Fort Benning Georgia, 1949

Sergeant William Brody was recalled stateside in 1949. The Army had downsized but Bill had performed well, had distinguished himself in battle and had risen to the rank of Staff Sergeant. The Army was rebuilding. US citizens were afraid of ‘Reds under the bed’ and there was sabre-rattling in Korea.

Bill was assigned to the Infantry School at Fort Benning as a senior Drill Sergeant. Farewelling Heidi Baumgartner in Berlin had been emotional but they both knew that their relationship was temporary. As much as he cared for her, there was no way that Bill was bringing Heidi back to the USA. He cherished her company deeply but every time he saw her son he was reminded of Heidi lying on that bed in the basement under the Russian Command Post servicing an endless stream of Russian soldiers.

Bill never really settled into the peacetime Army and took solace at the local bars and whorehouses but maintained his discipline and exemplary behaviour. All was fine and Bill was looking forward to another posting to a combat unit when Madeline Drinkwater entered his life.

Lieutenant Madeline Drinkwater graduated from the WAC Training Centre Fort Lee in December 1948 with one goal in mind: to marry a senior officer who was going places. Women were being recruited into the regular Army to fill non-combat positions to release men for front-line service. Lieutenant Drinkwater was posted to Fort Benning as an Administration Officer and appointed OIC of the Personnel Office.

Madeline was popular and was chased by most of the line officers at the post but she wasn’t interested in any of the young bucks. She was looking for a full-bird Colonel at least and she had her eye on a few. Her cause would not be helped if she gained a reputation as a ‘bed jumper’ so she behaved herself publicly.

Privately Madeline had a penchant for rough trade, not the fresh-faced young officers and soldiers who were in the majority at Fort Benning.

Staff Sergeant William Brody was just the type she was looking for: a highly decorated combat veteran who was ruggedly handsome, mature and physically fit. She’d seen him in his tight-fitting uniform with his ‘Brown Round’ campaign hat and spit polished boots and she got wet just looking at him.

Madeline was big-breasted, slim-waisted, wide-hipped, long-legged and was incredibly pretty with flaming red hair, full pouty lips, high cheekbones and deep green eyes. Her ‘pinks and greens’ did not conform to the dress manual but no one was going to complain or tell her to dress by the book. Her dress of the day was a forest-green coat tailored to fit her figure with a contrasting light olive-drab coloured skirt with a slight pinkish hue. She wore her skirt just above her knees which was contrary to regulations. The Army issued her beige nylon hosiery and brown leather shoes with low heels but she wore fifteen denier fully fashioned stockings with kitten-heel brown pumps that she purchased herself.

Bill Brody took an instant dislike to Lieutenant Drinkwater. It wasn’t that he believed that women had no place in the Army; in fact he thought the opposite. He’d been impressed by the work carried by the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps in Berlin. But Madeline Drinkwater carried herself with a swagger she didn’t deserve. She’d been in the Woman’s Army Corps less than a dog watch yet she talked like a veteran and was an obvious dilettante.

Lieutenant Drinkwater accepted Bill Brody’s aloofness and hostility as a challenge. When Bill rejected her advances she bombarded him with busywork; a seemingly endless river of paperwork which Bill hated. She found excuses for him to have to report to her office, usually on the pretext of reviewing one of the recruit’s personnel files. These subtle advances were rejected however so Madeline hatched a plan that was a little less subtle. What Madeline wanted Medline got!

Staff Sergeant Brody got the word that he was required to report to the OIC of the Personnel Office at 1830 on Friday when he was freshly showered and shaved and wearing his dress uniform ready for a night on the town. He knew that it would be more busywork involving a pointless review of some jar-head’s personnel file. The rest of the NCOs had left for town when Bill stormed across the parade ground to the Administration Building.

The building was deserted. Being Friday evening the married men were home with their families and the single guys were blowing off steam in the dens of iniquity in Phenix City. The only light came from under the OIC’s office. Bill could smell Madeline's perfume as soon as he walked down the corridor.

When he entered it was if she had staged the encounter, which she had. Madeline had one of her long legs stretched out, her foot on the desk, her skirt hiked up and she was stroking the wrinkles out of her stocking. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs and Bill guessed that those translucent white nylon panties through which he could see her trimmed pubic hair were not regulation.

“Sorry Sergeant, I just can’t keep the wrinkles out of these damn nylons or keep my seams straight. The Army buys such cheap hosiery,” Madeline said by way of explanation as if it was perfectly normal for a female officer to be showing off her undergarments to an enlisted man in a deserted office.

Bill stood at parade rest and admired Madeline’s long coltish leg. She might be an opportunist who was in only the Army to catch herself a trophy husband but she was one sexy woman.

Madeline put her foot down but her skirt remained rucked up on her thighs but she pretended not to notice. Bill also noticed that she’d taken off her jacket and tie and that her shirt was unbuttoned at the neck exposing her décolletage.

“I'm sorry to have to bring you in on a Friday evening but there are some anomalies in these personnel records that we need to address. It could take us quite a while,” Madeline tapped a red-lacquered manicured fingernail on a stack of files and smiled at him wickedly.

Bill had had enough; it was time to get this over with. The bitch wanted to taste a battle-hardened veteran then let her have it and then she might leave him in peace.

“I don’t think we are going to do anything of the sort Ma’am,” Bill sidled up to Madeline and unbuttoned his fly and freed a burgeoning erection.

“What the hell are you doing Sergeant?” Madeline pretended that she was shocked.

She looked at the long thick veiny weapon and licked her lips in anticipation; her panties already damp.

By way of an answer Bill put his hand on the back of Madeline’s head and pushed her face into his groin. She opened her lips and took the proffered phallus in her mouth. Bill looked down at her pretty face, her red lipsticked-lips drawn along his sleek shaft as she suckled him. She worked her tongue on his glans and Bill’s penis grew to full tumescence.

Her mouth was warm and wet and she was good. He could smell her perfume and he saw that she was stroking her cunt through her transparent panties while she sucked his cock. The musk of her sex rose to his nose and he inhaled it and sighed. He enjoyed the feel of her red lips on his cock, her tongue tickling his fraenulum. He gently placed his other hand on her head and guided her face up and down on his big cock.

Madeline had sucked her fair share of cocks but this one was exquisite. Straight from the shower it was clean and tasted a little of Lifebuoy soap and his body smelled of Old Spice aftershave. It helped that Bill was ruggedly handsome and had been elusive. Now that she had him in her mouth she intended to enjoy him. She slavered at his cock whilst she tickled her labia through her silky panties. Her clitoris was distended and ached to be touched but she denied herself that privilege so that she could prolong the encounter.

She took her hand out of her lap and worked at Bill’s belt, unbuckling it and dropping his trousers down around his polished boots. His briefs followed and Madeline was able to cup Bill Brody’s substantial scrotum while she sucked his cock. She stroked his sac and manipulated his testes gently, inducing ringlets of pleasure which combined with the deep carnal delights emanating from his penis. She could feel Bill’s cock trembling in her mouth and guessed that he was about to climax.

Madeline spat out Bill’s penis and leapt to her feet and Bill pulled her in close and kissed her. Her lipstick tasted decadent and wanton, her breath was sweet, her mouth wet and warm. Their tongues intertwined as they groped at each other. Bill’s hand went under her skirt and found her pubis swathed in diaphanous nylon panties that were wet with her secretions. He teased her labia through the gauzy fabric and Medline whimpered into his mouth and squeezed his cock in her soft hand.

He pressed her against the desk, her buttocks resting on the edge as it cut into her ass. She hopped up and Bill helped her so that she was sitting on the desk with her arms draped around Bill kissing him passionately. He groped at her blouse and freed her breasts and she guided his mouth to them. The flesh was soft and creamy, her teats like ripe berries. He lapped at her tits and took her nipples in his mouth and suckled and nipped them gently with his teeth causing Madeline to shudder and groan as waves of pleasure radiated from her bosom.

