Posted by Extranjero on June 04, 2007 at 11:55:32:
WAR WIDOWS (Part 2)
The girl called Anna lay curled up in crisp white linen and unsullied dreams.
The room was dim, sealed off from the dawn sunlight, except for dazzling chinks in the drawn blinds. The big bed was mahogany, a colonial antique. The air was dense and hot. The girl slept nude.
Anna’s golden hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her blank face looked as guileless as a child’s. A battered teddy bear was snuggled up against her cheek.
A holstered pistol dangled from the bedhead frame.
A cautious knock came at the door. Her pale blue eyes blinked open. She twisted round and raised herself, then drew the sheet over her well-shaped breasts. "Yes?" she called in a sharp tone, already wide awake. Poppy paused and then came in, her features china-pale in the dim light.
"Excuse me, Brigade-Leader," she said meekly. "Captain Parmar from the Watch is here to be debriefed."
Anna raised an eyebrow like the haughty private schoolgirl she had been in her forgotten other life. "Better show her in," she said. Poppy moved towards the window. "Leave the blinds," said Anna flatly. "We won’t need much light for this."
Her aide poured a cup of water from the stone jug on the nightstand and Anna took it with a grunt of thanks. Then Poppy went back out. The mansion was already stirring. Anna took a sip of water. So began another day of power.
Another knock. Her eyes flicked to the doorway. Captain Parmar waited there, her back straight and her ample breasts thrust out. The cropped tee-shirt and trunks outlined her firm, voluptuous figure. The blue beret sat squarely on her bob of bleached blonde hair.
"Welcome, Becca." Anna smiled and set her cup aside. Her free hand kept the sheet in place. "Come in and close the door."
The Watch girl did so and the room grew dimmer. What light there was reflected off her tee-shirt and pale hair. Her tanned skin had an olive blush, and her dark eyes gleamed like toffee. She cleared her throat. "Permission to report?"
"You’re here for a debriefing," Anna murmured. Her voice was soft and pitiless. "What are you waiting for?"
Becca hesitated, then began to take her boots off. "We caught one of the Widows, Miss," she said. Her tone was deferent and yet defiant. "The Lady in the Dark. We brought her down."
Anna stared at her and didn’t answer. The Captain looked a little piqued. She’d been expecting praise. Her breasts swelled as she bent to pull her trunks down. Her gaze flicked up to Anna, but the girl still kept her peace.
Becca slid her briefs off to reveal a pubic puff that was as smoky dark as her dyed bob was fair. She crossed the room, less certain now, and climbed onto the bed, one knee on either side of Anna, staring down.
Anna looked up smugly from the pillow. "That’s Gemma’s aircraft. So the bitch is dead?" She raised herself before Becca could answer, clasping the Captain’s buttocks as she started licking her.
Becca gasped and pushed her pelvis forward. Her mouth had gone as dry as ash. "I’m not sure … but she might have got away."
Anna kept on teasing her plump labia for a moment, then drew her head away and licked her lips. She peered up unblinkingly and Becca’s heart strings trembled. Behind those schoolgirl eyes, she knew, was a remorseless mind.
"Go on," Anna said and started tonguing her again. A sticky glow began to build in Becca’s groin. Perhaps it was the sense of threat that sharpened her excitement, like the wild thrill of a roller-coaster ride.
"She came down in the wetlands," she said tightly. "The Widow’s been destroyed … I watched it burn ..." She had to pause, but Anna kept on licking, and Becca almost clutched at her superior’s bobbing head. Remembering herself, she clasped and squeezed her own full breasts. They had grown tender and the tips were button-hard.
"I put four girls down …" she went on "… and she killed all of them. We couldn’t find her in the reeds … I’m sorry, Miss … But she won’t fly again …"
Becca was panting now, her body rocking on her knees, but Anna’s tongue flicked at her clit relentlessly. The Catalina pilot grimaced, struggling to hold on, and then succumbed to orgasm with a tearful whoop. She flopped back on the bed and Anna scrambled after her, still lapping at her pussy till the Sea Watch girl convulsed and slumped inert.
