Posted by Extranjero on June 08, 2007 at 12:33:33:
WAR WIDOWS (Part 4)
Just as Becca had foreseen, the debrief wasn’t going very well.
She and her crew were lined up on the parade ground. They still wore their cropped tee-shirts and berets. But their trunks and panties lay where they had dropped them, and each girl’s hands were clasped coyly to her groin.
"So …" drawled Anna, pacing round behind them. "You had her in her sights … and let her go." The Sea Watch crew stared fixedly ahead, their pursed lips trembling. It wasn’t just the sticky heat that made them drip with sweat.
Anna was in uniform – black crop top and tight shorts. Despite the heat, she wore black gloves as well. She had her hair in a French braid, and her winsome face was haughty. The dagger that she carried flashed bright silver in the sun.
"Attention!" she barked suddenly, and the girls stiffened their backbones, uncovering their pussies as their arms went to their sides. They all had tits like melons underneath the skimpy tee-shirts and they stuck them out obediently. But Anna was admiring each girl’s arse.
Becca swallowed hard as the Brigade-Leader passed her backside. "Begging your pardon, Miss …" she croaked. "We did our job. The Tigresses messed up."
Anna paused. Her pale blue eyes regarded Becca’s neck. They were cold as frost, despite the noonday glare. The fine hairs rose on Becca’s nape, but she kept her posture rigid.
"Don’t bore me with excuses," Anna said.
The weapon she was holding was a ceremonial dagger with the Guard insignia and Commanders’ seal. She touched it to her smirking lips, then pricked the captain’s buttock. Becca gave a little squeak and bit her own lip shut.
Anna moved on down the row, gently stroking the cold steel across the peachy bottom of each trembling girl. "Oh, the Tigresses will pay," she told them lightly. "They’ll be the vanguard of our next attack. But what am I going to do with you young ladies? There’s no point in a Sea Watch that flies round with its eyes shut."
"May I speak, Miss?" blurted Karen, the new observer. Like Becca she was small but pert, with short brown hair and rimless spectacles. Anna stopped behind her back. "I’m listening," she murmured. Karen didn’t turn her head, but her face grew vehement.
"I had the contacts fixed, Miss, but the Captain missed her chance. She didn’t give the Tigress unit enough guidance."
Becca’s feline eyes grew wide, and she turned to stare at Karen. Her stupefaction turned to outrage.
"Eyes front, Captain Parmar!" Anna snapped.
The prim observer kept on facing forward. "We could have tracked the fugitives," she said. "But the Captain turned for home, and I lost contact. She didn’t even use our napalm bombs …"
Anna nodded thoughtfully. Her cool gaze flicked to Becca. The captain’s shoulders were thrust back, her fists clenched at her sides. Her petite frame was trembling very slightly, in a spasm of pent-up fury – or of fear.
"That sounds rather negligent," purred Anna. The observer wet her lips and seized her chance. "Perhaps Miss, if you could … debrief me further … I can show you why we failed – and who’s to blame."
Becca bit her lip to keep from cursing. The little bitch was covering her arse. Leaving Becca and the rest without their knickers. Maybe Karen even meant to have her job.
Anna pondered briefly, then gave Karen’s rump a slap. "Run along then, Ensign. You know where my quarters are." Karen bobbed her head and scurried over to the barracks. Becca gave her shapely butt a baleful sidelong glare.
"The rest of you can stay out here awhile and top your tans up." Anna came back along the line, still toying with her blade. She paused at Becca’s shoulder. "I’ll be back to deal with you." The words were meant for all of them, but her soft breath stirred the hairs on Becca’s neck.
She sauntered off and disappeared into the whitewashed building. Becca pouted with unease. Her tee-shirt was translucent, soaked with sweat. A couple of Guards were looking on, enjoying their discomfort. Their own tee-shirts and shorts were black, and they both had rifles slung below their breasts. The M16s belied their idle postures. If Becca’s girls stepped out of line, they would be executed on the spot.
Becca didn’t meet their gaze. She simmered with frustration. A trickle of sweat ran down her nose, but she didn’t dare reach up to wipe it off. Her eyes flicked to the balcony that fronted Anna’s quarters. The full-length windows stood wide open and the net curtains hung motionless. The room beyond was dark, but she could picture what was happening. Was Anna in a giving or receiving mood this time?
After quite a while, one of the lovers starting panting. The rhythmic sound grew louder, with a bleating undertone. Becca felt a pang of lust, despite her situation. Was Karen faking it – or was her boss about to come?
The gasping reached a climax and both lovers screamed aloud. Anna was venting her delight as a massive orgasm flooded through her groin. But as she came, she thrust her dagger into Karen’s body, which explained the anguish in the small girl’s cry.
