The Empire Spanks Brats Chapter 11

The Empire Spanks Brats 11

By Red Rover

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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The Empire Spanks Brats – Chapter 11

Major Characters:

Benjamin Rogers (94) - College professor, MD and retired Army officer.

Warren Morris (59) - Commander, RN, Adjutant, HMS Birkenhead.

Scott Duncan (47) - Major, Royal Marines

Beverly Wilson (25) – Ensign CS, Assistant Purser

Amber Keith (23) – Midshipman - Cadet

Teri Anton (19) - Midshipman – Crewgirl

The next morning, the three girls were in high spirits. I got three enthusiastic, “Morning Grandpa’s” and three wet sloppy kisses. I decided to let them escort the new girls to breakfast, while I paid a call on Major Duncan. The Marine area was a bit of a walk, but I needed the exercise and strolled along, looking at the various ship areas I had not seen before. I had, of course, called ahead to make sure I would not be interrupting anything important. It was the day before undocking and the ship’s crew were bustling about as usual on the day before departure.

The Birkenhead’s Marine detachment was quite small; four officers and thirty one enlisted men. I was introduced to Captain Sally Wu, Lt Gregory Davis and Lt Marcus Grant as we had breakfast in the small Marine wardroom. Marines have two basic jobs aboard a Colonial Service ship; manning the guns and providing shipboard security.

“I am rather impressed with your firepower for a non-warship,” I remarked. “Four twin turrets of 11.8 cm rail guns is the usual armament for a Federation heavy cruiser.”

“The Empire has always believed in strong armaments for large transports,” Captain Wu replied. “Birkenhead is a very expensive ship with billions of pounds worth of equipment and supplies, not to mention the passengers. Any pirate who captured us could establish his own colony on some obscure planet. So we make sure we can defend ourselves. Colonial Service ships often go to places where naval patrols are light and infrequent.”

“Quite so,” Major Duncan added. “There are hundreds of independent worlds and minor alliances that would not hesitate to grab a target like us. Fortunately it would take a battle cruiser or several heavy cruisers to overwhelm us and in that kind of action, the ship would probably be destroyed along with its cargo.”

“We will have a Naval escort out of the system, but none when we come out of star drive near Stahlhem. There are some nasty little worlds in the area that might take a chance at a lightly armed ship. So we will be on full alert when we come out of star drive.”

“We will be training ships crews on manning the guns while we are enroute, but the bulk of our training will be on shipboard combat. Of course, projectile or energy weapons would be too dangerous for either side to use aboard a ship, so we will train on stunners, sleep gas and edged weapons. That’s what any boarding party would use as well.”

Duncan glanced around to ensure the doors were closed and continued in a softer voice. “Of course, our real worry is the Ventans aboard ship. They are a nasty bunch and wouldn’t hesitate to try to take over the ship while we are coasting into the Stahlhem system. We have their area well sealed off, but we’ll have plenty of armed crew members and Marines ready if they try something.”

I nodded. “Good precautions. I might be able to help a bit with the training, through my experience is mostly ground combat, not shipboard fighting.”

Duncan grinned. “Don’t’ be modest; I’ve seen your ratings in hand-to-hand and edged weapon combat.”

I laughed. “I’d forgotten that my erstwhile buddies in the Federation Army sent you blokes my whole military history. Sure, I’ll be happy to help in the training, but unless things get really bad, I probably should stick to patching up the wounded. And I am going to train some of the crew on emergency medical treatment as well.”

We talked some more about training and swapped a few war stories and I ambled on back to the Nursery. I was only about 50 meters from the entrance when I got a frantic call from Beverly. “Grandpa, there is a massive fight going on among the girls in the Nursery and Amber and Teri are involved in it too.”

When I got to the entrance, Beverly met me looking much the worse for wear with her uniform disheveled and a few scratches and bruises on her face.

“What is going on, child? “ I demanded. I could her the yelling and sounds of a a fight though the intercom.

Beverly had obviously been crying. “I don’t know what started it, but a couple of girls had an argument and started hitting each other, then the other girls got into it and Amber and Teri tried to stop it and they got attacked too and now everybody’s fighting.”

I stepped into the main room and saw bedlam. Girls were punching, kicking, scratching and wrestling all over the room, which was in a shambles. In my best parade ground voice, I bellowed, “EVERYBODY FREEZE RIGHT NOW!!”