Madeline wrapped her stocking-sheathed limbs around Bill and pulled him closer and he delighted in the feel of her silky nylons on his flesh. These were no Army issue nylons she was wearing; they were expensive sheer and sexy stockings and he loved them. He ran his hands up and down them as he nursed at her breasts and she delighted in the feel of the Sergeant’s rough hands on her limbs and his lips and teeth on her sensitive teats.

Bill opened Madeline’s labia and was stroking her clitoris through her saturated panties. Fiery circlets of delight spread from her sex into her belly. Bill’s hand stroking her legs was evoking deep sensual feelings and his fingers thrummed her clitty through panties wringing forth wave after wave of pleasure. She tore his face from her bosom and kissed him and he returned the kiss ferociously.

His cock was hard and pulsing in her hand, she could feel the steeliness of it, the manliness of it, the dangerousness of it. She wanted it inside of her.

Madeline opened her legs wide and guided Bill’s cock to her panty-clad mound and eased aside the silky gusset and nestled the head of his penis in her labia. Bill pushed forward and his cock lid into her sultry tight tunnel.

They both moaned into each other’s mouths. Bill’s hand went to her breasts and he tweaked her nipples as he slowly worked his cock in and out of her warm clammy quim. Madeline wriggled her buttocks so that Bill could get all of it inside her and also so that his pubis pressed on her clitoris. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso and let him fuck her.

Being fucked brutally by this manly hero was so much better than the foppish West Pointers who treated her like a porcelain doll. She ripped open his blouse and raked her nails down his chest and her heels down his flanks then she pulled him closer, her silky stockinged limbs caressing his grazed flesh.

Bill liked that she was rough. He didn’t like the woman and the coarser their coupling the better as far as he was concerned. He bit her lip and tweaked her nipples harder, then grazed his fingernails down her breasts. Madeline howled as the stinging pain combined with the lecherous pleasure radiating from her tits and her cunt. She bit him back and smashed her cunt into him, scratching him, encouraging him it ravish her.

He moved his hands to her legs and held them apart and began to fuck her hard and fast, staring into her burning green eyes. He hated this bitch and fucking her like the slattern that she was gave him more pleasure than he thought it would. Her cunt clung to his cock as he thrust is in out of her tight passage. It was like her cunt was reluctant to release his shaft from its tight grip.

“You fucking animal!” Madeline hissed; her eyes bright with lust.

Bill raked his fingers down her legs laddering her stockings and scalding her flesh. She reached for him and brought his face to hers so she could kiss him violently as her orgasm began to build. She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her ass off the desk to meet his thrusts and she sensed that he was close to extremis.

Bill battered her bruised cunt with his aching cock as it began to spew his scalding issue deep inside her. Madeline screamed obscenities around Bill’s kisses, calling him a barbarian and a hoodlum and a predator as her orgasm exploded in a mighty bloom of carnal delight and coursed through her whole body.

And that was when the MPs entered the room.

Madeline cried rape and Bill’s defence was laughed at by the jury members and the military judge. Bill Brody’s defending counsel was atrociously ill prepared and ineffective at the court martial. Madeline presented as a ‘peaches and cream’ ingénue: an attractive, inexperienced young officer who knew so little of the world at large and of the Army particularly. She was easily overpowered by her brutish subordinate as she worked alone in her office that night.

She presented each day very demure, her uniform worn exactly as per regulations and makeup toned down. She cried a lot and made goo-goo eyes at the Judge Advocate, a grey-haired Colonel who she knew was about to make Brigadier General and take up a position in the Pentagon. They would later marry and she would bear him two spoiled brats.

The scratches on her body, her bruised lips and bitten nipples were evidence enough of rape; not to mention her torn clothing and battered vagina. She had defended her virtue valiantly as was evident by the bruises and scratches she had inflicted on Staff Sargent Brody’s body.

The MPs testified that the Staff Sergeant had forced the Lieutenant onto the desk and was holding her down and was raping her while she struggled beneath him and screamed obscenities at him because that was what they thought they saw. During their rounds they had heard Madeline howling and moaning with anguish and she had cried rape when they burst through the door to her office.

Bill didn’t stand a chance and was sentenced to fifteen years at the United States Military Prison, Fort Leavenworth with no hope of parole.

*****

Villawood Montana, 1959

The bullying started six months into the experiment.

Flagg read the men’s diaries every Monday and was pleased with how the Study was progressing. The six men had created their own hierarchy led by William Brody. Bill allowed the men some freedom, letting them wear civilian clothes, live in their own houses, use their first names but he still maintained discipline and structure.

There was friction between Brody and Flintock but that was to be expected as they were both alpha males but Brody maintained his position as the person in charge and exercised his superiority by issuing orders through his ‘company clerk’ Wesley Meakins.

Meakins had assumed some superiority by association, being Brody’s ‘Girl Friday’ which was an interesting choice of words given what Flagg knew about Meakins and the other subjects didn’t. But he was despised by the others for toadying up to Bill Brody.

Flintock and Benning had bonded because of their technical skills and looked down on the others because they were specialists who provided essential services and the others were expendable as far as Flintock and Benning were concerned. Meakins and Steele were considered the lowest in the pecking order because of their roles as clerk and nurse. Snitterman was a good cook which was good for morale but being a clerk was a function that anyone could perform and Steele’s medical prowess was seldom needed although he tended to cuts and bruises and coughs and colds and had once had to stitch up a deep gash on Benning’s forearm.

Whenever menial tasks were required to be completed they fell to Steele and Meakins even though Brody had directed that the tasks should be shared equally. Brody had become broody and aloof. He joined the men for meals and for drinks in the Copperlode Bar but during the day he remained cool and distant.

The men were doing an excellent job maintaining the town and were enjoying their new found but limited freedom. As Flagg had expected, independence and liberty came at a cost. The men enjoyed all the luxuries of free men with the exception of female companionship.

Staff Sergeant Brody had requested that ‘women of ill repute’, meaning prostitutes, be provided now and then but Flagg refused. Part of the study was to see how the men would survive living in isolation with limited freedom but with no means of sexual release.

Flagg also knew that Brody was reading the diaries before they were submitted and he had no real problem with that and as far as Flagg could tell the entries had not been edited or censored. The men expressed their gratitude for the freedoms they had, their secret resentment and jealousies for each other and their anguish at not being able to enjoy the comfort of an intimate other. This was made all the worse by the way Villawood was presented to them.

There was evidence of the fairer sex everywhere: the mannequins in the department store, his and hers ablutions in public places, a playground for children, female clothing and accoutrements in the store. The magazines and lingerie catalogues had been passed around and were now tattered and torn. Flagg refused Brody’s request for more. He wanted the men totally isolated from the outside world but with total freedom inside the fence that separated them form society and emancipation.

Brody had requested the men’s Personnel files and after some rumination Flagg had acquiesced. He wanted to see what Brody would do with the information contained therein.

As for the six inmates, life conformed to their established routines of work, rest, exercise, meals and drinking at the Copperlode Bar in the evenings, telling war stories and embellishing their sexual exploits and of course wishing they had female companionship. Tales of loose women and of girls who had offered their virtue for some scant reward during the war were oft repeated. The men encouraged Brody and Flintock to tell their tales of comfort women and women of pleasure. The idea of having women kept solely for pleasure was intriguing.

Everything changed the day the men went to the department store one Saturday afternoon. The men had been drinking in the Copperlode Bar and someone had suggested that they go to the store to get some new clothes as the ones they were wearing were six months old. Their clothing was clean and pressed, Brody insisted on it, but it was becoming threadbare.

That was another menial task that had fallen on Sam Steele. He had been delegated the task of laundryman as well as having to tend bar in the evenings and weekends.

The men entered the store and the first thing they were confronted with was the two mannequins. The lifelike dolls were a blessing and curse. They were a blessing because they were the only representation of femininity in Villawood and a curse because they reminded the men of what they were missing.

As they stood staring drunkenly at the two lifelike dummies Buddy Flintock remembered what Wesley Meakins had said to Sam Steele the first time they had entered the store.

“You still think Sam could fit into that suit?” Buddy pointed to the blonde haired, long-legged, big-breasted and slim hipped mannequin wearing the dark pencil-skirted suit.

