a midnight run with her. She would see how much he pushed today, and expect the same if not more for the night. But that trip would be solo. Private runs were rare for the first night, even the first three or four days. She really was speeding this game right into play. And he took in every step. She could almost picture them running together, side by side, trying to gain dominance over the other by getting a step ahead. All the while their damp clothing would cling to them. It was almost like something right out of a porno. She wondered if it would have the same ending- and firmly doubted it. <strong>"I don't want to wake everyone up at 3 am with my brushing- plus it looks to be a slow moving front, you'll want to wait until the ground is nice and wet, I'm assuming." </strong><br><br>At Hall's words she actually took note, standing a little more in formation, a little more respectful. It seemed he didn't want the recruits to hate her. She would certainly be one that could keep up, and so she could be one who would extend the morning sleep, probably enough that they would all be forgiving of the mere 30 pushups. At his words the left side of her lips rose, smirking she took off, marching past him, close enough to breathe on his shoulder as she made her way into the trail. The soldiers behind her did not pass to close, they veered off slightly, giving him a more firm perimeter before following. She started at a moderate jog, knowing he would catch up to make the front and set the pace he wanted. For now she held it at a solid pace, unsure how well the people behind her would hold. For her it was a cakewalk. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 07:23:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack certainly wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he’d introduced a very high pace to the game. Perhaps it wasn’t the right decision; he knew that he risked tearing the new recruits to pieces by starting it so early. He made a mental note to clarify that Miranda was the culprit and the enemy. He was a relentless bastard when he wanted to be, and right now he wouldn’t mind introducing enough collective punishment to blast her into solitude. The man was happy to see that she wasn’t completely devoid of compliance. He barely felt the inciting touch of her breath against his exposed neck, but his eyes remained fixed on her and he followed her figure as she started on the trail. <br><br>She was intense and sexy, that raw untamed attitude only serving to slowly fill him with an unspecified urge to show the girl her place. He pushed that trail of thoughts out of his mind and allowed a final glare across his shoulder to make sure that there weren’t any stragglers from the mess hall. Jack started out with a calm pace that was fast enough to bring him to the front of the unit. He blatantly ignored Miranda, and it was easy to exclude singing from this run. The man felt his breathing technique instinctively kick into motion, and he slowly began to raise the pace. He knew he didn’t have to worry about her, she’d stay by his side like the persistent rebel she was. It didn’t take long before it all became a running pace, one that required raw physical stamina. He allowed it to continue for a few minutes before throwing a quick glance across his shoulder to confirm that the majority of the group had fallen behind. <br><br>Aside from himself and Miranda, six other recruits still fought. It was easy to tell from their violently escalating breathing that barely none of them would make it. He felt a stinging urge to really get the party going, but this wasn’t about Miranda. A bit sanctimonious, he thought to himself, but he didn’t want to lower the pace now. Twenty minutes into the run, three recruits were still fighting. The sergeant maintained the breathing rhythm of an Olympic runner and the pace remained high.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 07:44:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She ran easily, not looking back, breathing deep and slow, pacing herself like the professional that she was. It didn't take long for him to pass the others and join her at the head of the group. She ran in stride with him, and matched his breathing. She was not sure if it was a habit, or if it was because his breathing techniques were just as well versed as her own. Either way she realized that for this run at least, the two would stay side by side, stubborn and unflinching as they were. The recruits would hate her for it. For being so damned talented and yet talking back like she did. But she would make up for it by giving them an extra hour of sleep. Unless he didn't keep his word- but she knew he would. Once a reward was offered it had to be given, otherwise the troop saw no reason to excel at any moment, knowing reward was a lie. <br><br>She only looked back when he did, noting the changes in intervals. She realized they were running, and she was sweating a little. Not enough that it was an annoyance, or even a real threat to her little show of strength. She did sometimes look over at him though. At the way his toned arms moved in a fluid motion with his body. Her footfalls matched his, literally miming his movements and breathing. She could see the masculine frame whenever the material flung back against his torso. His short hair didn't move much, hers did, but not into her eyes or face. She almost felt like they were alone already. Matching styles and pace, like two people who had spent years together running, they almost moved as one. <br><br>She looked over her shoulder. Only two remained in close proximity, a third trailed a little behind, followed closely by an exhausted looking fourth who must have sprinted to see where in the standings he was. All of them were taking high breaths, improper breaths. She could almost see the stomach of one of the boys rumble and fight to explode. She wondered if any one had yet vomited from the big breakfast. After a little while more of running, the third and fourth had vanished, the gap steadily growing between the unit that was Hall and Franz, and the fastest of the others.<strong> "If you want a real run save it until tonight- If you run out of sight everyone will give up and walk, which I'm pretty sure will fuck up your schedule for any post-run torture. But hey, you could just keep taking your anger about me out on everyone. They'll turn on me, but if you push them too hard they'll turn on you too, and guess who they'll turn <em>to</em>.</strong>" She spoke quietly, so only he could hear her. She used her breath well while talking. And even while sounding cocky and full of herself, there were two things in that. Wisdom, in that she was right about the troop giving up once he would too far out of sight. And also a challenge, save the real run for tonight. She made it known she was looking foward to tonight, to a real challenge. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 15:33:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack didn’t give the recruits any more attention during the run. The distance they had started was far greater than he had intended at the start of the day, but it didn’t matter. They would all remember this run and some of them in particular because people always got lost along this trail. It wasn’t dangerous, finding the base again was easy. Besides, he didn’t need to justify what he put them through. The ideal recruit would be running beside him at least half of the way before the training weeks were over. All of them were going to learn how to run, that much was for sure. Yes, he was going to run them. It was an important battlefield skill after all, the ability to run like hell. <strong>“Private Franz! You will not fucking speak unless told to do so, do you understand?!”</strong> He barked at her with the same tone of voice he always had (not the one reserved for her), and there wasn’t more than a slight sign of strain audible. <br><br>She was partly correct, but he wasn’t afraid of that scenario. Any recruit could be cocky and they could all be unified when they were close enough to a hot bed and running water, but when he took that away from them and threw them all into the field to live like a pack of starving wolves for a week, a lot of things changed. Her words did make him glance across his shoulder an additional time, though. <strong>“Run, you pathetic shitbirds! Stakes are raised, one recruit means two additional hours of sleep!”</strong> He was happy to see that a smaller group of three wasn’t all too far behind and two were still following Miranda and himself. He was presenting them with a golden opportunity, but they would have to fight like animals to get it. <br><br>Yes, Miranda would be one of the few giving them the additional hours and it would undoubtedly serve to repair her stature in the dorm. That stature could be easily fractured again, though. Miranda affirmed his suspicion that she was indeed looking forward to the evening. He was sure they’d be making camp records for the high trail, as if they weren’t doing that right now. Jack allowed her a moment’s glance, reading her breathing and posture, finding it to be flawless. Good, he thought.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 15:53:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smirked at his retort. It wasn't just speak that he said. He slipped a fucking in there. Either she was actually working him the near the end of his rope, or he had issues going on outside of their little game. She would bet on the latter, because he was holding too strong in terms of themselves. She began to wonder what his life was like. With a glance she noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger, single. Divorced or too involved in his job? Divorced because he was too involved in his job? Did he had a girlfriend? He was handsome enough to, but somehow she just didn't feel like he did. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on her for a fraction of a second longer. <strong>"What about when I'm asking for permission to speak, Sir?"</strong><br><br>And he raised the stakes. He didn't drop down at all, he held firm. He just made the prize all that more attainable. She had to applaud that. It meant less time tomorrow to work. Or perhaps more time for him and her tonight, she wasn't sure what he was shooting at. He was just making the recruits learn that exemplary endurance was met with rewards. But she would try to knock that down from the pedestal as well. She would be the most exemplary physically, and then bash the curve down in terms of discipline. He would have a hard time punishing her while she continued to exceed. She knew the dynamics between her and her group would be fractured. She knew she had to fix that. She looked back, and when she spoke this time it was different. It was marred with physical exhaustion. Even behind that facade though, from Hall's proximity he could tell she was still breathing fine. <strong>"Come on- guys!"</strong> A pause, enough for any rookie to gasp for a high breath. <strong>"We can do this!"