Anna raised her head and smiled slyly. Her lips were slick with Becca’s lube. She licked it off. "I love breakfast in bed." Becca gasped for breath and didn’t answer. Anna sat up on the bed. Her sweet face grew disdainful once again.
"So you lost the traitor leader, then … along with half your crew." Her voice was calm, almost off-hand, but Becca’s glowing belly filled with ice. She raised her head, her full lips pursed in sudden apprehension. Anna stared down coolly, and then snatched her pistol like a striking snake. Before Becca could close her thighs, the gun was poked between them. She felt a ring of steel around her throbbing clitoris.
Anna’s smile was like a spiteful schoolgirl’s. First she’d made the Captain melt, and now she’d frozen her. And that was just a fraction of the power she could wield. Becca stared back, open-mouthed, then whimpered as the pistol poked inside.
Anna let her quiver for a moment, and then reluctantly withdrew the gun. "It’s a good job that you taste so nice," she told the gasping Watch girl. "Now get your knickers on and find the bitch."
Becca did so hurriedly and scuttled from the room. Anna smirked and settled back, her gun hand resting idly in her lap. She picked up the old teddy bear and hugged it to her bosom, then raised the gun and slowly licked it clean.
* * *
"I wasn’t expecting guests," said Lena dryly. "If I’d known, I would have made more rice!"
Leilani’s smile was tired but fond. "You know what they say, love. It’s justice to defend a poor widow."
"She’s a widow?" Lena sauntered down the temple steps. She wore a sleeveless cropped tee-shirt and a sarong. Her long black hair was ragged, giving her a Gypsy look, but her dark colouring offset her clear blue eyes.
"I guess she’s over the first phase of mourning," she went on. Gemma pouted at her tone. Leilani simply shrugged. Lena came and kissed her on the mouth, ignoring Gemma. She would have done it anyway, but all three girls knew what point was being made.
The blonde girl looked around her in discomfort. The temple was a ruin. Creepers trailed across its stones. The jungle was reclaiming it like living camouflage. A brooding statue seemed to watch her through the leaves.
"She’s a pilot – of a Black Widow," Leilani said to Lena. "She dropped in on my fishing, you could say." Her smile faded. "A Sea Watch plane came down to try and get her. I fought them off, but maybe they’ll be back."
Lena’s eyes filled with concern. She squeezed her girlfriend’s arms. "Are you okay?" Leilani’s nod didn’t seem to reassure her. "You should have kept your head down, sweet. We’ve left that world behind."
"Yeah," Leilani said, "we did. But we didn’t leave ourselves. Lena, this is Gemma. She’s a pilot with the rebels. I’d have saved her even if she didn’t have fantastic tits."
The compliment was genuine despite the irony, and Gemma blushed a fetching shade of pink. Lena smiled and shook her hand. "A pilot, huh? That’s something. Tell us more while we have supper. And I must admit, those boobs are rather nice."
* * *
"So the war’s got close again," Leilani said after they’d eaten. "Perhaps it’s time we thought of moving on."
"It’s just a storm on the horizon," Lena muttered. "Maybe it’ll miss us – or blow over and go rain on someone else."
Gemma stared into the fire, still chewing. The golden flicker lit her face, but her perky features had grown pensive now. "It’s a storm, all right," she said after a moment. "But the thunderclouds are made of fire. They’ll burn this jungle down to get at us."
"Us being your rebel friends," Leilani countered. She was wearing a flimsy cotton gown that hinted at the nudity beneath. "But Lena and I are nothing to them: just two ants in a garden. This wilderness won’t change, whoever wins."
Gemma hugged her drawn-up knees. "They want me, though," she murmured. "If I stay here, I’ll be putting you at risk. And I have to get back to my girls. We’ll face this thing together. I’d be grateful for some water, and the Sten. That’s all I need."
Leilani glanced at Lena, who just shrugged and took a slow sip of rice wine. "So how will you find the airstrip, then?" Leilani said to Gemma. It was the blonde girl’s turn to shrug. She pouted miserably.