“With a little help I’m sure he could,” Wesley giggled.

“Oh come on guys knock it off,” Sam dismissed the comment as a jibe and started to walk towards the men’s clothing section.

Victor Benning stepped in front of Sam and blocked his way.

Sam was slightly built, his voice high pitched and almost effeminate. During boot camp he struggled with PT and battlefield training and had been assigned to the medical corps.

“I reckon you could fill that suit nicely,” Victor pushed Sam in the chest towards the mannequin.

“What do you mean with a little help?” Buddy turned to Wesley.

“Well she’d have to put on a wig and some makeup otherwise she’d just be a man in a dress,” Wesley sniggered.

Victor produced a hip flask, took a slug and passed it to Buddy who took a swallow.

“Don’t call me ‘she’! You're the fucking Girl Friday!” Sam sniped at Wesley.

“And I’m not putting on the fucking suit!” Sam wailed.

It may have been Sam’s bellicose attitude, it was certainly the alcohol but it was also a need to bully intimidate that fired Buddy’s resolve to force Sam to wear the suit.

“You're wearing the fucking suit Sam!” Buddy growled.

“Who wants to see Sam wear the suit?” Buddy asked drunkenly.

Victor went along with everything that Buddy did, Wesley was a toady who pretended he was someone special because he worked directly for Brody but the others knew he was a cowardly wuss. Dale Snitterman was the closest that Sam had as a friend but seeing Sam being bullied by the others meant that he was being left alone so he joined the bullies.

They all raised their hands.

“Sergeant! Stop this idiocy please,” Sam turned to Bill Brody and begged.

Bill had little time for any of them but he’d read their diaries and had their personnel files and knew them all intimately. He should have put a stop to it but he found the situation amusing.

“Put the fucking suit on Nurse Steele,” Brody took out his own hip flask and took a slug.

“You guys are joking right? Sergeant? Surely you're joking?” Sam could sense the situation was getting out of hand.

He’d been the butt of their jokes for some time now but this was really going too far.

“Wesley! Help me! Convince your boss that this is just plain ridiculous,” Sam turned to Wesley for help.

“Wesley? You mean fucking Wendy. You can help Sam get into that fucking suit and then you can put on that dress. Then you two ladies can come back to the Copperlode and serve us real men some drinks and snacks,” Brody chuckled and the others joined in.

Except for Wesley Meakins.

He had suddenly become pale and was speechless. Staff Sergeant Brody had called him Wendy. How did he know about Wendy?

Bill Brody turned to Wesley Meakins and hauled him by the collar.

“I know all about you Wendy; now git to gettin’ sissified with your girlfriend here,” Brody hissed in Wesley’s ear but the others overheard and were very interested.

“What’s the story Sarge? Why’d you call Meakins Wendy?” Victor Benning asked.

“Let’s go back to the bar boys and I’ll tell you all about it. You two ladies better show up wearing those fucking clothes or else I’ll beat you into them,” Bill hissed at Sam and Wesley and stormed off followed by the others leaving Sam and Wesley alone in store.

Sam couldn’t believe what was happening. What had he done to infuriate Bill Brody? The others had been teasing him for weeks now and he was used to it but why had Bill turned on him? And what was the story with Wesley Meakins who stood there looking totally dejected.

*****

Majuro Atoll, Marshall Islands - North Pacific, 1944

Wesley Meakins knew that he was gay as soon as he entered adolescence. He’d been an average student and found employment as a bank clerk when he left school with no real ambition other than to live a comfortable life and keep his homosexuality in the closet except for when he met up with his friends at Newport, Rhode Island on the weekends.

He and his friends all stayed at the same hotel which tolerated gay men. Wesley frequented the Pink Parrot nightclub where he performed as a drag queen to supplement his income. Being effete and quite the accomplished mimic, singer and actor Wesley performed as the drag queen Wendy Wayne three nights a week.

When the United States entered the war Wesley wanted to do his part but did not fancy storming beaches or being shelled in a foxhole and so he joined the USN as a clerk. His good fortune prevailed and he was posted to USS Polari an auxiliary repair ship which spent most of its time anchored in Pacific island lagoons following the battle fleet but out of harm’s way.

Being far away at sea USS Polari became a heterotopic space where some men sought the companionship of others. Despite official prohibitions of such behaviour the CO turned a blind eye provided the men carried out their duties to the best of their abilities. The ship was required to remain away from port for extended periods as it was a vital element supporting the fleet and the crew worked long hours under harsh conditions and had little to do in the way of recreation.

The tradition of dressing as women for entertainment, including theatre shows, was more common on ships on boringly long inactive voyages than it was in the army or air force. Wesley Meakins let Wendy Wayne out of the closet and dragged up for concert parties in a troupe of three. He impersonated the singer Ann Sheridan and his two shipmates were Rita Hayworth and Katharine Hepburn.

The ship’s company was amused by the three crossdressers who were very good at their art of female impersonation. The crews of other warships tied up alongside the Polari for periods of maintenance and repair would come on board and attend performances, the sailors eager for any distraction from the long periods of boredom broken by short periods of terror which constituted war at sea.

It was a loose secret that the ‘sea queens’ would offer sexual favours after the show in secluded spaces below decks and many a ‘straight’ sailor succumbed to their feminine wiles. ‘Any port in a storm’ was a phrase often uttered by men starved of female companionship and sexual gratification.

Wesley was enjoying a peaceful war until his good work got him promoted to Petty Officer and a posting to USS Antilles a Lexington Class aircraft carrier where he got a taste of the real war. But being on a ship with such a large crew there were bound to be other homosexuals and Wesley’s ‘gaydar’ soon located another sailor of the same disposition. But it was to be his undoing when a Chief Petty Officer caught the two in flagrante delicto.

Meakins was given the option of paying bribes to the bellicose Chief Petty Officer or being beaten by him and his homophobic buddies and then brought before the mast. Under great duress Wesley stole cash from the Pursers safe and doctored the books to hide his crimes. He got away with it for a while but his crimes were eventually discovered.

His defence at the court martial that he was being blackmailed by a Chief Petty Officer was not considered an excuse and most of the Board found his blatant homosexuality distasteful although some were briefly amused by his anecdotes of performing as Wendy Wayne. It did him little good however and he was sentenced to twelve years imprisonment, the harsh sentence due to the Judge Advocate’s hatred of gay men.

In Leavenworth Wesley kept his homosexuality a secret for fear of being beaten or killed by men who hated faggots although he sometimes found himself on his knees in the ablutions block fellating a bully.

Wesley’s secret life however was fully chronicled in his Personnel file and that file was now in the possession of Staff Sergeant William Brody.

*****

Villawood Montana, 1959

“What the fuck is going on Wesley; I can’t believe this is happening,” Sam stood in the middle of the department store entrance dumbfounded.

“We’re being bullied Sam, that’s what's happening,” Wesley said forlornly.

“The Sergeant knows about my past, that’s for certain,” Wesley sighed.

“Past? What past?” Sam was confused.

Wesley gave a Sam a condensed story of his exploits on board the USS Polari, leaving out the part about having sex with the sailors. He amended and edited the story explaining that he and three others and been performing drag shows on the ship to break the boredom and entertain the ships companies.

“Bill Brody has some files locked in his safe that I can’t access so I’m guessing he has our Personnel files in there,” Wesley opined.

“What has that got to do with anything?” Sam was still confused.

“Don’t you see Sam it doesn’t matter? You and I are the weaklings and those other four men are big and strong and in control and they want us to dress up like women,” Wesley sounded exasperated.

“Dale is my friend,” Sam said pouting like a spoiled child.

“Dale has joined the others. We have no friends. This place is just as bad as Leavenworth. It’s a gilded cage,” Wesley sighed.

“But why make us dress like women?” Sam was still confused.

“To bully us, to mock us, to tease us and to belittle us. It’s just another way of exerting their superiority. They want female company but can’t have it so we will be the next best thing. It was will be harmless fun. We’ll serve them drinks and prance around a bit and they’ll slap our asses and make lewd comments and then we’ll take off our makeup and dresses and everything will go back to how it was,” Wesley began to undress the mannequins, carefully putting the clothing into a shopping trolley.