</strong> Then she turned to face front again, her breathing becoming flawless again as she ran in stride, her lips curved in a satisfied smirk. <br><br>She saw his eyes move to her. It took in her breathing, her pacing, and her form. All of which she knew was flawless. Any other fresh recruit would get praise for it. But he held his tongue. He would not give her any form of reward or praise. Because he knew she didn't need it. She would like it, but in their game why would he give her that edge. She figured that in order to get a real praise from him sometime, she would have to be a proper soldier. To obey without the defiance in her eyes. She didn't know if she could do that. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 17:29:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack wasn’t losing control; he knew very well what he was doing. Miranda wasn’t your usual comedian, but he wasn’t afraid that she’d attain the upper hand. She would undoubtedly try, but he would be there to beat her down. The man would’ve loved being able to lay his hands on her, if only to beat her raw and then watch her slouch back in line. She wasn’t unique because of that, though. Hell, most of the recruits managed to really piss him off once in a while, it was still just another part of his job. He reminded himself that he’d be teaching this unit their basic hand-to-hand combat, and he was sure that’d lead to a multitude of amusing situations. He didn’t doubt she could handle a fight, but he was almost sure his urge to press her down below him was stronger. Would he call her to a private fight? Jack was sure she wouldn’t have anything against throwing all of the rules aside for an evening brawl in the gymnasium. He didn’t usually take things that far, but with Miranda it was almost a given. <strong>“I told you to shut up, Private!”</strong> Yes, he didn’t want her to say a single word until she was ordered to speak. He could almost be sure that she’d violate that, though, and automatically give him ample reason to punish her. <br><br>The rest of the run continued without any unexpected events. Aside from Miranda and Jack, one additional recruit made it. The sergeant wiped some of the sweat away from his brow and glared at the two. His eyes swept down the trail, but he didn’t see anyone. A quick glance to his watch confirmed that he wouldn’t be allowing any more hours to be won. <strong>“Form a straight line, recruits.”</strong> It didn’t take long for his panting breath to be reduced to a calm pace again. He swept his eyes across Miranda and the recruit, pausing his gaze on her for a brief moment. It was somewhat of a meaningful glance, commuting nothing but the message; <em>you just wait</em>. <br><br>A full silent ten minutes passed before the first batch of recruits came panting like a bunch of wild dogs. He knew that they wouldn’t be waiting for anyone else, as the rest of the unit would be very far down the trail. They all immediately got in the line, doing their best to force their breathing to a steady pace. <strong>“Congratulations, ladies! You have accumulated a full four hours of morning sleep!”</strong> He waited there for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before speaking again. <strong>“This concludes our first physical rundown! Report back to housing and await further instructions, understood?!”</strong> The sergeant was met with a weak orchestra of ‘sir, yes sir’ spoken out of turn and with no ambition at all. At least, that’s what he thought, ignoring the fact that they were all tired enough to lie down and die. <br><br><strong>“I did not hear you, recruits!”</strong> The response he received this time was stronger, and he was content. <strong>“Get a move on! Go, go, go!”</strong> And with that, the recruits mustered up enough energy to start the walk back to the dorm. He gave Miranda a prolonged glare, and once again the message was clear; <em>I’ll be seeing you tonight.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 18:06:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The rest of their run was silent, the tension between the two was sharper then their tongues. They had already gotten that connection one only has after weeks of hard competition. Had she not been running, she may likely have bounced up and down in sheer delight at the prospects it held. She hadn't even thought about hand-to-hand combat. But if it did cross her mind she'd have been excited. He would have the upper hand, being physically stronger because of his gender and hight. But the closeness. The intimacy and sheer eroticism of fighting with someone like that. If only they could go that tonight, in the mud and the rain. <br><br>Miranda stopped once they exited, wiping the sweat from her face and then putting her bangs back into place. They clung to her forehead a little. She offered a bright smile to the other Private who finished with her, taking note of who he was. He would probably end up being the units star pupil, and she would take satisfaction in besting him at everything regardless of that fact. But none of that maliciousness found it's way into her smirk. <br><br>She stood lazily, waiting and watching the storm front move in as the others finally arrived. She did not answer when he asked. She didn't think he noticed, but she was distinctly refusing to speak now, just to spite his earlier command. The look in his eyes was met with her own,&nbsp; a strong <em>Bring it on</em>. She held it, so long that the others had begun there walk and it was only the two in the area. Her lips curved into a smirk, and she winked. She bluntly winked at him, and then ran off, jogging towards the dorms, showing her endurance was still high, spitting in the face of his punishment. <br><br>She was the first to arrive at the dorm and she went right to her bunk. She climbed on a went to sleep, knowing that tonight would be a big show for the pair, and that she had to be rested. Before she could pass out others began to arrive, talking amongst themselves. The only reason she had not yet fallen asleep was that her mind was too full of the fun she had already had. Eventually though, she let her body get some rest she knew she would need in the coming hours. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 19:00:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack spent the rest of the day in the instructor’s office going through recruit charts. It was something he’d forgotten that morning, due to the phone call with his ex-wife. He knew he should be spending the time he had resting, but the work needed to be done. Besides, he wanted to still his curiosity about Miranda, and the files he had access to were quite extensive. Jack intimately read through the file, absorbing the details, before deciding to throw it aside and keep the girl off his mind for a while. Rodriguez joined him in the office after a while, and the two shared casual conversation about everything from low wages to big guns, just to waste some time. Just as the last sunlight was dissipating across the horizon, tinting the skies with a myriad of unusual colors, he left the instructor’s building to head over to Miranda’s dorm. The rain had already started, but thus far it was a pale shadow of what was lurking a few kilometers away. <br><br>By the time he reached the dorm, his black hair was almost soaked, but the uniform persisted for a while longer. The man slid a hand through his hair before pushing the dorm door open and heading inside. A few of the recruits were still out on the base, loitering and enjoying a late dinner, so the building was far from crowded. At least, that’s the impression you got. Most of the recruits were actually there, enveloped in deep sleep caused by the exhaustion from the run earlier during the day. Barely any of them noticed his entry, and just a pair of them rose to attention in spite of the fact that he hadn’t ordered it. They were rookies, the bunch of them. He paced over to Miranda’s bunk. <strong>“Good evening, Private Franz.”</strong> His voice was stern and cold, hard. Of course he wasn’t screaming. <br><br><strong>“You’re coming with me.”</strong> She needed no clarification; they both knew what this was about. He didn’t wait for her reply, instead he simply spun around again and headed out the exit. The walk over to the longest and most filthy trail on the camp didn’t take long. It didn’t really have any formal name; it was simply dubbed the ‘high trail’. Naturally, it did have a lot of nicknames. Colorful labels given through the years. Jack didn’t mind those though, he’d conquered the trail on numerous occasions and was never afraid to do so again. Yes, this was a very painful trail, it was horrible. He wasn’t even entirely sure it’d be right to call it a ‘trail’, it was a muddy path wide enough for the both of them to run beside each other, but it lacked the gravel foundation the rest of the trails had. <br><br>It was nothing but soft dirt and if you added the right amount of rain, it was a muddy hell-hole. The very entrance to the trail filled you with bright prospects, an almost seventy-degree angle hill that had the pattern of a slithering snake for an entire of two kilometers. He paused there at the start of the hill, turning around to face her. <strong>“Private Franz…”</strong> The comedy in his tone was obvious. <strong>“… you look tired. Are you tired, soldier?”</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 19:18:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had slept most of the day. A few times she woke up and began to read. When the rain first started she say up on her bed, watching out the window. A sort of gloom came from her at that moment. But two Privates had woken up, and began playing cards. She let her demeanour turn back to normal and then laid down again, reading about the expulsion of Snowball. Then she laid back to sleep, but she did not sleep. Thoughts and ideas plagued her mind. Her concentration was shattered, but she remained still on the bed, conscious but at a glance would appear sleep. <br><br>At the heavy footfalls she gained instant awareness, her eyes opened, and she stayed still. She wanted to see how he would approach her about this entire thing. He was using his Miranda voice again, it was more more intimidating then the yelling, but it still didn't set her on edge at all. She rather liked the husky quality of his voice, done from years of yelling. It had an appeal to it that only a military brat could understand. And she did understand the appeal, very firmly. <br><br>She didn't verbally respond when he called upon her, only slid her feet off the side of the bed and jumped down to follow him in stride. The few conscious Privates quirked a brow, and returned to their game quickly. As soon as the door shut she knew they would divulge into hushed gossip. She ran her hand through her hair, pushing the bangs back to blend with the rest of her hair, and letting the rain hit. She wanted to rain to hold her hair out of her face, so she was letting that happen. The uniform held better, but it would be a mess by the end of the run. <br><br>Her gaze looked over the trail. He was really laying it on her. She couldn't help but grin at that. The trail looked astounding. A nice challenge, and so soon. The rain would make the entire event memorable, if survivable. She walked forward, standing in line with him before stretching her arms out to the side lazily. <strong>"Ripped and ready to go, actually. You should learn how to tell when your soldiers are tired compared to excited, Sergeant. Could save you some lawsuits in the future."