Mercenary by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online

does not refuse such permission, ever—but the forms are scrupulously honored, and I believe it is right that they are. Only an ignorant person would believe that the military service is a profession of physical violence; it is, in fact, a profession of social violence, at least in the training stage. The recruit's soul, not his body, is abused, generally. So this woman requested my permission before she touched me, but I was not wearing a belt or buckle for inspection at the moment.
    “Yes,” I said somewhat harshly, for my throat was tight.
    She knelt before me and took hold of my member. She kneaded it delicately. She knew what she was doing; obviously she had had much experience. But there was no response, for my mental control, buttressed by my genuine aversion to the proceedings, remained in effect. I was impotent—and therein lay my true potency.
    She got up, her lip curling with disgust. “Okay, soldier, I give up,” she said. She walked to the wall and touched a button. “I'm buzzing the supe; she knows how to handle your kind.”
    “My kind?” I asked.
    “The slobs who can't get it up.”
    This creature was not becoming more endearing with familiarity. “As I explained, I am not inclined at the moment.”
    She stared at my member. “Exactly.” The door opened behind me. I half-turned, abruptly embarrassed about my nakedness, but there was no refuge.
    The one who entered was a woman in her twenties, garbed in a kind of off-the-shoulder, half-off-the-breast robe. She was beautiful, with flowing orange hair and a voluptuous body. She took in the situation in an instant. “Leave him to me, June. Take five.”
    “Yes, sir,” the girl said, and quickly donned her negligee and departed.
    Sir? This was an officer! That dismayed me further.
    The woman sat on the bed. “Sit beside me, Private,” she said, patting the bed. “Do not be alarmed.”
    I sat beside her, still conscious of my nakedness. Somehow it was worse to be naked before an officer than before an enlisted girl.
    “You are young, I see,” she said. “Probably admitted underage on a waiver, or by error. Fifteen?”
    “Sixteen, sir,” I said. Growth rates vary, and I am not a large person; still, this too was embarrassing.
    “They wouldn't—”
    “It is all right; I inquired merely as a point of information, not as criticism. I presume you do not want to be discharged on that ground?”
    “No, sir!” I said quickly. “I want to be in the Navy.”
    “Excellent,” she murmured, and I saw how skillfully she was managing me. She had gotten me to agree with her on a matter of substance, and she had couched what could have been a threat in a positive manner. I had good reason to cooperate now. She understood motivation. “Have you copulated before?”
    She had a higher-class vocabulary than did the girl, June! “Yes, sir.” I said.
    “With a woman?”
    I felt the flush starting again. “Yes, sir.”
    “You object to doing it with a stranger?”
    “I—not exactly, sir. I realize the Navy has its requirements. But—”
    “Please speak freely, Private. I'm here to help you.”
    “Sir, it is better if there is love, or at least respect.”
    She smiled, and she was very likeable when she did that. She was the sort of poised woman who could make a man feel at ease, even in a situation like this. “Of course. But that will come in its proper time. For recruits there is only sex.”
    “I would prefer to wait for the proper time, sir.”
    “You are not homosexual?”
    “No, sir!”
    “Or routinely impotent?”
    “No, sir.”
    “You are, then, normally disposed? It is merely the crudity of this introduction that has put you off?”
    “Yes, pretty much, sir.” I was beginning to feel guilty for my obstructionism.
    “Do you understand why we do it this way?”
    “No, not really, sir. It seems to me that—”
    "Several excellent reasons, private. Jupiter does not permit homosexuals of either sex to serve in the armed forces, for