“They're just blowing off steam and we’re the butt of their jokes,” Wesley reassured Sam but deep inside he didn’t think that was the case at all.

“We gotta get out of here. This is not part of the study… experiment… whatever. We gotta tell Colonel Flagg,” Sam circled the mannequins not paying attention to what Wesley was doing.

“Sam! There is one vehicle in Villawood and Bill Brody has it. There is an electrified fence surrounding the town. The only direct communication with the outside world is the emergency telephone and this ain’t yet an emergency. Now stop flapping around and come help me,” Wesley had taken the pencil-skirted suit and the fitted dress off the mannequins and put them in the cart.

Sam stopped walking in circles and looked up at the mannequins. They looked almost lewd stripped down to their underwear. He stood there gawking at them transfixed, staring at their foundation garments and nylon stockings.

“Leave the mannequins Sam and come with me,” Wesley began to push the cart into the store.

Sam followed Wesley like a loyal pet, not knowing what else to do. He was led around by Wesley who visited a number of stations in the department store and put various items into the cart. They came to the Health and Beauty department and Wesley parked the trolley and told Sam to strip.

“I beg your pardon?” Sam sounded stunned.

“Sam. I’ve got no more time to waste on you. If we don’t do what we’re told, those boys are going to come back here and as Bill Brody so eloquently put it: they will beat us into those clothes,” Wesley pointed at shopping cart.

Sam surrendered. For now at least there was no escape, nowhere to go, no one to help. He would put himself in the hands of Wesley Meakins hoping that Wesley would keep him safe. Wesley was Bill Brody’s Company Clerk so he knew secrets that the other didn’t, like what was actually in the Villawood Rules & Regulations folder that Brody refused to let the others see.

Sam stripped down to his skivvies and Wesley appraised him.

“You're small in stature but you have long legs and a decent ass, your waist is slim and your feet are small for a man. You’ve hardly any body or facial hair. There are drag queens out there who would kill to have that body; in fact there are women out there would kill to have that body if you only had tits,” Wesley studied Sam carefully.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Wesley,” Sam said standing there stupefied in his underpants and undershirt.

“Women's clothes fit differently Sam but I’m not going to waste time explaining to you why. I’m going to beat your face then I’m going to dress you and we’ll take it from there,” Wesley was laying out cosmetics on the counter.

“Why are you going to beat me?” Sam was disappointed that his friend was threatening him.

“It’s a drag term honey. Beating your face means putting makeup on you,” Wesley explained and Sam just nodded.

Wesley has Sam sit on a stool next to the cosmetics counter and scurried away and came back with a bowl of hot water, shaving soap and a razor. Sam sat still and allowed Wesley to shave his face.

“I’m wasting my time really; you hardly have any facial hair,” Wesley commented as he wiped away the post-shave lather from Sam’s face.

“I’m going to put up a mirror here on the counter so you can see what I’m doing and I’ll explain the process. I don’t have time to teach you but you’ll become adept with practice,” Wesley said and Sam wondered why he would day that.

Why would he become astute with practice? This was to be a onetime thing. He and Wesley would dress up as women and the others would intimidate, tease and torment them and that would be that.

Sam watched Wesley turn his handsome face into a pretty feminine face using foundation, finishing powder, eyeshadow, eyeliner mascara, rouge and lipstick. Sam was mesmerised by the process as Wesley for all intents and purposes turned him into a girl.

“We used to have saying back in the day: ‘pretty boy means pretty girl’,” Wesley said as he put the finishing touches to Sam’s face.

He took the brunette bob from the trolley, brushed it out and fitted it to Sam’s head. The transformation was complete. Looking back as Sam in the mirror was a beautiful woman with flowing shoulder-length brunette locks and bangs which highlighted the makeup complimenting her pretty green eyes.

“I don’t believe it,” Sam stared into the mirror.

“Now is the time I stop thinking of myself as ‘he’ and think of myself as ‘she’. It helps with the transformation,” Wesley explained as she began to apply cosmetics to her own face.

Sam wouldn't admit it but that was how she felt. As of right now, looking at her reflection, she thought of herself in the feminine vernacular.

“Just call me Wendy. Wendy Wayne is back in the house honey,” Wendy poked at her honey-blonde, curly bouffant updo with the spiky handle of the hairbrush, getting it to sit just right.

Wendy looked amazing too. There was no doubt that Sam was the more attractive of the two in her mind but Wendy was quite the doll. Sam didn’t understand why she felt that way. Why would she consider herself more attractive? They were two men dressing as women for a lark because they had been made to do so.

“Ok honey here comes the good part. Now this going to feel a little strange at first but I think you’re going to like it. In any event you're going to have to get used to it,” Wendy produced a pair of white rayon high-waisted panties with an elasticised waist.

“These are tight fitting and smooth so they won’t spoil the lines of your pencil skirt,” Wendy placed them on the counter and put a matching brassiere beside them.

“I don’t have your waistline honey so I’m going to have to wear a girdle with garters but because you have that waist you can get away with just wearing a garter belt,” Wendy held a piece of lingerie made of a lacy fabric that was elasticised and had six suspender straps with silver clips fitted to them.

Sam knew that the garment was designed to go around a woman’s waist and the garters were used to hold her stockings. He’d had a fascination for women’s legs in nylon stockings since he could remember but the thought of actually wearing the garments had never entered his head.

Sam had been in the military and in prison long enough that she was not embarrassed by nudity so when Wendy told her to take off her skivvies she did so with no anguish. Wendy fitted the garter belt around Sam’s waist getting her to step into it. Once she was happy with the fit she had Sam sit on the stool and offer her a leg.

“You have to careful not to put holes or runners in these things when you put them on,” Wendy explained as she rolled up a gauzy black fully-fashioned nylon stocking and slipped it over Sam’s toes.

The feel of the silky cool nylon as Wendy smoothed it up Sam’s leg was indescribable. Sam knew how lovely stockings felt on women’s legs when she stroked them but feeling the diaphanous garment on her own legs was absolutely delightful. Now she understood why women went to such great lengths to get their hands on good quality hosiery.

The sensation she felt putting on her stockings was exceeded only by the tingling exotic tickle of the fabric of her rayon panties sliding up her legs. Sam was becoming tumescent despite the absurdity of the situation.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Wendy snickered when she saw the effect that donning her intimates was having on Sam.

Sam blushed.

“I can’t help it. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” Sam admitted.

“Well that unsightly bugle will ruin the line of your skirt,” Wendy said.

While they waited for Sam’s erection to go down Wendy went looking for shoes. Sam had never felt so silly in her life. She had endured sitting on a latrine inches from another person taking a dump in a field head. She had lined up alongside a dozen men and bent over so that a prison officer wearing rubber gloves could examine her asshole for contraband. She had lay awake in the bottom bunk listening to the man above her masturbate and then followed suit knowing that he could hear her.

But sitting on the stool dressed only in nylon stockings and a garter belt waiting for her erection to subside so she could pull up her panties was the most absurd thing she had ever done.

“These will fit,” Wendy returned waving a pair of open-toed strappy high heels.

She too looked absurd running down the cosmetics aisle, her face painted expertly and her blonde do wobbling as she held onto it with one hand and waved the heels with the other, dressed only in boxers, tank top and socks. Sam couldn’t help but laugh which helped the last of her erection diminish.

Wendy showed Sam how to tuck her genitals and hold them in place with her tight panties.

“When I did drag we taped it all in place because we were singing and dancing and performing acrobatics but we are just going to be serving drinks and snacks to a couple of drunken men,” Wendy said, as if it that wasn't the most absurd thing ever.

She helped Sam finish dressing, padding her brassiere cups with rolled up nylons to give her chest some shape. Putting on the open-toed heels was easy but walking with them was torture and Wendy left Sam to practice walking, holding onto the counter for support until she had her balance.