</strong> She shrugged casually, her shoulder blades forming small circles as she shrugged, stretching themselves as well. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 20:02:12</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The sergeant kept his eyes locked on the private as she spoke, and he was quick to reply. “<strong>You should learn how to tell when comedy is appropriate.”</strong> Jack paused there for a moment before continuing his reply. The man was indeed using his ‘Miranda voice’. If he should ever find out that she was calling it that, he’d award her with a hard fist right across her face. At least, that’s how he felt about her at the moment. She was a rising challenge, a stinging annoyance filling him with an urge to push her down, equal to her desire to screw him over. It was all bordering on to something different, though, something he wasn’t able to identify. As usual, he didn’t give those thoughts any more attention, still firm in his belief that she was just a special clown that needed special treatment. <br><br><strong>“That’s why we’re here out here, Private Franz, to teach you to keep your mouth shut.”</strong> The man didn’t care for any more conversation. He turned to face the trail, and awarded the encroaching storm another glance. It wouldn’t be long before the rain would violently intensify. <strong>“Keep up, soldier!”</strong> The man didn’t prolong the wait another second before starting a rather immediate pace; it was a necessary build-up to take on the start of the first muddy hill. If they would have waited just a little longer, the hill would have been completely inaccessible without rope. That was, unless you wanted to dig your fingernails into the mud and crawl up, but even that was a featless act. This trail wasn’t harsh, it didn’t allow you to begin with a slow pace and prepare your body for a higher intensity. <br><br>It began by drenching the traveler in hardship, even the first hill required you to lean forward and grab the nearest root with your hands to pull yourself up. The slithering start of the high trail was only the beginning, though. Jack kicked his toes in hard with every step to solidify his advance up the hill. In any normal case, he would’ve stayed in the middle of the path to block the progress of the recruit, but he was going to let Miranda loose with dignity. After only a few minutes in the hill, his knees were soaked in the loose mud and his hands were drenched in it. A different breathing technique was necessary here, one that allowed for unregulated and sudden bursts of energy to make small jumps as you advanced higher up.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 20:18:02</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				After his first statement she chuckled. <strong>"Maybe you should learn to take a joke, tightass."</strong> but he was rushing up the hill already. He probably hadn't heard her, but she couldn't be sure. She shook her head a little and bolted after him, catching up to his side and making her way up the beginning of the slope. It was a challenge, she knew that from sight. From the scent of slick mud beneath her. He was going to push her hard- heck it'd even push himself hard. In this she was not only being trained, but improving him. She wouldn't let that go into the tally though. For all intents and purposes they only acted calmly to the other out of spite. In her opinion at least. <br><br>Instantly the trail was a pure joy. Difficult, obviously, but in it's effort was it's appeal. The trail was like her, it came quick and fast, giving only minute plateaus for footing before it climbed up again at a steep angle. She was a little behind Jack, watching him work. She began to adopt his style, gripping the roots and making her feet dig deeper. Her hands grew slick with rain and mud. It did not take long for her to match his pace, join him at his side. A few times she even pushed forward and jumped ahead of him. He would catch up. But she kept doing it, not using too much energy, but trying to gain the occasional point against him. <br><br>She could see a peak nearing them where the hill either evened out or declined again. She hoped that they way down would be less steep then this. She could easily slide down in muck like this, but she doubted he would let her do that. He'd probably make her walk down the entire thing, climbing up to start over should she fail. It seemed like the tightass thing to do. She still had energy, but from the sound of Hall she figured he would win this round. That didn't mean she wouldn't go down without a fight. And it sure as hell didn't mean she was going to forfeit, or be weak, or let him known. She was known to push herself past her limits, with no regard for her own safety. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 21:07:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				A distinctive crack entailed a sudden flash in a not too distant horizon. The storm was coming closer with each passing minute and now the rain was strong enough to cause some of the mud to begin flowing down the steep hill. They would have to increase their pace if they wanted to make it all the way up. Jack had heard Miranda’s last comment, and it had caused a smirk to play across his lips. It had only lasted for a second, before he suppressed it. She wouldn’t have noticed it. The man did have a sense of humor, but he also had an ability to turn it all off. It was a necessity, for his work. Miranda’s persistence got to him, and she knew it. As soon as he noticed that she had begun her teasing advances, he had immediately heightened the pace to pass her. They both knew it wasn’t going to stop, and that was a dangerous fact. <br><br>This was how it all started, Jack desiring to keep the front, Miranda consistently pushing him to increase the speed. It wouldn’t be long before they’d both be sprinting like animals. Would it be long before they both surrendered their facades and started spending all of their energy solely to beat their opponent? He was prepared to go that far, and beyond it. In the end, if he should win, this would still be one whole victory for him, but only half a surrender for her. After all, she was alone out here, the rest of the unit wasn’t there to see her defeat, and if she so desired she wouldn’t even have to talk it through with the dorm when she got back. <br><br>That would be a clear sign of her defeat, though. Jack knew they wouldn’t blame her for anything; she’d given them all four hours of extra sleep. Sure, the other recruit had played a big part but the only reason he even made the deal to begin with was because of her. As soon as they made it over the wet hill, they were faced with a trail that headed off into a thick, lush forest. The path was intense, and you’d be pressured to find just one piece of flat ground. That is, if you wanted to call it ground. It was so soft that if your steps were too heavy, you’d sink in deep. <br><br>Jack didn’t pause for a second as he made it across the first ridge and started on the path with a decisively higher pace than before. This path was not as wide as the slope had been, and if she wanted to hold an even rate, they’d have to press against each other as they ran. Jack could hear heightened breathing and it was easy for her to listen to his. The proximity now was inciting, and one ill-placed step would see them both falling into the mud…
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 21:35:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She could see the small streams where water was starting to flow down, and she made sure her foot avoided the weak spots, the slickest that could easily make her fall all the way back to the bottom again, or at least a good few feet down. Far enough that if he picked up the pace she would have a hard time being at his side again, and that was something she would not allow. So she pushed on, her hands gripping and digging into the mud as she cleared the last stretch of hill, staying at his side the full way. <br><br>Even if she did lose this battle, it would be far from surrender. Both of them new that fact for certain. But she wasn't sure if he knew that even if she did lose this battle, she would not change. She would not be a touch more humble, more respectful. Nothing. She would only grow in spite. Actually, if he did beat her it wouldn't change. She would act the same. She would act out, if only to get more solo sessions like this with the man. If she lost to him fair and square, she would fill with an insatiable urge to improve, to show him that she could do it. That urge to impress would be almost more dangerous then her urge to amuse. It would be dangerous to herself, primarily. <br><br>For half a second she stopped at the top, getting her footing again. That pause was long enough to learn that the ground here was mud, sticky, slippery mud. It began to eat the base of her shoe as she went running off alongside Jack. She had a minor advantage here in that she weighed less. She didn't go as deep into the mud as quickly as he did. But their proximity made things even out. <br><br>When the path tightened, she changed her step a little. Instead of running identical to him, she ran with a mirrored rhythm. Their arms pressed against each other, his right going forward and back in time with her left. They were a mirror image now. He had more weight, so should they start bumping, he would have power over her in that. She ran in stride, watching the ground before her for any particularly nasty places to avoid. She couldn't held but feel the brush on each other, the closeness. The mud splattered behind them, soaking both of their backs. <br><br>After a while of solid running, Miranda got mischievous again. She spotted a deep hole approaching on his side. When he was a few steps away from it she gave a small push, outside of his tempo. It was to see if he could correct his footing instantly. If he could not his foot would likely sink in the dent and he may even fall on his face. What a victory that would be. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>01-08-2008, 23:50:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack’s weight actually did work against him. He did his best to keep his steps as brief as possible, and it distorted his balance. The man wasn’t expecting Miranda’s blow, but he was quick to adapt. His right foot sunk quickly in the deep hole, forcing his knee to bend over. Thanks to the proximity, he was able to take a firm grip around her right arm, and without hesitation he pulled it hard to get himself up. It didn’t really help though, as the act threw them both in the mud. The sergeant acted almost instinctively, pressing the private down on her back before leaning in on top of her. His left knee was lodged in between her legs, almost pressing against her crotch. <br><br>His right arm supported his weight, but it was slowly sinking deeper in the mud; bringing their faces closer and closer. His free hand was resting high above her waist, a spot on her chest just below the start of her breasts.