The intermingled, sobbing wails trailed off. There was a pause. Becca’s heart beat heavily, but she felt a queasy flicker of relief. And more than that, an urge to touch her pussy: a life-affirming need to stick her fingers in her herself.
She kept her hands clenched at her sides. The Guards stood watching smugly. Then Anna stepped onto the balcony. She was nude apart from her black gloves, and her skin was flushed and sweaty. The silver dagger dripped with blood. She raised it to her lips and licked the blade.
"She didn’t taste as sweet," she called to Becca. Her breasts heaved as she got her breath, then dangled as she leaned across the rail. "Debriefing over. Get them on." She smiled with blood-glossed lips. Becca shuddered briefly with repulsion and desire.
"You’re lucky, Captain," Anna said as Becca pulled her briefs up. "Your failed mission doesn’t matter now. We’ve got a lead on the Widows’ secret airbase – and it looks like Gemma’s going to go straight there."
* * *
Leilani stumbled, caught hold of a tree and slumped against it. Her pent-up grief burst like a dam. She sobbed her heart out, clinging to the trunk.
Gemma hung back awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She glanced upslope, the way they’d come, but nothing stirred amid the foliage. The plane had banked away, and its relentless snarl had faded. The Tigress troop weren’t following. The forest whooped and chattered to itself.
Her leotard was soaked with sweat, her blonde hair dark and tangled. She was queasy with reaction and not far from tears herself. Tucking her pistol down into the gap across her midriff, she moved up cautiously and hugged Leilani from behind.
There was nothing to be said. She cooed and whispered wordlessly. Leilani shook in her embrace until her tears ran dry. The warmth of Gemma’s breasts against her back was little comfort, but the girl’s compassion kept her from collapse.
Then, amid the forest sounds, the two girls heard a sharp, metallic click.
Leilani tensed in Gemma’s arms. They felt each other’s heartbeats. But neither girl could reach her gun. A rustling of leaves came from behind them. Leilani’s head stayed bowed, her forehead resting on the tree trunk. Gemma looked round guiltily, as if someone had caught her making love.
A slim girl had emerged out of the undergrowth behind them. Her pint-sized frame contrasted with the heavy sub-machine gun in her grip. Her shirt and shorts were jungle green, and her hair was blonde and boyish, with a parting on one side. She wore a pair of gold-rimmed shades.
Gemma gave a sigh and smiled wanly. "Hi, Susanna. Sorry to interrupt your sentry-go."
The girl’s mouth opened in an O and the sub-machine gun wavered. Then she swung it skywards and plucked off her shades, revealing wide blue eyes. Leilani risked a sidelong glance, her own eyes gleaming wetly. The weapon was an M1 Thompson.
"Gemma, you’re alive!" the sentry squeaked.
"Just about," said Gemma, as she gently disengaged from the embrace. Susanna seemed elated, but her face fell for a moment, and Leilani glimpsed a flash of jealousy.
"This is Leilani," Gemma said. "She saved my life, Suze – and she lost a friend."
Leilani sniffed and straightened up. Susanna looked her over, curious now. Her bush shirt was unbuttoned to her cleavage. "We heard the fire-fight," she said, "and that bloody Catalina snooping round."
"They lost us," Gemma said, but she looked back despite herself. Then took and squeezed Leilani’s arm. "Come on, we’d better shift. It’s not far now."
Leilani let herself be led as they went on down the path. The way was steep and twisted. Gemma held on to her arm. Leilani had supported her like that the previous day. Now it was her turn to feel as helpless as a child.
But most of all she felt like she’d been gutted. There was just a gouged-out hollow where she used to feel desire.
"What happened to the others?" asked Susanna, following. Gemma gave her head a shake. "They didn’t make it. We lost friends as well."
Susanna lapsed into unhappy silence as they picked their way downhill between the trees. They were in another valley, deep and narrow. Leilani glimpsed buildings down below, and a long strip gouged out of the greenery.
"There used to be mine workings here," said Gemma. "All forgotten now; that’s why we chose it as a base. See the airstrip? Long enough for Widows." Her voice broke unexpectedly. "I didn’t think I’d see this place again."
They passed an empty building roofed with corrugated iron. The forest was reclaiming it. The windows seemed to stare like mournful eyes. Leilani thought her own eyes must look just as dark and empty. But she glimpsed a shift of shadow. There was someone on the first floor, standing guard.
The runnelled path grew level as they reached the valley floor. More buildings hulked amid the foliage. But Leilani saw another, altogether alien shape, and its forbidding aspect made her come up short.