“Point your toes slightly inward and unnaturally as it feels, put your sole down first then your heel. Those things aren’t combat boots,” Wendy advised her whilst putting on her own lingerie.

Wendy had been undertaking mostly sedentary duties and enjoying the meals provided by Dale Snitterman and dodging Company PT whenever she could and had put a few pounds since arriving at Villawood.

The added weight actually made her face a little prettier when she put on her makeup as it disguised her wrinkles and gave her full rosy cheeks. She’d had to step into a full corset which covered her entire torso and included bra cups and garter straps. It featured an inbuilt girdle that shaped her body into an hourglass figure and as she was carrying the extra pounds she had an ample bosom which she showed off by wearing the sleeveless, strapless dress with the fitted bodice and a full skirt that the mannequin had modelled in the store entrance.

Wendy looked like a voluptuous, attractive middle-aged woman who was confident in her gait and poise. Her transformation was amazing and unless you knew Petty Officer Wesley Meakins you would never know that it was him under that lipstick, powder, heels and finery.

Sam looked stunning in her slim-fitted pencil skirt suit but she was so ungainly and unsteady on her feet that she walked like a new born foal. Wendy gave Sam some pointers but there wasn’t time to train her in the womanly arts. She’d gathered some accessories and snapped clip-on earrings onto Sam’s earlobes, put a necklace around her neck and bracelets on her wrist. She gave her a clutch purse that complemented her suit.

“I’ve put your keys, cigarettes, handkerchief and some makeup in the clutch,” she explained, slamming the purse into Sam’s belly so that she instinctively gripped it.

She looked down at her red nailpolished fingernails, past her tight tummy, down the line of her skirt to her shapely legs and her feet shod in the high heels and actually felt that she looked pretty good and very feminine. The hem of her skirt tickled her legs and felt delightfully decadent as the lining swished on her nylons. She could taste her lipstick and smell the perfume that Wendy had doused them both with.

Sam actually felt very feminine. It was very strange and unsettling but somehow comforting and it was just for one day. It was just a lark; a tease, a prank forced on them by a couple of bullies. It was just for one day. Just for one day, she kept repeating the mantra in her head over and over.

“Just for one day. It’s just a prank,” she spoke aloud without intending to.

“That's right Samantha; it’s just for one day,” Wendy said as she took Sam’s hand and led her outside the department store.

But Wendy wasn’t so sure. She knew that she looked very fetching dressed enfemme but Sam looked absolutely stunning and sexy without realising it. She hoped that the others were just pranking them because Wendy had witnessed some shocking things in the alley out back of the Pink Parrot nightclub. But there was no need to scare Sam. Sam was much younger then she very inexperienced and naive. Wendy saw it as her job to protect the ingénue.

As Sam and Wendy approached The Copperlode they could hear the raucous noise of men having a good time. Bill Haley was singing about rocking around the clock, men were laughing loudly and bottles were clinking.

When Sam and Wendy walked through the door, Sam leaning on Wendy because she was still unsteady on her feet, the noise stopped abruptly. Someone silenced the duke box and the four men just stared at the two beautiful women.

When Bill Brody had ordered Sam Steele to ‘show up wearing those fucking clothes or else I’ll beat you into them,’ he had expected to see Sam and Wendy dressed like a couple of pantomime artists, not these two convincing sexy women.

“Christ on a fucking crutch,” Buddy Flintock whispered.

“What the fuck?” Victor Benning stood with his mouth agape.

“Ok ladies. Get to fucking work. Clean this joint up and get us more drinks,” William Brody needed to justify to himself and to the others why he had made Sam and Wesley get dressed like this.

Having gone years without seeing women, certainly not up this close and personal, the men were fascinated by Sam and Wendy. They looked feminine, they smelled feminine and some of the men bet they felt feminine. They found it best to forget all about Samuel Steele and Wesley Meakins then they could just believe that Samantha and Wendy were real.

“Get busy. The busier we are, the less chance we have of having to play grab-ass with these guys,” Wendy began to clear tables and empty ashtrays.

“What do you mean ‘play grab-ass’?” Sam asked, confused and still shell-shocked.

“These guys haven’t seen women for the whole of their incarceration. We aren’t real women under these clothes but the more they drink, the more they are libel to forget that,” Wendy pointed Sam towards the bar where she took up station.

Sam worked the bar and Wendy worked the room bussing tables, cleaning ashtrays, sweeping the floors and dodging wondering hands. The men marvelled at how presentable the women were except for Bill Brody who now regretted making them dress up. He hadn't wanted this. The men were treating Sam and Wendy like they were real women and they were supposed to tease, belittle and bully them.

Dale Snitterman had put some tater tots in the oven and hotdogs in the broiler and Sam plated the snacks and took them into the bar to feed the men. Buddy and Victor pawed at her and Dale laughed at her predicament. Wendy came to her aid but she too was molested.

The men pretended it was all a joke but to Sam it didn’t feel that way. There seemed to be genuine malice and lasciviousness in their actions.

“Why are they behaving this way?” Sam asked Wendy when they went outside for a smoke break so they could be alone.

“I warned you this might happen. Men who haven’t been seen women for such a long time are libel to put aside their aversions and let their imaginations and their ardour take hold, especially if they’ve been drinking,” Wendy lit up a Salem and offered the pack to Sam.

She lit up and was amused to see her lipstick stain the filter of her cigarette.

Sam looked confused and annoyed. She actually enjoyed wearing the clothing, the underwear and nylons felt delightful against her body, the skirt tickled her knees, the makeup tasted lovely, even the high heels were pleasant to wear now that she was getting used to them but the men’s reaction to her was unexpected and alarming.

“Look when we and my friends performed our skits on board the USS Polari the sailors enjoyed the shows but some of them took it a little too far after the show,” Wendy pretended to study the end of her cigarette.

“What do you mean they took it a little too far?” Sam sounded alarmed.

“Those men were fighting a war far from home and were far removed from female comfort and didn’t know if they would make it back. Three gorgeous women were entertaining them and some of those men chose not to differentiate between us and real women,” Wendy admitted.

“What do you mean?” Sam sounded shocked.

“You know what I mean. Don’t be so naïve,” Wendy was starting to find Sam’s naivety a little tiresome.

“Look. Like you said this only for one day so let’s just get through it and move on ok?” Wendy regretted snapping at Sam and gave her a hug.

“Ok Wes, I mean Wendy,” Sam giggled.

Wendy slapped Sam on the ass as she turned to go back inside and Sam laughed dizzily.

“Here they are! Let’s dance ladies,” Victor Benning grabbed Sam and Buddy Flintock grabbed Wendy as they came through the door.

Sam stutter-stepped onto the small dance floor pulled along by Victor whereas Wendy was quite the accomplished dancer and was soon cutting a rug with Buddy. Victor held Sam awkwardly at first, his alcohol-fuelled bravado dissipating now that he had Sam in his grasp but as he gazed into her beautiful green eyes enhanced by the dark makeup and her full red lips he just saw a beautiful woman and nothing of Sam Steele.

Victor pulled Sam closer and inhaled her perfume, nuzzling her neck as they shuffled around the dance floor to Love Letters In The Sand. Sam felt awkward and out of place being held by a man who up until recently had been a fellow inmate and was known to be particularly cruel to her. She went along with it, feeling Victor’s hand on her slim waist holding her tight while she automatically placed the fingers of her right hand between the thumb and first finger of Victor’s left hand and he gently closed his fingers over the side of her hand.

She had heard the quote about Ginger Rogers dancing backward and in high heels and at first she was clumsy and graceless but despite his rough exterior, Victor was quite the dancer and he led her around the floor and made her feel at ease. She looked over and saw that Buddy was holding Wendy tight and his hand was on her ass. She didn’t seem to making any attempt to move it either.

The evening just kept getting more bizarre. Buddy and Victor insisted that the girls sit with them and entertain them which Sam had no clue how to do but she looked so pretty that neither Buddy nor Victor cared; they just wanted to look at her and touch her.