&nbsp; Jack met her eyes and paused there for a moment, before feeling amusement replace the distinct spark of rage that had caused his reaction. Had it not been for the ambient noise, the comedy in his tone would’ve been even more obvious. <strong>“So you wanna’ play rough, Private?”</strong> He wasn’t screaming at her, but he made sure she’d hear. The soft mud was bringing the two very close, and Jack leaned back as soon as he’d finished his sentence. <br><br>His eyes shifted faintly to deliver her a new proposal, a tougher challenge. If she wanted to push him, the he’d push her. That was the new game, no rules. His expression hadn’t changed much beyond that. The man knew that Miranda would accept any challenge, and he was sure they’d both like the new conditions. It didn’t take long before the tension came back, though. Both of their uniforms were practically black with mud and dirt, the same went for most parts of their faces and their entire hands. Everything was wet. Jack gave the trail a brief glance, and a mute nod. <br><br>After that, he returned his eyes to Miranda for a brief second before jolting back on his feet and starting the same pace as before, down the narrow path. <strong>“On your feet, Private Franz!”</strong> He exclaimed flatly, even though he knew that it’d only be a few seconds before she was back on her feet and right behind him. A different sort of tension was filling the path now, stronger than the old one.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>02-08-2008, 00:13:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				For a full half second a chuckle rang through Miranda's body as she watched his foot sink, deep into the soaking mud. Surely some of that went over his boot level and seeped though his pants. She hoped so, the slickness in a boot could slow him down. If enough went in it could cause foot pain, depending on rocks or twigs or the like. It could just weigh him down and make him off balanced. She really let her mind drift on that through, that she had just gave him a nice big disadvantage. As his arm shot up and wrapped around hers she felt herself lunge forward, and twisted her body so her face wouldn't land in the mud. Instead she hit her side, rolling onto her back as soon as she has landed, her left elbow stinging just a little. <br><br>When his knee came down she was still slightly disorientated from the fall, and the rain was obscuring her vision as well since she was laying toward the sky, a few drops occasionally fell into her face and down the slopes, pooling around her eyes. She didn't have the time or position to counteract and found herself pinned. And she stared up into his eyes, locking. Unspeaking. Her face stayed generally stoic, but there was an undercurrent in her gaze. The pressure from his knee almost set her on fire, she could feel the thick bones and muscle press hard against her. Not hard enough to bruise, unless she fought against it. So close, so very tantalizingly close to her crotch. <br><br>His one hand on her was almost at her breast, just as close as the knee was to her crotch. The seconds seemed to drag by. From her view it looked like he was leaning in, but the sound of mud suctioning his hand made it apparent that was not the cause. His hand was a smaller surface, so it was sinking faster then her back and head, which was good because it kept her generally safe from getting mud in the airway. <strong>"Very rough, Sergeant.</strong>" <br><br>She stood once the weight was off her, following slowly at first. Her hands were pitch black, working at her chest. She was undoing the buttons of her shirt. She was jogging a pace or two behind as she slipped it off her arms, tying it around the waist. All she had below was the white tank top, the back was already smeared with the seepage of her last little tumble into the mud, the front half was generally clear. A few smudges where the buttons had been furthest apart. Below the material the thin outline of a black bra was noticable. Her arms were two-toned, the bottom black with mud, the top half pale and shimmering in a small layer of sweat. Once the top was secured around her waist she caught up, the cool drops hitting her newly exposed flesh. <br><br>She was on par with him again, running full out, trying to pass him now, to get ahead and stay ahead, to finish the run before him. It was a real race now, one with no rules. She kept her eyes poised on him, watching for any movements that would be the first signs of a counterattack, an attempt to bring her down in turn. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>02-08-2008, 01:27:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				It didn’t take long at all for the couple to regain the same pace they’d endured before their tumble in the mud. The rain was grossly intense now, and large puddles of water appeared all around them; seeming almost concentrated to the path in front of them. The thick forest didn’t leave much room for alternate routes, so you were constantly prone to jump across the pools you could. The rest of them were a risk you just had to take. The worst thing was that they’d still only barely started on the trail. Jack really hadn’t tested the path under such circumstances; he probably wouldn’t – unless he was challenged. He had to commend Miranda, she hadn’t been on the path before and aside from the occasional lightning, the surroundings were almost pitch black. He couldn’t help but wonder just how rough the private wanted to play, and what activities the comment regarded. <br><br>The thought would’ve incited another brief smirk, had it not been for the fact that the physical venture was just that demanding. Jack gave her a quick glance as she returned to his side, her white top giving him a new view of her chest. He wondered how thin the textile was, and whether or not it would start clinging on to her skin when it was wet enough. He hoped it would. The man turned his attention back to the race and decided that he wasn’t going to spare the private, he had the benefit of being bigger and that gave him the advantage when they were this close. She’d have to struggle. He would not let her pass. He didn’t want to just block her route, because that would mean removing that teasing proximity he found himself enjoying more with each passing second – even if it might will her into jumping up on his back. That would’ve been a comical sight. <br><br>The man kept to his side of the narrow path, but every time she brushed up against him he’d lean his weight against her, forcing her to either violently push against him, or slow down to avoid being forced into a tree. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d reach a deceitful cliff. The distance to the ground below wasn’t long, but in this darkness it would come as a decisive surprise. That landing was all about luck. He knew there’d be a big mass of water, and a hefty foundation of mud below. The key there was to somehow land on the hard surfaces he knew waited below the mud. There were quite a few of them, but if you missed the landing you’d undoubtedly become rather lodged in the muddy water. <br><br>Suddenly, the cliff came. Thanks to the darkness, Jack had made a miscalculation of the distance remaining and found himself making an unprepared jump, completely missing the hard foundation. His only chance now was to rely on her, if she’d hit the harder ground he’d use her to get up, and he knew that this time; she’d be prepared to fight.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>02-08-2008, 21:15:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She was running in time with him. Breathing deep and with proper form, even so their little games were sure to run amok on her endurance soon enough. She wondered how long this course was. She was feeling rejuvenated with the fresh water pouring on her exposed arms and most of her shoulder. She only knew where she was going by keeping an eye on him. If he turned she turned, if he jumped she jumped. She tried to watch for herself, but it was hard with a new track and such horrible conditions. She let her body press against his as they ran, the water beginning to seep through her white tank top, show off her firm black bra, even the general size of the breasts within them. The material began to cling, every step being exemplified in the small bounces of her bosom.<br><br>She continued her pace, her mind wondered. It hovered on the right general topic, but was different. It was Hall and herself in a hand-to-hand combat but it was so sexually driven. Every small advantage met with a moan. His firm, muscular body pinning her to the ground just as it had done moments ago. She continued to run as the thoughts toyed with her mind. It took a few seconds before she noticed a change int herself. Her silhouette began to change, a slow, small change. She couldn't see it that well, but he would be looking from the side, he might see. The combination of the rain, his actions, and her thoughts were making her nipples hard. Prominent little beads below the otherwise smooth material that clung to her every curve.<br><br>She pushed firm against him, she had to use almost all of her weight to counteract his pushes. He was not yet trying to send her to the ground, but he was not being exactly gentle about the matter either. He was pushing her hard, and she was pushing right back. She wasn't trying to catch him off guard though. Now it was just a give and pull battle as they ran. She pushed against him, and for a second thought that he was falling because of it. But that wasn't it. He'd jumped. She didn't see anything ahead but she jumped as well, a second later. As her foot left the ground she could feel the front of her toes curve down. She was jumping off a ledge. She braced her legs, hoping that she would land in mud instead of a pool of water, so her impact would be taken. <br><br>Mud impacted her blow, her feet slowed down, bent slightly at the knees to relive pressure. She sunk for half a second, a few inches, then she hit a solid bottom. Slate or Bedrock, it felt like. She almost took off at a sprint again, but noticed that Hall was not already before her. The new section was a little wider, he was to her right, a little bit away. From the look of it he was not on the bedrock, he was deeper. Sunk almost to the knee already. She moved fast, not raising her feet, dragging them along the hard base so she wouldn't step off. She found the edge closest to him, only a few inches over. If he had landed with one foot on the bedrock and one in the mud it easily could have broken his leg. If she had landed like that it could have broken hers. But he didn't warn her about it- at all. She slid back, watching him. He would probably need her help to get out- and had he warned her about the cliff she'd have given it. But no- he'd have to ask- or take. For once since she arrived, she was silent to him, watching. Not rubbing it in-yet. Even so, she kept a close watch, she wasn't going to let him sink much lower. She was competitive, not murderous. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>02-08-2008, 23:47:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack cursed himself for completely missing the solid ground. Miranda’s success was due to luck, and nothing else. He didn’t need to tell himself that, though; they were both aware of the circumstances. It didn’t really matter what had happened up until this point, the only thing that was important now was that she was looking down at him. She had the power. The man knew that she wouldn’t just run; nobody would have just kept running. It wasn’t just because he could be at risk, Jack was sure that he could get himself up alone. It was all about respect for the competition. The man extended his arm out towards Miranda, but his tone didn’t bulge, it was as expectant and raw as always. <strong>“Private!”</strong> His eyes indicated that he wasn’t going to give her anything more than that, though. No, if she didn’t help him up now he’d struggle to get up on his own. <br><br>The sergeant was thankful to see that she did indeed take his arm, and their hands joined together in a firm grip as he pulled himself up. Once he was lodged out of the mud and standing beside her, he paused. He leveled his eyes with hers and gave her a mute nod, feigning a posture that would’ve indicated that the big man was about to give her a modest<em> ‘thank you’</em>. She would undoubtedly be happily awaiting the words, but instead the man rapidly took one step forward, bringing his foot down just behind her left leg. This movement was quickly followed by a flat palm hitting her chin vertically while he took a hold of her left arm to swipe her off her feet. The man really hadn’t been very tactical about it in spite of the rapid execution, and the muddy soil forced him down with her. Jack Hall really didn’t like having to ask for help. He was again quick to adapt to the situation, getting up on his knees just as she did. <br><br>He lunged himself at her, managing to end up behind her due to the slippery ground. The man firmly clasped his arms around her chest, just below her breasts. The grip was locking her arms to her sides, and his hips were bucking against hers as the brawl ensued. She would feel just a notion of the hard surface pressing against her bottom. His hot breath hammered against her ear, hinting at excitement mixed with physical strain. His arms slipped up higher on her chest, pressing her cleavage up. The man wasn’t thinking, not at all. It had all happened as some sort of wave running across him, starting when he’d tripped her to the ground. <br><br>The stinging irritation and partial anger had flooded over and become something entirely different, and he paused there for a moment before letting go of her. He remained on his knees, and his eyes almost kindled with that familiar presence that indicated that the game was being changed again. They were going to fight now, right then and there. It wasn’t a desire to fight that fueled him, though. No, it was an intense desire to join her in a close, primal struggle for dominance. His hands remained faintly elevated at his side, waving an alluring <em>'come on'</em> at her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 00:15:17</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She watched him writhe in the mud for a few seconds before his steely gaze turned to her. Her rank. All he said was her rank, no asking, no nothing like that. But he knew. He knew that he was asking for help and that was a victory enough. Besides, she wanted to finish off their little run. Or their tumble from earlier, anything really. Watching him squirm in the mud did little for her, she reached out. Both their hands were slick with slime, but the grip was firm. Up and over the mud, she pulled into onto the mud covered bedrock. He was heavy, the mud weighed him down even more, but since he was helping it wasn't too hard. Her right arm was now slick with mud, some all along the side of her neck. Her chest rose and fell in deep breaths, the pointed nipples almost hidden by mud now. By feel they were noticable, but not by sight in this near-darkness. <br><br>A silent nod. That was all she got. It was still enough, their power struggle was internal, non nonverbal. Both knew when another had scored a basket, and that was Miranda getting a swish from past half. She opened her mouth to talk, but instead her mouth shut again with a painful snap as her chin was thrust back. Her legs too, they came from below her. The bastard had caught her off guard again and brought her to the ground, mud splashing from below her. He fell with her, and was up on his knees in a second, sliding over the surface. She moved to her knees, planting her toes against the rock and moving to swing at him, but she was caught first. <br><br>Her arms locked at her sides, she tried to pull them from her body and get leverage but couldn't seem to do so, she could feel his muscles against her chest and knew she couldn't overpower them. A wave ran over her body as she thought that. He was strong, stronger then her physically. If he tried, he could do almost anything to her to teach her a lesson. Just as that thought lingered while she struggled, her backside twitched. Pumping, from behind. Her mouth opened and a moan came from within, she fought harder, letting her rump bounce back against him. <br><br>She pushed away the second she was released, her body turning in a fluid motion helped by the slick mud. She faced him now, eyes deep and wide. <strong>"That all you got, Sergeant?"</strong> Her voice was husky, sensual and empowered. Her toes dug into the bedrock again and she flung herself against him, this time she stole his position from earlier, but altered it slightly. Her entire weight went into her upper body as she&nbsp; threw both her hands against his shoulder, forcing him back. His feet were firmly enough placed that his knees stayed bent even as she climbed over him, one leg over to the side, the other forced it's way between his legs. Just like he had done before, but she didn't hold back, she rubbed her knee right against his crotch, putting all her weight against his shoulders. She knew he could throw her off, but she wanted to get his primal side in control before his next move. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 01:37:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack barely had time to reply before she lunged herself at him. He already knew that Miranda would be packing quite a punch, and he felt confident in his footing. That was, until a fraction of a second before her impact, the mud gave way for one of his knees; almost completely throwing him off his defensive stance. The next thing he knew, her body was almost locked on top of him, and his response would have been instant had it not been for the pressing, rubbing touch of her knee against his crotch. The man suppressed an excited gasp as a lightning of restrained and unfulfilled pleasure ran through his chest and his loins. There was no doubt that she’d feel his hard lust. His counterattack was a bit clumsy, but still efficient. <br><br>He clenched his jaw shut and amassed enough raw strength to abruptly push her off. This move was instantly followed by a very rough frontal attack; he practically threw himself at her upper body, knowing that she wouldn’t risk losing her breath as her back slammed against the wet mud behind her. He didn’t need to crawl up across her; he could practically slide himself up on her. As he made his advance to lock her down, one of his hands ran across her right breast for only a faint second, loosely grabbing it. He could feel her hard, incited nipples and it spurred him to continue. It was easy for him to force her legs apart, practically sealing the both of them in the missionary. Their eyes were leveled once again, and he thrust his hips into her just once. <br><br>The man had been quick to lock his hands around her wrists, holding them down just above her head. The tension was excruciating, and their faces were little less than an inch apart. The rain was still pouring down hard, and every other minute a lightning struck down not far from where they were situated. <strong>“What are you going to do now, huh?”</strong> His voice was delightfully intensive, suggestive and challenging. He loved feeling her pinned beneath him, he relished in every second of it. She was a rebellious student and it was his duty as her teacher to give her a few lessons. Force some real discipline into her, the way he had in mind. <br><br>People would undoubtedly pay for a chance to see the scene that was taking place. It was like a cup filled almost to the rim, a matter of seconds remaining before it would flow over. Their hips were still pressed together, and just as he finished his sentence he slowly but firmly pushed his hips up against hers again. There was so little preventing him from ripping her shirt open right then and there.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 02:08:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her knee pressed firm, but was met with something even more firm. For a second she thought it was his pelvic bone. And then it dawned on her. That was him. He was filling with primal urges, with blood. Pulsing below her, and for a second his face showed emotions. Suppression, he was trying not to let her know how she was affecting him. But she knew, she could feel it, in his eyes, in his crotch, even in herself. The tension was building. <br><br>She was pushed back, her body flung against the rock, making her grateful for the mud that cushioned all the blows. His body slid over her, enticing her nipples even more. He grabbed at her breast and she thrashed below him. Her hands were caught, pinned above her. Water ran over her face, dropping off him and soaking everything about them. Her back arched at the one solitary thrust, her eyes shutting for half a moment. It was so erotic, everything. The mud, the rain, the foreplay that was the running, the dominance. In this he scored a point, she but was far from keeping score of that particular tally at the moment. <br><br>At his words she leaned in, their lips almost touched. <strong>"Everything, Hall. I'm going to do <em>everything</em>."</strong> With that her hips thrust against his, pushing them so close together and jerking about below, rubbing against him. With the wetness of their clothes he could literally feel the parts in her flesh, the place where a hole waited, inviting him in. She kept her lips almost at his, waiting to see if he would kiss her. How he would kiss her. If he didn't kiss her, this was just a one time lust, a primal urge he couldn't control. If he kissed her- well that could show something more. It could still be primal, but inviting none the less. Even as she rocked against him her wrists twisted, straining for freedom. She wanted to ride him, she wanted to be in charge and make him moan her name, not the other way around. But she was never one to refuse sex when she was this aroused. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 02:50:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack could feel the little control he had left slowly slip away. His breathing was still irregular, hammering against her. In return, he could feel her share the same pace and they both knew that it wasn’t just because of the physical exhaustion. As she bucked her hips back against him, he gave her another hard, decisive thrust. Her words echoed through him for a moment and that was all he needed. The man released her wrists, moving both of his hands to the top of what used to be a white tank top, ripping it apart right through the middle. The water had softened the textile, and it barely took any effort at all. Her skin was moist and soft, and his hands slid up against her bra, pushing it up over her breasts and exposing them. <br><br>They were both bathing in mud now, but it only added to the eroticism of the moment. The man leveled his eyes with hers again as he allowed his hands to hoarsely play with her firm mounds. He didn’t prolong it any longer. Jack leaned down across the inch separating their lips and embraced her in the passionate start of a kiss. The soft pieces of gilded flesh almost melted together, and he made sure to really taste her sweet lips. He was exposed now, and she so desired, she wouldn’t need to give much effort to push him over and gain the upper hand, the dominant position that he currently held. He suspected Miranda wanted it, he knew she wouldn’t submit so easily. Not that there was anything easy about it, it was deeply intense.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 03:25:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her shirt was ripped off. The top was still around her waist as a mud drenched mess behind her back, but she didn't have a way to get that out from under her, not with him on top. Either way, she didn't want to cover herself. Her deep red nipples were high, water hitting against them. They were mostly clear, because of the layers that had been over them, their paleness shone bright in the light, like two beacons in the darkness. <strong>"You want me, Sergeant. Say it. Say you want me."</strong> A second later she lent forward, into the kiss, her now free arms wrapped around his back.<br><br>She let her lips merge with his, deeply sucking his bottom lip and pressing so tight against him. Her hands slide over his spine, down it hungerly until she found the bottom of his shirt. Her hands slid under it and moved up his back again, bunching the shit up and exposing his back. She pulled her hips back for a second, holding them away, then she thrust deep against him. Then held it away, torturing and teasing his erect cock. She pulled her lips away from his for a moment too, staring into his eyes as she worked her body below him, thrusting out of any noticable rhythm, keeping his senses on edge. <br><br>As she paused away from him for a second, she heard squishing, a rhythmic thump in the mud. Almost like footsteps. Her breath was rugged when she spoke <strong>"Do you- hear something?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 06:35:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The volatile thunderstorm continued to roar around them. The wind was picking up speed, and the rain was relentless. It was undoubtedly an ingredient that only contributed to the moment. The intensity of the weather reflected their current behavior. At first glance it wouldn’t be easy to determine which was the most intense; the rumbling storm or the couple in the mud. You wouldn’t have to pay much attention to learn that it was indeed the latter. She was putting him through the most pleasurable torture, working against the movements of his hips; giving him little more than just a fragment of the intimate touch he desired. He naturally couldn’t refuse her request, even though he wanted to hold it back just for the sake of denying her that which she so wanted to hear.&nbsp; <strong>“I want you… I want all of you, Miranda.”</strong> His voice was very different now, in his enraptured state. It was intense, excited, low and hoarse. He spoke the words like a lover, almost subconsciously using her first name, in that state of extreme intimacy. <br><br>Her persistent avoidance and teasing withdrawal of her hips awoke an urge to spin the girl around and take her hard from behind. Maybe they’d have time for that too. He knew what he wanted right now, though. He knew what he <em>needed</em>. They both knew it. The lust had enveloped them both and if they weren’t stopped, they would keep going until they’d exhausted the last of their strength and then some. His urge for her was that strong. Jack picked up the low, thudding sound of encroaching footsteps right about the same time Miranda did. He was just about to say something, but she beat him to it. They both remained utterly still, forcing their breathing to something inaudible as they tried to determine the source and nature of the sound. They must’ve both realized exactly what it was at the same time, because their eyes suddenly met. It took less than a second before they both felt their roles return to them. Jack ransacked his mind in an attempt to find out who’d be using the trail now, and why. <strong>“It’s the General.”</strong> That’s all he said before leaning back from her, spinning around to look as far back the trail as he could. <br><br>The footsteps were coming closer so quickly, and he shot another glance at Miranda before taking a firm grip around her left arm, pulling her up before yanking her in behind the nearest tree. If they were caught together like this, he’d probably be transferred. The military were crude bastards when it came to that; they transferred you anywhere regardless of whether or not you actually had a life somewhere. She knew it too, it was common sense. Drill instructors didn’t fuck their recruits, and the recruits didn’t fuck the instructors. They could both hear the loud splash indicating that the general had just leapt from the cliff. The man ran right past them. He would’ve had to be a bloody owl to notice them. <br><br>He really didn’t mess with that one, if Miranda considered Hall to be anything even like a tightass, she’d found her standards to be raised quite a bit after a meeting with the general. Then again, he suspected she knew the ropes. The higher up they were, the more broken glass they had for dinner; the fanatic bastards. He waited for a moment, before exclaiming a sigh of relief, feeling a bright smile play across his lips. <strong>“That was close.”</strong> He rose to his feet and offered an arm to help her up. The intensity of the moment was almost gone, save for the knowing glimpses they exchanged. It was over, for now; but they both knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d end up in a similar situation. <strong>“On your feet, Private.”</strong> His voice had regained some of its past discipline now, but a faint smirk still persisted. Only for a moment, though.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>03-08-2008, 07:23:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The tone of his voice had spurned her on. It echoed in her head, louder then the storm. The use of her name had been tender- not forced. Not as if he was using her full name to get her attention, more as if he wanted them to forget rank right now and not be instructor and recruit, but two lovers locked in an intense hold. She of course had no complaints, she felt that very way. In the back of her mind as she moved she knew they had ranks, a hierarchy, and rules. That was part of what excited her the most. Until the abrupt comment from Hall. <br><br>She flung herself behind the tree, fixing her bra as she went, sliding the pale skin into the sacks, getting mud on them as she did so. That would itch once it dried, but with the rain she doubted she'd have that problem before getting to a shower. Her hands undid the shirt around her waist, putting it on silently. When the footsteps got too close to froze, holding the button half done. When they were clear she finished, wiping a little dirt off herself and pushing her hair out of her face. <br><br>She lent back against the tree and nodded. <strong>"It was."</strong> For a moment she felt like they were teens screwing on a couch, pulling their pants back up as the father came downstairs to peek in on them. And like now they had escaped punishment. Instead of the teen plan of resuming fucking, they were going back to their initial task. She caught his tone, and also his smirk. A nice change, but one she knew wouldn't last long. None of this would continue before the other recruits. Or anyone. They would act the same before the public, because they had to keep this quiet, and because they were both so stubborn. <br><br>She shook the mud out of her hair as well she could before beginning again, being careful not to step into the deep portion of the area. When the track started to be normal again she sped up to a jog, knowing he was behind her. After that she didn't feel like full out running, but if he brought it she would as well. When he joined her side they ran in step. This was different then before, for her at least. It was knowing. She was trying not to smile, she could feel the twinges of competition but they were so small, almost playful. She knew it would change one she had regained her composure fully, but for the time it was just nice.<br><br>As they jogged a chuckle broke between them from her lips, and she instantly explained. <strong>"I was going to request permission to ask a question- but that's the most redundant thing I think I've ever had to hear. So, I'm just gonna ask and you can bitch about protocol later."</strong> She was back to a snide tone, making a note in her brain to insult protocol. Something to get them back to the way they had been before, without the.... was it a tenderness, or simply a lack of resentment? <strong>"Do you always chose a recruit to do this with, or am I just too damn tempting, <em>Sergeant</em>?"</strong> She looked over at him, to see if she had shifted his facade enough that he would show a reaction. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>04-08-2008, 05:46:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack successfully suppressed another smile when he heard her words. <strong>“I don’t fuck my recruits, Private Franz.”