It took a few seconds, but the room calmed down and I looked around at fourteen naked or nearly naked girls entangled with each other, the furniture and the remains of their clothing. I finally spotted Amber and demanded, “Young lady, what is the meaning of this? This is supposed to be a Colonial Service transport, not a flaming kindergarten sandbox. “

Amber was crying too and had scratches, smudges and bruises all over her body, which was, as usual, bare. “Donna hit Teri, so I hit Donna and then Kelly hit me and….and…and...” her voice trailed off.

Teri chimed in, “I tried to pull Donna off of Nancy and she hit me in the nose and I just lost it.” Her nose was still bleeding a bit and she was wearing the fragments of what had been her uniform pants. Her breasts were bare and there was what looked like a bite mark on one nipple, which was also bleeding slightly. The rest of the girls were in about the same shape. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be seriously hurt.

“All right, children,” I said. “Move all this furniture and other debris against the wall and line up in front of me so that I can check out the damage. Ensign Wilson, get me my medical kit and set it up on this table.”

The girls scrambled to clear the area of debris and sheepishly lined up in front of me for examination, looking like a bunch of five-year olds caught in mischief. None of them seemed to have any major injuries, so I sprayed medskin on the scratches and scrapes, cauterized bleeding with my laser scalpel and wiped off the worst of the blood and dirt. Two of the girls appeared to have wrist injuries and one complained of knee pain, which I decided to look after later in the clinic.

“Now all of you children go and take a quick shower and be back here in ten minutes lined up in order of age,” I growled. “And, Teri, take off what’s left of your pants and toss them in the trash. Now all of you, MOVE!”

Amber started for our quarters, but I pointed to the community shower, smacked her bottom and told her to go with the other children. I told Beverly to pack up the medical gear and bring me the plastic paddles.

“All right, then,” I said. “Now each of you bend over and grab your ankles. I want to see fourteen bare bottoms ready for your spankings.”

They complied, not without some sniveling and whimpering, which I ignored. Amber was second in line, Teri, near the middle, but they were not to be spared their just desserts. Beverly and I grabbed the plastic paddles, which I knew would deliver a nasty sting but not bruise. I walked up to the first girl and gave her five hard smacks on her bare bottom, which turned pink immediately and produced several yelps. Then I want on to Amber and did the same. When I got to the third girl, Beverly followed with her own paddle and smacked each girl five more times.

We repeated this procedure five time, so each girl got fifty good smacks and fourteen bottoms were bright red. All the girls were crying by now but only one of them lost bladder control during the mass spanking. Beverly cleaned her up without comment, but the poor girl’s face was as red as her well-spanked bottom when she finished. When the loudest bawling had died down and the girls had mostly composed themselves, I had the line up again and marched them out for lunch as it was nearly noon time.

Passing crew members were much amused as fourteen red-bottomed girls were marched down the hundred meters or so of hallways to the Middies Mess. I actually marched them around the long way so as to get maximum exposure and reinforce the lesson learned. Beverly and I walked alongside the red-faced and red-bottomed group, “encouraging” them with occasional random swats with our paddles, which brought forth more yelps and gasps from the group of naughty girls.

For some reason, all of the girls chose to remain standing while they ate their lunches. This saved them some discomfort, but exposed their bottoms to more of their contemporaries, who seemed to take great delight in seeing their mates in distress. There were a few actual remarks directed at the hapless girls, but their supervisors reminded them that THEIR bottoms could be the same colour if they kept teasing their mates in that fashion.

After lunch, we marched the girls back to the Nursery, exposing them, of course, to a different group of crew members who could not help smiling at their predicament. (After this incident, my crew became widely known as “Rogers’ Red Tails, much to their dismay. And other supervisors would say things like, “If you don’t start behaving, I’m going to send the lot of you to Col Rogers to learn to act like young ladies.”)

The rest of the day was spent in cleaning up the main room. Dinner was, of course, a repeat of lunch, but most of the redness had subsided by then, albeit I found it necessary to “refresh” the colour on a few bottoms. Some children are slower learners than others. I never did discover what had sparked the original fight and didn’t much care. But there was no more fighting in my Nursery ofr over a month into the voyage.

END of Chapter 11

(The End)