Wendy kept them entertained, telling stories of her days performing drag at the Pink Parrot and of the exploits of the customers and the queens. She was careful never to break the illusion that they were real women, always referring to the queens in her story in the feminine vernacular and when talking about Sam and herself she also used feminine pronouns.

Sam would get up to replenish drinks and pass around snacks and Wendy would clean up glasses and empty ashtrays but Buddy and Victor insisted that they return to their table as soon as they had finished their chores.

Dale Snitterman watched the whole thing with amusement. He took Sam for a turn around the dance floor but he was polite and treated her respectfully. Sam could tell that he was bemused by her and Wendy; he studied them both and engaged with them but made no attempt to touch either of them. He joined them at their table and listened to Wendy’s stories and jokes.

The respect that Dale proffered the two ladies was not matched by Buddy and Victor who as they got drunker, got bolder. Victor started by stroking Sam’s legs under the table. At first she didn’t know what was happening, she just felt this soft sensual sensation on her leg which felt quite nice. She quite liked the feel of the nylon stockings on her legs and the flutter of her skirt on her knees but this was something more sensual and demanding.

When she realised that Victor was stroking her legs she paled and froze then she carefully extracted his hand and put it back on the table. He insisted they dance again and he attempted to kiss her while they were dancing but she rebuffed his advances but he held her tight and squeezed her ass which she could do nothing about. Wendy was no help because she was letting Buddy kiss her and feel her up without protest or rebuke.

When they returned back to the table Dale Snitterman was sitting with one leg crossed over the other with a shit grin on his face.

“You all make lovely couples,” he chuckled and Buddy and Victor laughed along with him.

Sam offered to refill everyone’s glasses as an excuse to get away.

She poured a double whiskey and a draught beer, put them on a tray and took it over to Bill Brody who was sitting alone just watching the spectacle.

Sam put the drinks down in front of him, picked up his empty glasses and turned to walk away.

“You two think you are hot shit don’t you?” Bill grumbled, obviously drunk.

Sam had had enough and she spun around and stood in front of him with her hand on hips. Her pose was very reflective of an angry woman but she wasn’t aware of it; it came intuitively to her. What she didn’t realise was that she was subconsciously affecting femininity without really thinking about. She felt like a woman dressed as she was so she mimicked feminine gestures. It came easily to her, without forethought or effort.

“What on earth do you mean Bill?” Sam was angry.

She’d been made to dress up as a woman and behave like a woman and the men were treating her like a woman and being a little brazen with their advances but she could put up with that. She wouldn't admit it to herself just yet but she quite liked being dressed this way and was enamoured with how she looked but Bill was being obtuse.

She pulled back a chair and sat herself across from him, fuming.

Bill admired the way her green eyes lit up when she was angry. Her face framed by the brunette bangs was more than pretty in the heavy makeup; she was gorgeous and she filled out her suit nicely and those legs went on for ever. Bill had been erect on and off all evening just watching her, jealous of Victor when he danced with her.

But he would never tell her that.

“What’s your problem Miss Steele?” Bill sipped his beer coolly; looking at her over the rim of the glass.

“My problem is you calling Wendy and I hot shit. You made us dress like this. You made us perform for you, pretending that we are girls. You were probably hoping the men would taunt us, tease us, maybe put a little beating or two on us but your plan seems to have backfired,” Sam said heatedly.

“The men seem to like us and enjoy our company and no harm has been done. Also I doubt this is supposed to be part of the study or experiment or whatever you call it. This is just bullying and harassment,” Sam began to seethe.

“Allow me to respond Samantha,” Bill smiled at her wickedly.

This was not the first time she had been called Samantha and she didn’t mind it; she quite liked the name.

“Let’s not ignore the fact that you and your chubby sister seem to like dressing like a couple of floozies a little more than I expected you would, although I knew it was nothing new for Miss Meakins. You however have surprised me. You are fully transformed and quite feminine. I’d never guess that it was Samuel Steele under that skirt,” Bill took another sip of his drink.

“I have to say that that the men’s reactions to you both surprised me and I admit that my plan has backfired. Yes I was expecting that the others would tease and belittle you but after some consideration I can understand why the men are taken with you both,” Bill lit a cigarette and passed it too Sam and then lit one for himself.

“As to how this fits into Flagg’s study, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Put it in your diary, I’m sure Flagg will be amused when he reads it,” Bill tapped ash into the ashtray.

“But for now just entertain the troops. Just be a zhenshchiny dlya utekh,” Bill said with a perfect Russian inflection.

Sam just glared angrily at him and stood up and snatched up the tray. She turned and was about to walk away.

“One more thing Sam,” Bill said and Sam turned around.

“You have a great ass in that skirt. Wendy was right; that suit fits you perfectly,” Bill chuckled and turned to his drinks.

Sam flushed with anger but underneath her flaming ire she accepted the compliment.

As it was Saturday the Copperlode stayed open until midnight and at midnight Wendy, Sam and Dale ushered the others out the door and Wendy and Sam cleaned up the bar and Dale cleaned up the kitchen, leaving the two women to lock up.

“Well that wasn’t so bad was it?” Wendy said sitting at a table with Sam sipping a nightcap.

“The clothes and makeup are quite nice; I could get used to them but my dogs are barking in these shoes,” Sam kicked off a high heel and massaged her toes.

“I’m glad it was only for one night though because it became very uncomfortable a few times there with Victor. He kept putting his hands under my skirt and he tried to kiss me several times and my ass feels like melon on a fruit stand that has been squeezed far too many times,” Sam allowed herself to laugh.

“Oh stop your whining; it’s all part of it,” Wendy countered.

“Well you didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact Miss Wendy Meakins you were quite the hussy!” Sam couldn’t help but burst out laughing and Wendy joined her.

The two women locked the bar and let themselves out back.

As soon as they entered the alley they knew that something was wrong. Buddy Flintock blocked one end of the alley and Victor Benning the other. Sam tried to unlock the rear entrance to the Copperlode but fumbled with the keys in the dark and dropped them.

The women didn’t stand a chance and Buddy pinned Wendy up against the wall almost instantly. Sam was a little more athletic and made it a few yards down the alley before Victor caught her and pushed her against the wall.

He fell on her, pinning her small frame against the clapboard with his muscled torso. His hands went straight to her skirt, hiking it up despite her protests.

“Let me see them legs bitch,” Victor pawed at her.

“Stop Victor; there’s nothing to see there. It’s all an illusion,” Sam cried.

“Is it fuck! Look at them sexy long legs in those slinky nylons,” Victor had managed to hike Sam’s pencil skirt up her thighs so that her long legs and slim thighs were on display in the lamplight.

Victor stroked Sam’s legs and she felt the same way she had in the bar when he had done it earlier. It was alarming but somehow soothing and sexy. When his fingers came to her white rayon high-waisted panties she began to struggle again.

“Don’t Victor; you know what’s in there and you won’t like it,” Sam protested.

“I don’t wanna see what’s in there I wanna see them pretty panties snug around your pussy above those black silky stocking tops,” Victor stroked her stocking welts and then the front panel of her panties.

“It’s an illusion Victor,” Sam pleaded.

“Illusion this sister. You keep struggling and I'm going to hurt you,” Victor thrust his fingers between her legs which she was keeping tightly closed and squeezed her penis which was lying limp along her perineum.

The pain was fleeting but incredibly excruciating. While Sam gasped for breath and recovered Victor put his mouth on hers and kissed her. Sam began to turn her head and Victor thrust his hand between her legs again and Sam stopped struggling.

She returned the kiss and when Victor used his tongue on her she reciprocated. Sam hadn't kissed anyone for so long she had forgotten how wonderfully sensual and soothing it was. She forgot that she wasn’t actually a woman or that Victor was forcing himself on her and put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

When he squeezed her ass she didn’t complain, his fingers massaging her buttocks through her panties felt quite nice. She knew what she was doing was wrong but she justified her actions to herself by alleging that Victor was forcing her to do these things and if she resisted he would hurt her, which in itself was in fact true.