</strong> He stated flatly, using his most totalitarian voice; giving her a brief nudge at the same time to affirm the ulterior comical meaning of his exclamation. The man knew that the real answer to her question would have pleased her immensely; <em>yes, you’re too fucking tempting</em>. The rest of the night flew by rather quickly. Jack knew that there wasn’t much of a risk that they’d run into the general, because that man moved as fast as they did. The competition continued, almost as if it was an extension of the play in the mud; the struggle for the dominant position. They both wanted it, and only time would tell which one of them would submit. An additional thirty minutes of physical exhaustion brought them within one kilometer of the ‘finish line’. Jack could feel the immense strain throughout his entire body; the race undoubtedly being the toughest endurance in a very long time. Not to mention what he’d rank among the top five most erotic moments of his life. <br><br>The path really didn’t need any more introductions, and frankly the author is decisively confident that the trail has received enough intensive commentary. It was hell; there was no other suitable characteristic to apply. They remained beside each other, pressing and pushing their hot, wet bodies against one another. The ending of the trail came suddenly. The many dim lights of the base began appearing in the distance below them, a stunning reminder of the height they’d ascended. It was a pretty steep slope, but if you tried something like throwing yourself; you wouldn’t slide far. The very sight of it caused them both to start a new pace. Jack began exhausting every piece of energy he’d been storing up during the run, which wasn’t all that much – but he knew she’d be doing the same. The slope served as an additional speed enhancer, giving that effect you feel when you’ve begun running down a hill; you know – <em>I can’t fucking stop</em>. <br><br>Jack didn’t mind that, though. It was all about winning now. He knew for a fact that he had the upper hand already. He was running on the side of the path that wasn’t filled with potholes near the end. She’d be running right into a mass of them, and even though she’d be able to dodge them; it would throw her off a winning chance. She’d hate that, he was sure. It ended quickly, and just as he’d predicted the potholes had served as a sufficient distraction. He didn’t enjoy a grand victory, but it was clear which one of them had lost. He brought himself to a stop once they’d finished past the thin tree line that marked the line, and locked his eyes on her. There really wasn’t much conversation to be had. He’d barely won, after all. <strong>“Outstanding, Private…”</strong> The compliment was quite false, as was indicated by the words that entailed it. <strong>“… and now the latrines are waiting. I want them sparkling clean when I wake up tomorrow.” </strong> <br><br>He contemplated for a moment that there was a good chance she’d fall asleep trying to clean the shower room. Very few people would still have the strength to do something like that. But he knew she was tough, and she’d probably make it fueled just by an urge to show him that his measures weren’t getting to her. A series of pleasant images sprung out from that thought. Miranda on her knees in the shower room, scrubbing the floor. He made a mental note to make sure he’d be there and watch her one night. Perhaps to taunt her, or maybe to push her up against the wall and see if he could take her there without waking the dorm up. He didn’t want to risk turning her into the whore that’s sleeping with the drill instructor, though. No, he didn’t find it likely that people would even start considering that reality. After all, he didn’t cut her any slack at all, and he sure wasn’t going to stop now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>04-08-2008, 06:19:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was keeping in time with him, but dwindling as the ran continued. Her pure need to show him up and win was what kept her going. She straightened out her mind, focusing when she saw the final stretch of slick downhill mud. It would be impossible to stop, and a fall from the speed they were certain to be going could have incredibly painful results. But even as she knew that, she broke into a sprint. She was going to win, she could feel it. She had more flexibility, her legs could take faster strides and bounce right back as gravity pulled her down. She broke down the hill next to him, running faster then she had in a very, very long time. She kept her speed as she watched the ground. Pothole. That bastard had probably planned this. She had to avoid them, it slowed her down. Not much- but enough to be overpassed. Potholes. Potholes had cost her a race she would bet was around two kilometres long. <br><br>She slowed to a halt and stared at him, her eyes brimming deep with anger again. She couldn't believe he'd won. A second later that look was gone, placed by a nonchalant attitude. <strong>"Not bad yourself." </strong>She let her hands trail over her body, wiping the excess mud to the ground, not being keep on dragging that all into the latrines just so she would have to wash it all up right after. <strong>"For a tightass."</strong> Her lips curved in a faint smile. She knew the dynamic that this would take now. Competition- always competition. In public, the same mindless banter and disobedience as during the day. But at night, alone, there would be this playful knowing air. No matter what the time was, the sexual tension was sure to persist, but go unfed during the day. <br><br>She had seen her share of taboo military relationships. She never intended herself to be in one, but this was not exactly a relationship they had- just a struggle for dominance of all kinds. She would play along, because the chase excited her. Almost as much as she knew the kill would, eventually. She finished wiping the mud off and turned, leaving him without any polite goodnight or the like. Just a call over her shoulder. <strong>"Four hours of sleeping in- don't forget."</strong> It was partially to remind him that during the day they had tied, and she had been right in his face about it. Also, because she knew those four hours would be her savior in getting through the next day with some degree of consciousness. <br><br>When she returned to the dorm she moved quietly. Everyone else was asleep. She first went to the latrines and washed her hands, then moved to her bed again, thankful it was the closest to the bathroom. She rummaged and found her sleep wear. Then she brought that back to the washroom, stripped, and climbed in the shower. The latrines were quiet enough, because the people who had built the dorm knew people would be up cleaning at all hours of the night. In that she was thankful. She soaped her lithe body and cleaned off every speck of dried mud, having to clean her breasts while she was at it. That sparked her attention. She felt a strong urge to finger herself- but refused. She wanted to really bring on the sexual tension she knew would follow. It excited her to no end. <br><br>She finished bathing and moved to cleaning. The entire thing must have taken another hour, luckily she had a nice big brush. They hadn't yet moved down to toothbrush sized implements that shrunk in size as the camp aged. She pressed on, knowing that he expected her to pass out before finishing- knowing that most cadets would. She was throughly exhausted when it was all over, and climbed to her bed quickly. Passing out almost instantly- and with good reason.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>06-08-2008, 00:45:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack returned to the instructor’s office to have a shower and browse through some paperwork before heading off to sleep. He found a notice on his desk, from the base administration. A handful of the recruits had spent the evening complaining to the brass. It really was just business as usual, apparently it didn’t matter exactly what he put the units through – someone always complained and began questioning the ‘ethical affiliation of the staff sergeant’s judgement’. The man usually didn’t have any problem with responding to the allegations; he ate lunch with the people that reviewed the citations. In short, Jack could put his recruits through whatever he wanted. He spent roughly an hour in the dimly lit office, finding it very difficult to suppress the events of the night. He had the ability to reason now, a clear state of mind. Had it not been for the physical exhaustion tearing at his body, he probably would’ve reached a healthy conclusion. For now, he just pushed it all out of his mind and marked the next day of the dorm schedule for hand-to-hand combat. <br><br>The sergeant didn’t want to drive the lot of them crazy and close combat was a good option, because it wouldn’t exhaust them and it would eventually boost their confidence. He managed to spend the first five minutes in his bunk without thinking about Miranda. She tore at his mind and kept him from really falling asleep, filling him with a searing frustration. It wasn’t just about an immense desire to tie the girl’s hands behind her back and screw her brains out, he wanted to show her that she wasn’t as good as she thought. At least he’d get to kick her ass the next day. That was going to be a start. Maybe she’d push her luck again, and act all cocky. Jack was sure he’d have no option but to deal with her in person. Just as he had done during the night. The next morning he woke up with the same frustration, and he couldn’t hold back a smirk at the thought of how many recruits would be seriously injured during the course of the day. <br><br>Beating the shit out of a few rookies would undoubtedly provide ample outlet – especially considering that Miranda would be one of them. He was unaware of her past experience in close combat, but that didn’t really matter; she was hitting the dirt. Jack got up, had another shower and got himself ready before joining Rodriguez on his way to the dorm complex. The colleague was wearing a bright smile. <strong>“Did you lose? The guys made bets. You lost, right?”</strong> His voice hinted at some amusement. <strong>“You bet against me…?”</strong> Jack said as he stifled a chuckle. <strong>“You’re damn right I did. You big bastard, there’s no way you can run faster than that little minx.”</strong> Marc kept his eyes fixed on his superior officer as they made the last distance to the dorm. <strong>“She’s just another rookie.”</strong> Jack couldn’t hold back a smirk as he spoke, the man beside him exclaiming a silent ‘bullshit’ at his loss. The second they stepped inside the threshold, Rodriguez let out a sharp cry for attention before walking past Hall to hound the slowest off them out of bed, and to check the latrines. <br><br>Jack naturally didn’t go over there to check for himself. He wouldn’t dream of giving Miranda the pleasure of seeing that. Marc gave him a sharp nod to indicate that the job had indeed been done. <strong>“Wake the fuck up and get in line!”</strong> Hall’s tone voiced over everything else audible and then he waited for his order to be carried out. It didn’t take long. <strong>“Good morning! Today we will be going through rudimentary hand-to-hand combat! Nobody will be picking up your teeth, you will pick them up yourselves, understood?!”</strong> He received a resounding confirmation from the dorm. <strong>“Proceed to the gymnasium immediately, follow the signs!”