Leilani had a feeling she’d regret this. She and Lena were still safe. They’d found a refuge from a hostile world. But Gemma’s plight appealed to her best instincts. And the prospect of a mission spoke to baser ones as well.
Though she hated to admit it, she’d enjoyed the fighting life, and the exhilaration of the dance with death. Catching fish or hunting fowl could not compete with it. So would she sit here and stagnate – or take some risks?
Her gaze went back to Lena, but she didn’t need to speak. Her lover gave an exaggerated sigh. The resignation wasn’t feigned, and yet her eyes were gleaming. It wasn’t just Leilani who was getting bored with life.
Gemma looked from one girl to the other. A tremulous smile of hope grew on her face. "I guess you’ve found some guides," Leilani told her. "And you didn’t even have to sleep with us."
* * *
The charge nurse heard the Catalina landing, but she was busy with a patient so did not go out to look. "It’s a Sea Watch plane," a student nurse reported with excitement. The charge nurse was unfazed by that, though she hadn’t long been qualified herself.
By the time she had emerged on the veranda, the Cat was moored and its crew were climbing out. They came along the jetty, looking fabulously butch in their blank shades and skimpy tee-shirts and tight trunks. They brought their guns with them, but there was no cause to be worried. The charge nurse felt impatient. She had had a trying day.
The river here was broad and brown and sluggish. The forest whirred with crickets round the little hospital. The charge nurse pushed a curl of damp blonde hair under her cap. She was wearing a white apron and had nothing but her panties underneath. A concession to the heat, but there were still proprieties. The nurses’ briefs must be plain white, with no lace trim or other frippery.
The red cross on her apron was drawn taut by her firm breasts. She peeled her latex gloves off, pouting, as the Sea Watch officer came up.
"What can we do for you, Miss?" she asked tartly.
Becca took her mirrored shades off, hooking them into her tee-shirt neck. "We’re looking for a pilot who crashed somewhere in the marshes. She might be hurt. Have you heard anything?"
The charge nurse shrugged dismissively. "We’ve seen no-one out here. Just Rivermaids …"
"The Amazons."
"They don’t like to be called that," sniffed the nurse.
"They should be in the Communes," Becca muttered. "You know it’s for their own good. They could be confused with rebels otherwise …"
One of the students piped up at the snooty nurse’s elbow. "Lena and Leilani might have seen your pilot, Miss."
Becca smiled sweetly and the fresh-faced student blushed. "So who might those two be, when they’re at home?"
"They’re huntresses," the student said, "living deeper in the forest. But they often catch fish in the wetlands, Miss."
"Do they? Well we’ll have to check them out," said Becca briskly. She turned back to the charge nurse. "Guess you’ve had a heavy day."
"You could say that," the girl said with a self-important air.
"Well so have I," said Becca, "and I need to take it out on somebody."
She drew her pistol as she spoke and shot the snotty cow through her red cross. The charge nurse reared back with a gasp, a horrified expression on her face. Becca switched her aim and shot the student in the brow. The startled girl threw back her head and spattered the veranda wall with blood. She crumpled with a boneless grace and the Sea Watch team moved forward, their Sten guns chattering in short, sharp bursts. The other nurses’ shock had turned to terrified dismay, but there was nowhere they could hide and no escape. The bullets ripped into their aprons, dyeing them bright red. Nurses clasped their bellies or clawed blindly at their breasts. One girl writing at her desk just sat there, open-mouthed until a Watch girl gutted her with one quick burst. "Awwghh!" the nurse cried out. Her head banged down onto the desktop, so it looked as if she’d dozed off at her post.
A few feverish young Amazons were slaughtered in their beds. Their naked bodies bucked and writhed in the gauzy shrouds of their mosquito nets. The rattling gunfire petered out; spent shells bounced off the floorboards. Becca sniffed the cordite reek that blotted out the antiseptic smell.
She glanced round at the slumped, half-naked nurses. They’d died with their briefs on. Matron would approve. Holstering her gun, she jerked her head towards the seaplane. "Good work, girls. Now let’s go run those huntresses to ground."