Agnes stood in the cold corridor of the command center, her hands trembling, her heart hammering so violently it felt like everyone in the room could hear it. She couldn’t take her eyes off the metal door at the end of the hall, the one behind which, she was told, the general would appear. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she mentally battled herself, trying to calm the panic rising inside.

It had all started a few days ago. Agnes, a rookie in an elite reconnaissance unit, was full of enthusiasm but lacked an understanding of the strict security protocols. Her commanders had warned her: “No jokes. No deviations from procedure. One mistake could cost lives.” But she had thought she knew better. Her first mistake had been minor—leaving a tablet with encrypted data on a desk during a brief training exercise. Then, trying to impress her peers, she had made an even bigger error: attempting to connect an uncertified device to the communication system to speed up data transmission.

This time, the consequences had been catastrophic. The enemy intercepted part of the unit’s secret operational plans. The duty officers immediately raised the alarm. They had to relocate a whole base with several units because of her stupidity. Millions wasted and opportunities wasted, in the world of military, such failures don’t go unnotices.

Her unit commander called Agnes in. She expected a strict reprimand, but she could not imagine how seriously her mistakes were regarded here, in a world where one wrong move could cost lives.

“Agnes,” the commander said, his voice cold and sharp as steel, when she entered, “you’ve violated security protocol. This isn’t just a mistake. It’s almost treason. Your actions have put dozens of people at risk.”

She tried to explain, but her words caught in her throat. Panic surged within her, her heart raced faster and faster, and her breathing became shallow. She could not meet the officer’s eyes—there was such disappointment there that just one glance made her stomach tighten.

“Now the general will be coming,” the commander continued. “He will discuss this with you. You have fucked up huge. Likely your are facing a tribunal and decades of jail time, that will be the end of your life. The General is the only person who can help you. Sometimes General can have a moment of kind heart, it is known of him. I suggest you listen very carefully, be very respectful and try to get yourself out of this if you will have a chance.”

Agnes felt her insides constrict. A shimmer of hope appeared in her dreadful realization. She wanted to run, scream, disappear—but the door behind which the general now waited was closed, and there was no escape.

She remembered all her mistakes, every detail, every moment of thoughtless action. How she had laughed when connecting the device, never considering the consequences. How she had thought she had everything under control. Now, that thought seemed absurd, almost insane. How could she be so stupid? She felt fear literally paralyze her body: her legs weak, her palms leaving wet marks on her uniform.

The corridor was silent. Only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the pounding of her own heart broke the stillness. She tried to focus, to take a breath—but her chest threatened to erupt in a panicked scream. She knew now that no excuses would save her.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Every step in the hallway echoed like a drumbeat of her fear. Then—a knock at the door. Agnes’s heart jumped into her throat. She heard the general’s heavy boots on the concrete floor.

“Agnes,” the general said, his voice low and gravelly, as if he were used to keeping everyone under constant pressure. “You know your actions have had consequences.”

She nodded, unable to speak. Her throat was dry, her eyes stinging with tears she dared not shed.

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” the general continued. “You violated security rules. You acted recklessly. In these conditions, a single misstep can cost the lives of your comrades.”

Agnes felt her hands shake, her muscles tighten with tension, her fear growing to fill every corner of her mind.

“I understand…” she whispered almost inaudibly, “that I’ve ruined everything…”

“Understanding comes too late, Agnes,” the general said.

The general remained silent for a few seconds, evaluating her reaction, before stepping closer. His gaze was impenetrable, cold as steel.

Agnes stood, paralyzed. She felt time slow to a crawl. Every breath was a struggle, every moment unbearable. She realized she could no longer act carelessly in this environment. Her inner conflict reached a peak: fear, shame, regret, the urge to flee—all tangled into one suffocating knot that gripped her chest.

Agnes’s chest heaved as the general leaned back slightly, his gaze cold and unyielding. The weight of authority in the room pressed down on her like steel. He spoke slowly, deliberately, letting every word land like a hammer.