</strong> The recruits stifled another strong reply before starting their move over to one of the larger buildings in the base. Jack remained in the dorm for just a little while longer, until nobody but himself and Miranda remained. <strong>“Hold it, Private Franz. Drop down and give me fifty push-ups right now.”</strong> His hallow eyes promised so much lingering behind the thin veil, but his expression didn’t change.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>07-08-2008, 04:06:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When she did fall asleep it was a restless one at that. Her night was plagued with Sergeant Hall. Running. Yelling. Just standing and glaring. Not exactly anything to worry or upset her, but enough to make her a little agitated. But it persisted. Him falling into the mud. Her pinning him. Him pinning her. The feel of his erection against her tail-bone. That sensation held strong- she could almost feel the firm bulge against her while she slept. It was a solid sleep none the less, relaxing and rejuvenating. She would need it, of that she was certain. <br><br>Miranda woke up at the cry for attention and sat up in her bed, watching Rodriguez walk to the latrines. Her eyes darted to Hall. Standing, in all his glory, at ease but still so firm- so proper. No reaction before yelling, but obviously Rodriguez had pointed out that the latrines were fine. For a moment she toyed with the thoughts. What if she hadn't cleaned them. What would he have done with her then. That thought was pushed from her mind when he started his holier then thou voice he used on everyone else. It grated against her the wrong way.<br><br>Finally he finished his little yelling fest and they were free to go. As the recruits fell out she was at the end of the line, still being closest to the bathroom. She gave a joking salute, two fingers touched her temple then went up and flicked. It was all done with a causality. Though the idea of hand-to-hand had her interested enough again. In that it brought back memories... she wondered if he had initially planned on having hand-to-hand today, or if she had altered his schedule. That thought made her smile, both inside and out. So when he spoke the smile vanished. The cockiness jumped to the forefront.&nbsp; <br><br>But his eyes. His eyes were what convinced her. She did not drop to the ground, not yet. To be down was such a submissive position. In their little row she could not simply drop and give her fifty on a whim. He would need to convince her. She would need to get enough snide comments in before the event to make herself feel evened about the thing. She had no problems with push ups. Both of them knew that. And still he asked. When he knew she had cleaned the latrines and had even woke up and stood...more or less in line and in attention. <br><br>She glanced, half a second at most. They were alone. So she stepped close- closer then would be allowed for her. The Sergeant could step right into the Privates face, for it to be the other way around was just- unheard of. In most cases. Miranda Franz and Jack Hall were not ‘most cases'. <strong>"I really want to hear you <em>try</em> to explains this one, Hall. I'm dressed- conscious, did the latrines, ran your stupid race..."</strong> She broke off and allowed herself a deep chuckle. <strong>"I see. Hand-to-hand combat today. Trying to wear out my upper body so I don't pin you again, but in front of your little recruits? I can under stand that."</strong> She turned, stepping away. <strong>"But if that's all- I've got a gymnasium to get to, with my unit."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>07-08-2008, 06:08:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Just as Miranda took that last step assuring their intimacy, Jack leaned in closer as well. He was usually good at finding improvised justification. In the end, it was all in his job description. In this case, he chose not to bullshit her. He could’ve told her a handful of things, but he wanted to try a different game. As soon as she turned away from him, he followed her movements and blocked her route by standing on the threshold of the exit. The man arched in closer again, before speaking. <strong>“Get down on the fucking floor and get to work or I’ll push you down there myself, Private…” </strong> He said, using his Miranda voice. His tone underlined his intentions, as always. He was committed to teaching her that he was the authority present, and that he wouldn’t be questioned. This situation didn’t have a lot of outcomes. She could blatantly disobey, in which case she’d receive a fair beating before being sent to the brig. <br><br>She could respectfully disobey, and he’d probably just sent her to the brig – or perhaps even let her move along. In the end, the only good option for her was to obey. She could naturally try to fight him, but that wouldn’t be good for her in the long run. In the end, it was the typical way to deal with her type. He was curious to see just what reaction she’d assume, now that she was faced with a man that had a demand and wasn’t open to negotiation. <strong>“Stop wasting my time and get to it.” </strong> There was an ulterior message glinting in his eyes; <em>unless you wanna’ try to get past me</em>. Jack straightened his posture, but didn’t to assume any defensive stance. She was not going to be able to kick his nuts. That was one area where he was very ready to protect himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MusicNeverDies</strong> on <strong>07-08-2008, 06:28:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				No real reason was given. That was enough for Miranda. It meant he just wanted to see her down there- obeying him and being submissive- like he probably jerked off thinking of. As much as that thought toyed in her head, she would not exactly give in to him. At the same time, there was a distinct line of a threat below the words. As tempting as she was, she would be less so with a black eye. Any bruise on her would not fair well for her own self confidence. And with a competition like hers and Halls, she needed that confidence. <strong>"On the fucking floor. Got it."</strong> Her voice was playful, but not ignorant. Still full of such a flame. She fell smoothly backwards, onto her bottom, supported by her hands. Her hands slid back and she lent against them, her legs crossed before her. She looked rather like she was lounging on a beach now. She was toying a very thin line. It would upset him. But at the same time she was starting to give way. Holding them in a stalemate, close to a beat and brig as possible- and yet cunningly trying to avoid it. That would not work for their game. <br><br>One hand raised, wisping a strand of hair out of her face and back into place with the bangs. Her other arm bent, and she slid onto her elbows behind her, lower to the ground again, but still casual. She stared Jack down for what seemed like minutes, but must have been only two seconds, before very slowly rolling onto her stomach. Even then she let her arms cross below her chin, resting there like she was about to sleep this time. <strong>"You're holding up the entire unit because your want to watch my sweet, supple ass bounce up and down for you. I can't say I blame you, but even I think that's a little out of line with Military standards."</strong> She flashed him an upwards grin, her hands finally sliding into a proper position for push ups. <strong>"Just admit that's what you want to see, Hall, and I'll give you your fifty....Or maybe you just like to see my head bobbing up and down...and imagine."</strong> Another solid giggle into the dusty floor before her eyes returned to him. Her implied meaning had been clear. She had just told her superior that it was an option that he only wanted her to do push-ups to imagine her sucking him off. Last nights festivities had seemed to spark a new boldness in Miranda. <strong>"Admit <em>that</em> and I'll give you fifty-one."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Insubordinate Infatuation [James and MusicNeverDies]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>James</strong> on <strong>11-12-2008, 12:06:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Miranda was playing with a very volatile fire. Not just a common brazier, but a really fucking rampaging forest disaster. As much as she was enticing – he was on the verge of admitting just what he wanted to see - the urge to give her a few quick and hard kicks to her stomach was ever so tempting. He could probably get away with it. Jack forced himself to remember that they were just on their way to the gymnasium to actually fight. He’d kick her ass in front of all of them, and he wouldn’t spare her a moment’s respite. <br><br>The burly man pondered over how to best settle the situation at hand. He reached the firm conclusion that her behavior was completely unacceptable, and brought his knee down hard on the small of her back, reaching a hand up to grab a tuft of her hair at the same time. Jack pressed her face down on the floor of the garrison entrance. He’d abused bitching recruits in the past, but it had never been any special thrill. This time, it was different, and his voice was not quite as sharp when he spoke. <strong>“Inappropriate conduct and disobedience will not be tolerated in my unit…”</strong> his grip around her hair was rough, but he knew Miranda could take it, and so much more.<br><br>Jack needed to show her that witty sentiments had a consequence. This was the difference between them that wouldn’t easily be erased; he was still officially and unofficially the leader, and until she claimed one of those roles she would be pressed down, literally. Naturally, the man enjoyed violently pressing her down against the floor, not only because she was a bitchy and cocky bastard. Jack leaned down close enough for her to feel his breath touching against her left ear, his voice lowered to little more than a whisper. <strong>“You're going to do as you're fucking told today, Miranda…”</strong> he delayed there for a moment, his mind experimenting with what he could do next, what with her pushed down into such a comfortable position. Jack finally decided that he was holding the unit, and that it wouldn’t be long before one of the instructors came back to see what the hell was going on. <br><br>Still, he felt as if no one had really won here, but maybe that was just him. The man used his free hand to take a firm hold around her right arm, twisting it around her back and against the joints before removing his knee from her back, and with the combined grip around her hair and arm, he pulled her to her feet. Jack held here there for a moment, pressed close against his body, his eyes scouting across her creamy neck for a moment before he pushed her forward, releasing her. <strong>“The gymnasium, Private. Move!”</strong> he exclaimed, using his Miranda-voice almost subconsciously.<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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