Victor squeezed and pawed Sam’s buttocks for a while and then he placed his hands back on her thighs and began to stroke her legs. His kisses were getting hotter and Sam’s cock was becoming uncomfortably cramped between her legs but she had no intention of freeing it. She let Victor fondle her legs and the front of her panties while he kissed her and she kissed him back hoping that what they were doing would sate his lust.

She didn’t even flinch that much when Victor freed his penis and began to rub it on her nylon-sheathed thighs. She was expecting him to do so and her plan was to encourage him and let him sow his seed on her legs. It was better than any of the alternatives, the likes of which she didn’t want to think of.

Sam stole a glance sideways and saw that Wendy was kissing Buddy Flintock quite enthusiastically and to her horror she saw that she also had Buddy’s erect penis in her hand and was stroking it while he crushed his body against hers. She had a leg hooked around him and he was massaging her thigh whilst she massaged his appendage.

Sam tore her eyes away and concentrated on kissing the muscled black man who had her pinned to the rough clapboards. She was like a damsel in distress in the Saturday morning flickers but there was no hero to come to her rescue.

When Victor slid his meaty appendage between Sam’s thighs she closed her legs around it and kissed him more fervently, hoping that she could trigger his climax. She could feel the dampness of his pre-ejaculate staining her stockings and god help her, the feel of his hot manhood between her thighs was making her concupiscent. She could feel her cock pushing against the sleek fabric of her panties.

For a man out of practice, Victor was a good kisser. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his tongue in and out of her lips and then explored her mouth. The more he did this the more Sam liked it and she kissed him fervently in response. Their kisses were hot and heavy and Victor was holding her tight, fucking her legs, his cock trapped between her thighs, warm, meaty, pulsing and ready to come.

Then Victor looked over to his pal and saw that Wendy was on her knees fellating Buddy and doing a very good job of it. Buddy had his hands on her shoulders and was thrusting his cock in and out of Wendy’s mouth as she sucked it like a lollipop.

“I’m gonna get me some of that,” Victor chuckled and Sam looked over and saw what Wendy was doing and her heart fell.

She fought valiantly but she was no match for Victor’s strength and by the time he had Sam on her knees she was unable to struggle any longer. He held her by her hair and poked his cock at her lipsticked lips but she refused to open her mouth.

“You know how this ends if you don’t do what I want Samantha and I’d rather not hurt you or spoil that pretty face,” he grunted, pushing his cock against her closed lips.

Sam let the tears roll down her cheeks as she opened her mouth and accepted Victor’s offering. He was smart enough not to gag her and he let only a small portion of penis enter Sam’s mouth.

“You bite it and you won’t wake up for a week honey; if ever,” Victor whispered, the malice in his voice was terrifying.

Sam closed her mouth softly over Victor’s erect penis and began to suck it. It followed naturally that her tongue would lick and slather it. Now that she had it in her mouth the worst was over. The battle was lost. It was best to get it over with as soon as possible.

She gripped the base of Victor’s penis and began to lick it and suck it, putting as much of his huge member in her mouth as she could take. It wasn’t really that unpleasant. Victor’s shank was long and black with purple veins and capillaries running along it; the head was mushroom shaped, dark pink and leaked a continual dribble of pre-ejaculate which to her surprise tasted fresh and sweet.

She used her fingers in conjunction with her lips to stroke the thick shaft while her tongue slathered at his glans, the tip ticking his fraenulum which made him shudder and sigh. Sam actually felt quite powerful even though she was on her knees. She decided how hard or soft she used her mouth on him and whether her tongue flicked over his glans or lapped at the underside of his cock.

Her panties were beginning to bulge under her skirt because she had become fully tumescent and her cock had sprung free.

Not that Victor could see any of that. He was too busy staring down at her pretty face looking into her dreamy green eyes which were looking back dutifully into his while her red lipsticked lips suckled his hard cock. She was so pretty and he was so horny.

Sam felt his cock begin to tremble but she set her resolve and kept eye contact with him as he began to flood her mouth with hot, salty semen. She swallowed what she could but some leaked from her lips which inspired Victor and he pulled his cock from Sam’s mouth and spattered that last of his pend on her face and in her hair. She stared at up at him defiantly while he defiled her pretty face, spraying it with his scalding jism.

She held this pose to disguise the fact that she was creaming her panties. Her cock, untouched and yet rampant inside her diaphanous rayon knickers, seeped globules of spunk; the warm sticky morass soaking into the fabric of her panties.

Her whole body was aflame with a supressed orgasm that coursed through her body, propagated in her shiny sleek panties and proliferating through every organ in her body. The air reeked of semen and sex; she could smell it in her nose, she could taste it in her mouth, she could feel it on her skin and in her hair.

Victor pushed his cock back into Sam’s mouth and she dutifully sucked out the least vestiges of his spend.

“You suck cock pretty good for a white girl,” Victor chuckled as he helped Sam to her feet.

He popped her against the wall and leaned and kissed her on lips quickly, keeping clear of the spatters of semen on her face.

“See ya later princess,” he smiled at her and joined up with Buddy Flintock who was standing at the end of the alley smoking a cigarette waiting for him.

Wendy was in the process of straightening her dress and fixing her makeup.

Sam reached into her clutch and took out the handkerchief and dabbed it at her face and hair until all of Victor’s semen was gone. There nothing she could do about the taste of it in her mouth so lit a cigarette. She waited until she was sure that Wendy wasn't watching and she slipped the handkerchief under her skirt and dried her panties as best she could. She tossed the handkerchief into the gutter in disgust.

Wendy came to join her smoking her own cigarette.

“Sorry Sam, I should have guessed that might happen,” Wendy said.

Sam looked at Wendy her face a picture of disbelief.

“Don’t be naïve Sam. What did you think those boys wanted when they were feeling us up on the dance floor? It could have been a lot worse,” Wendy said matter-of-factly.

“Thank fuck it’s over with and it was only for one day,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah Sam; it was only for one day,” Wendy said; not at all convinced she was telling the truth.

To be continued

>

Villawood Montana, 1959

Sunday was usually a day of rest and Sam intended to stay inside her house and not venture out into the cold cruel world. What had occurred yesterday was bizarre and terrifying. Those men had for all intents and purposes raped her and Wendy, although Wendy seemed to be rather more than a little complicit.

Bill Brody had not been involved in the aftermath in the alley outside the Copperlode but in her mind he was the instigator because he had encouraged the others to treat her and Wendy like comfort women. He may not have actively been involved when Buddy Flintock and Victor Benning had forced them to dance and pawed at them in the bar but by just sitting there and watching he had given them tacit approval to do so.

And Dale Snitterman was no saint. Although he had not participated in the antics in the bar he had been more than just a curious onlooker.

But what of her own actions?

When Wendy had shown Sam how to dress like a lady had she not enjoyed the experience? Was she not still now wearing her rayon panties and nylon stockings in bed? Was she not still wearing makeup and perfume? Those lipstick and mascara stains on the pillow seemed to accuse her thusly.

She had protested when she was forced to dress like a woman, yes she had. But had she not been a little thrilled and elated when the men marvelled at how beautiful she looked when she entered the bar. Once she got used to it, had she not enjoyed being held closely by Victor when he danced with her?

What happened after the bar closed was not her fault or Wendy’s. But Wendy had said something: ‘Sorry Sam, I should have guessed that might happen.’ Wendy had suspected that the men might be waiting for them wanting more than just to cop a feel. Had Wendy deliberately led them into a trap? She certainly seemed to enjoy what happened in the alley.

But Samantha knew that she was trying to justify her own actions.

She had tried to fight off Victor Benning, that much was true but when her cuddled and kissed her she had responded likewise. She hadn't been kissed for so long that it didn’t matter to her that she was in the opposite role; in fact it fuelled her desire knowing what it was like to be kissed like a woman.

And what happened after. There was no doubt that she was reviled by it but why had she ejaculated? What about that fleeting moment of power she had felt when she was on her knees sucking that big black cock? She couldn’t explain that any more than she could explain the erection now tenting the sheets as she recalled what had happened.

One thing was for sure. Things in Villawood would never be the same again. At least it only for one day. It would never happen again.