She realised it was one of the Black Widows, but her fine hairs prickled and her stomach tensed. The black plane had been draped with camouflage netting, like a giant spider caught in its own web. Half-obscured, its outline grew in her imagination. The twin booms were its braced back legs, the crew nacelle its bloated abdomen. And gutsy though Leilani was, she’d always hated spiders. As they moved around the lurking plane, she felt a thrill of visceral disgust.
Like Gemma’s aircraft, this one had a painted figurehead: a dark-haired girl wearing a bra and long, slit skirt. She lay back on a crescent moon. The title was Moonhappy. A brunette dressed just like her was sunbathing on the far side of the plane.
She sat up in her canvas chair as the newcomers appeared, then pulled her shades off like Susanna had. She had a pretty face, despite her dumbfounded expression. Her dark eyes fixed on Gemma. "Oh. My. God."
"Hi Laura," Gemma said. "I made it back."
The girl rose gracefully and came towards her. "We thought we’d lost you, Gem. Thank God you’re safe." Her features were composed again, and her gushiness rang hollow. She had a snooty aspect that Leilani didn’t like.
But the pair of them embraced and held on tightly. Laura’s bra was strapless and her upper body gleamed with suntan oil. The long, hip-hugging skirt she wore was slit up to the waistband. Leilani couldn’t help but picture her in Gemma’s bed.
Her cheeks flushed and she glanced away. Susanna looked on, pouting. The sense of pent-up passion only emphasised Leilani’s loneliness. Gemma had said she’d had to sleep with all her fellow pilots. Obviously Susanna didn’t want to be left out.
Gemma sniffled, drawing back, and Laura teased the tangles from her fringe. Then the dark girl’s gaze switched to Leilani. It was supercilious look. "So who’s our guest?" she said.
"Her name’s Leilani," Gemma said. "She’s a renegade like us. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here now."
Laura raised an eyebrow, then remembered her good manners and gave Gemma’s friend a condescending smile. "We’re in your debt, Leilani," she said smoothly. Her gaze moved to the ridge above them. "We heard the shooting, Gem. Were you pursued?"
"Yeah," said Gemma, "but we shook them off."
"But that Black Cat was circling – I hope it didn’t spot us." Laura frowned reproachfully. "You might have led them here."
Gemma’s cheeks grew paler. "Yes, you’re right – I should have let myself get killed. Or maybe saved my arse and done a runner. Either way, you would have got the squadron for yourself."
Laura gasped as if the blonde had slapped her. Leilani was bewildered by the sudden change in tone. Susanna bit her lip but made no comment. Gemma’s eyes flashed sharply, and Leilani glimpsed her vixenish white teeth.
"How can you say that?" Laura said, but Gemma shook her head. "Oh, don’t play innocent with me. You want to be in charge, Miss Bossy Boots. Well I’m sorry, but they let me live to fight another day, so you’ll have to stay as second in command."
Laura’s full lip trembled and she turned and flounced away. Gemma glowered after her, but her look was more dismayed than satisfied. Leilani felt more ill at ease than ever. She glanced around and saw more Widows lurking under camouflage nearby.
Two more girls had been lounging in the shade of a veranda, but they came to greet the new arrivals now. As befitted the nose art of their night fighters, they both wore filmy nightdresses which clung alluringly to their damp skin. Gemma forced herself to smile as she made the introductions. Susanna touched her arm and trotted off.
"This is Katie," Gemma said, "and she flies the Virgin Widow." The girl smiled impishly. She was petite, with sly blue eyes and long blonde hair. Her skimpy baby-doll nightie showed off her thighs and cleavage. Leilani didn’t doubt she was as saucy as she looked.
"And Louise flies Nightie Mission," Gemma added. The second girl had long dark hair and luminous blue eyes. She wore a full-length nightdress, though it left her shoulders bare. The silk was pasted to her breasts, with the pink discs of the nipples plain to see.
Leilani still felt ragged and her eyes were full of salt. She watched as Gemma’s erstwhile lovers welcomed her return. But Gemma didn’t let her get forgotten. She took and squeezed Leilani’s hand. "Come on, we need a shower." Leilani sniffed and nodded. She felt buttery with sweat. She glanced back at the ridge again, but it seemed that Laura’s fears had been misplaced.
They left the other pilots and went past the brooding Widows to a small building with woven bamboo walls. The shower heads inside looked old and rusty. Leilani eyed them listlessly and unbuttoned her blouse. Gemma smiled encouragingly as she peeled her leotard off. "It felt like I’d grown into it!" she said. Her large breasts were as lovely as the tight cocoon had promised. But Leilani just felt cold and numb. She pulled her panties down mechanically.
The shower spray was as cool as mountain water. They let it rinse their sweaty curves and beat against their breasts. Leilani tipped her face towards the downpour, as if the flow could wash her grief away. After a while, Gemma moved around behind her and began to comb her fingers through her hair. The blonde girl’s nipples, stiff with cold, poked into her bare back. Leilani kept her dark eyes closed. Any tears she shed were swallowed by the spray.