“The situation you created is severe,” he said. “A tribunal. decates in prison, in the strictest facility. You’ll face isolation, constant surveillance, and a regimen designed to break you mentally and physically. There is no leniency there.”

Agnes felt as though the ground had vanished beneath her. Prison.. the thought alone made her stomach twist into knots. She imagined the relentless confinement, the cold concrete, the endless monotony, the total loss of control over her life.

“I’m so sorry” – she whispered, her voice trembling.

The general’s eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing and intense. “Lucky for you, you come from a respected family in the military. I might be able to pull some strings with the committee. In our world, we take care of our own. Your family name might just get you some privileges that others don’t have.

But make no mistake, it won’t be easy. I’ll have to make some calls, do some favors. I can try to get you out of the tribunal, lessen the blow, but you need to understand—you won’t walk away scot-free. Everyone has to face the music. If you go this route… you’ll have to ‘sit on the bottle.'”

Agnes’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind spun, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “Sit… on the bottle?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper, laced with confusion and a growing sense of dread.

The general’s expression remained stoic, his eyes cold and unyielding.

“It’s a tradition in the army, a way to teach idiots like you a lesson. Many have sat on that bottle, and many more will. It’s a rite of passage, a reminder of the consequences of your actions. That’s how we do things here, Agnes. That’s how you’ll pay for your mistakes.”

“But what does it mean?” – Agnes whined.

General rolled his eyes: “Oh you dont even know. What do they teach in bootcamps these days? It means exactly how it sounds – you will impale your fat idiot ass on a bottle. It’s agonyzing, degrading, and designed to make you obey and submit. You’ll have to endure it. That’s the cost of avoiding the tribunal.”

Agnes’s heart pounded in her chest as the reality of her situation sank in. The general’s words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power he held and the choices she had to make. The room felt colder, the weight of her decisions pressing down on her like a physical force. She knew she had to make a choice, one that would define her future and the extent of her suffering.

Agnes felt a wave of panic surge through her. Her hands trembled, her vision blurred, and tears threatened to spill. Her thoughts spiraled: *How could this exist? How could they do this?* Fear and shame collided in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She felt small, exposed, completely powerless.

Her emotions overwhelmed her, and she sank to the floor for a moment, covering her face with her hands. The thought of what the punishment entailed made her stomach churn violently. Every instinct screamed to flee, to reject it, to refuse. But deep down, she knew that refusing the second option meant the tribunal—the ten years in strict confinement. That thought alone extinguished any chance of rebellion.

The general’s voice cuts through the silence with a sharp, unyielding edge. “Agnes, listen carefully. This is your choice, and you have two options. You can face the tribunal, which guarantees ten years of incarceration, or you can choose to endure a different form of discipline.

The tribunal offers certainty, but it also offers a sentence that will define your future. Choosing this alternative path gives you a chance to survive, to endure, and perhaps to reclaim some dignity later. You have the option to make this decision, but remember, the consequences of your actions are irreversible.”

He leans forward, his gaze intensifying. “But let me be clear, Agnes. The bottle i have for you is not small. Taking into account your petite frame, it will stretch your tight little asshole beyond your limits. The pain will be agonizing, it is a self inflicted torture. It will test every ounce of your endurance. This is not a mere discomfort; it is a brutal, degrading experience that will push you to the very edge of your sanity. And you must chose this voluntarily, with full understanding of the horrors that await you.”

Agnes has never experienced anal sex and nothing has ever penetrated her anus, not even a finger. Is she ready to sacrifice her anal virginity in such a brutal and extreme way?

The general’s expression remains stern, his eyes unyielding. “You must plead for this chance, knowing that it will be not only humiliating but also insanely painful. It will stretch you, tear you, and leave you in agony. Are you prepared for that?”

Agnes, her face streaked with tears, nods resolutely.