* * *
Laura sniffled angrily and dabbed at her own tears. How dare the blonde bitch talk to her like that! It was true she’d set her heart on commandeering the squadron, but that was only proper. She was so much more well-bred than Gemma was.
Swallowing, she wiped her cheeks and hoped no-one had seen her. She kept the others cowed with her sophisticated poise. But here behind the barracks she could snivel unobserved – and turn her thoughts towards getting her own way.
Then she heard a footfall and swung round defensively, but her scowl died when she saw it was Susanna. The small blonde guard looked full of sympathy for her mistreatment. And more importantly, she had unbuttoned her bush shirt. The inner arcs of her pert breasts were bared invitingly. Susanna’s face was earnest. "She was horrid to suggest those things," she said.
Laura flicked a tear away and managed a damp smile. She knew she had Susanna’s loyalty. The blonde girl idolised her self-assurance – and loved what Laura did to her in bed. The pilot’s smile became a smirk and she reached behind herself, unfastening her strapless bra and tossing it aside. Susanna’s blue eyes widened, like a child offered a treat. She came to Laura eagerly and began to suck one of her perfect breasts.
* * *
The sun had not yet risen, but the dawn was opalescent and the forest was awake and chattering. Yet the trees around the clearing were still silent, as if the wildlife had fled – or was frozen by the fear of what they saw.
Even Anna felt her nerve-ends tingling as she drove her Black Fox Blazer down the trail. Part of it was just the thrill of a live operation, but there was a twinge of dread as well. Not of the enemy, but of her Lord.
She came out of the trees into the clearing and brought the big car jouncing to a halt. The open space in front of her had once been a rail junction. Now the tracks had been torn up, but the forest hadn’t yet reclaimed the ground. A long green corridor still stretched away into the jungle. And in the hillside to her right, a tunnel gaped amid the foliage.
Anna hesitated for a moment, then dismounted from the vehicle and put her field cap on. There were monstrous shapes deployed around the clearing. Ancient, resurrected tanks, their armour painted black. She knew they’d been called "Shermans" once, but now they were Recluses. No humans rode inside, just robot brains. The things existed to destroy: they were the biggest weapon she could wield. But power-tripping in their wake was one thing. To pass beneath their eyeless gaze was something else again.
Stiffening her spine, she walked towards the tunnel entrance. Two Guards in black berets were waiting there. The nearest tank was shadowed by the overhanging trees. She heard a whining as she passed, and the rounded turret started to traverse. Her heart began to thump, but she kept walking. She almost felt herself being scanned. The Recluse remained inert and let her by.
There was no doubt of her rank, of course. Her cropped tee-shirt revealed it. The Seal of the Commanders was emblazoned on her arm. The Divisional insignia was tattooed above her backside, and she wore a sapphire bellybutton stud.
The Guards watched her approach, but stayed impassive. They were dressed the same as her apart from their berets and shades. Anna might outrank them, but they showed no deference. Tattooed on each girl’s upper arm was the symbol of a key inside a shield.
Anna raised a black-gloved hand and flicked a brisk salute. "Brigade-Leader Tavener," she said. The girls saluted back. They were both with the Shield Section, the Divisional Commander’s bodyguard. They stepped aside for Anna as a coughing roar came from the tunnel’s mouth.
Despite the heat, a sudden chill made Anna’s fine hairs stiffen. It sounded like a beast had woken up. But this noise was mechanical – an engine being started. She peered into the darkness as a steady, squeaking rattle joined the roar.
A murky shape loomed closer, then emerged into the daylight, and she struggled not to back away from it. It was another tank, flat black like the Recluses, but bigger and more menacing. The junction shook beneath its heavy tread. The frontal plate was sloped, as was the armour of the turret, whose shape reminded Anna of the skull of a big cat.
The Command Panther came snorting to a halt and sat there, growling. Anna moistened her pursed lips. She felt a much more penetrating gaze. The Recluses might be murderous machines, but they were lifeless. One of the Commanders was sealed up inside this tank.
She saluted it and dropped her gaze. "All units in position, Lord," she said. "Our scouts report the rebels aren’t expecting an attack. They think our main offensive’s coming from the south."
The Commander’s voice was grave-pit deep. It sounded in her headset and she winced. "I trust our way is paved?" it croaked. She nodded urgently.
"A Nymph unit will take the bridge, and we’ll thrust straight across it. A spur of the old railway leads right up to their base. We can catch the Widows on the ground and capture them intact."
"But not the crews," the thick voice said. "They are unclean. Exterminate them all."