Then she heard rapping on the front door.

Sam cracked open the curtain and saw that Wendy was standing at her door. She was still wearing her blonde wig and her makeup was fresh and her hourglass figure divulged that she was wearing the full corset with inbuilt girdle under the sleeveless, strapless dress that she had been wearing yesterday. She had a purse over her shoulder and was carrying a small carrycase.

Two questions came to mind: why was she here and why was she still dressed as a woman?

Sam shuffled to the door in her stocking feet with a flannel nightgown wrapped around her. When she opened the door Wendy barged in uninvited and went straight to the little kitchen and put down the carrycase she had brought with her.

“Still wearing your makeup, wig and nylons? You should really take off your wig and makeup before you go to bed,” Wendy began to mooch in the case.

“Staff Sergeant Brody has called an extraordinary meeting in the conference room today at 10am,” Wendy began to put little bottles and tubes on the kitchen table that Sam recognised as cosmetics.

“You’re really going to stand there and not discuss what happened last night?” once again without forethought or effort Sam adopted the pose reflective of an angry woman with her hand on her hip, projecting femininity without really thinking about it.

“What would you like to discuss Sam? It happened, let it go. Once again I quote the bard: the lady doth protest too much, methinks, Wendy sniggered and continued to produce items from case.

“Make some coffee please Sam and then I’ll help you get ready,” Wendy fussed with the items on the table.

“What do you mean help me get ready?” Sam didn’t move.

“Bill has ordered that we show up enfemme,” Wendy said matter-of-factly.

“Before you start protesting he reiterated what he said yesterday. He said you tell Nurse Steele to put on that fucking suit or I’ll come over there and belt her into it,” Wendy looked coolly at Sam who had started to cry.

“Stop that Sam! It won’t do you any good. You go and shower and I’ll make the coffee; you’ll feel better after,” and amazingly Wendy was right.

Sam stripped naked and took off her wig and took a long hot shower washing away the makeup caked to her face. She brushed her teeth and considered shaving but her face was still smooth. She seldom shaved more than twice a week. She put on her terry robe and returned to the kitchen where she found Wendy sipping coffee.

Sam didn’t realise that subconsciously she was still thinking of herself in the female vernacular. It was probably because she was once again about to dress enfemme. Was she excited about doing it? Deep down she thought she was but she could justify making herself look femininely beautiful because Bill had ordered it.

“I stopped at the department store and brought a few things over you might need. Sit here and let’s see how much you learned about makeup,” Wendy had brought over a little vanity mirror and set it up the kitchen table.

Sam went about applying foundation and face power in between sips of coffee which made her feel better. She did her eyes next, fucking up the eyeliner twice before Wendy interceded and showed her how to do it properly. She rouged her cheeks and applied lipstick doing a reasonable job of it. Wendy had been brushing out her brunette bangs and she helped Sam position it just right and pin it in place.

The men had forgone cutting their hair except for Bill and Dale. Victor had the beginnings of a decent Afro and the others had hair long enough to give a drill sergeant a heart attack. It was another act of rebellion, like wearing civilian clothing, although Bill still insisted on wearing his fatigues when he was on duty.

Again, Sam was amazed at the transformation as she looked at her face in the mirror. She looked beautiful.

“I’ve brought you some stockings and panties too,” Wendy poured herself another cup of coffee and checked her watch.

She’d taken a nice jewelled Timex from the store and brought one for Sam too. The wondrous feel of silk, satin and nylon on bare flesh returned as Sam stepped into her underwear and stockings. She put on the suit and sat at the table to put on her high heels. Wendy helped her accessorise and doused her with perfume.

“Now what? I thought we were only ever going to be made to do this once?” Sam protested.

“Now we go to see what Bill has got to say,” Wendy packed up the accoutrements in her little carrycase and put the crockery in the sink.

“Let’s go,” Wendy said and Sam was pleased to see that Wendy had commandeered Bill’s jeep so they wouldn't have to walk all the way to the Villawood town hall in high heels.

Heads turned when the men heard the click-clack of high heels on the floorboards and when Wendy and Samantha entered the conference room Buddy let out a wolf whistle and the other cheered; except for Bill Brody who stood grim-faced at the podium.

“Can the bullshit! You ladies sit over there away from the men,” Bill pointed to chairs on the opposite side of the aisle from where the men were sitting.

“Sorry to bring you in on a Sunday but after some contemplation I’ve made some amendments to the Villawood Rules & Regulations. Bill held up the binder that contained the administration instruction for the study like it was a bible and he was a preacher.

He was wearing his fatigues and had that look on his face that he was not to be fucked with.

“Henceforth Airman Samantha Steele and Petty Officer Wendy Meakins will present themselves as women at all times. They looked so convincing yesterday and everyone had such a good time that I think it will be good for morale,” Bill began and Sam and Wendy sat there dumbfounded.

“The modern armed services are embracing women to serve their nation and so will we. Samantha and Wendy will continue in their roles as nurse and company clerk when they are on duty but after work they will perform the role of comfort women,” Bill announced.

“I’m not a nurse I’m a corpsman!” Sam felt ridiculous even as she said it.

She had just been condemned to live out her life in Villawood as woman and she was complaining because Bill had misused her MOS.

The other men all cheered and Sam and Wendy looked at each other with disbelief.

“Because Sam and Wendy’s collateral duties will be to act as comfort women, they are excused all other collateral duties,” Bill continued.

Buddy, Victor and Dale shrugged their shoulders. They didn’t mind picking up the shit details if it meant they had the company of Sam and Wendy every evening.

“We’re not doing it!” Sam stood up and stamped her feet.

Bill ignored her.

“One final thing. Samantha Steele will be my personal comfort woman. You other men get to share Wendy but from what I know of her background she won’t mind,” Bill closed the folder and put it under his arm.

Wendy blushed but her head was spinning. She was a homosexual man and yes she’d had sex with men before when she was dressed in drag, especially during her time on board USS Polari but she preferred to present as a man. Then she considered the alternative. If she came onto the men as a male they would more than likely beat the shit out of her but they all liked Wendy. Let them have their fantasy; if it made life easier for her and she got to roll in the hay with those two rugged engineers it would be worth it.

Sam looked at Wendy defiantly waiting for Wendy to join her protest but Wendy just smiled at her and shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘what can we do?’

“Fuck this; I’m not doing it!” Sam sat down and folded her arms defiantly.

“You’re dismissed. I’ll see you all at the Copperlode later,” Bill said and the men filed out talking excitedly amongst themselves.

“You can go too Wendy. Feel free to suck a few dicks on the way out should you be so inclined,” Bill’s cruelty towards Wendy had not changed just because she was presenting as a woman but she was used to it and knew there was no real malice there.

“Nurse Steele you come with me to my office,” Bill said in his gravelly voice.

“Fuck you!” Sam sat with her arms crossed refusing to budge.

Bill walked over and pulled Sam to her feet and frog marched her to his office.

“Get with the program Nurse Steele,” Bill held Sam by the upper arm and shook her.

Bill had gone back to his quarters last night unable to get Sam out of his head. He kept seeing her pretty face, her body in that tight-fitting suit and those long shapely legs in sheer nylons. He’d been jealous of Victor Benning, who had spent most of the evening dancing with her; holding her tight, pawing at her. Bill wanted to be the one holding Samantha Steele close and gazing into those rapturous green eyes.

“What program Bill? This is bullshit!” Sam stamped her foot again like a spoiled child.

“I told you that I’d belt you into that suit if you refused to wear it, now I’m telling you that I’ll belt you into compliance if I have to,” Bill said angrily.

“Fuck you!” Sam said defiantly.

Bill spun Sam around and bent her over desk, holding her down while he whipped the belt out of the loops of his fatigue pants and doubled it over. Sam continued to struggle and kick while Bill hiked up her skirt exposing her derrière. And a magnificent derrière it was: her soft pink globes encased in almost transparent white nylon panties, creamy thighs above the dark bands of her stocking tops. Bill felt himself becoming hard.

Sam cursed as Bill pulled her panties down.

“Stop that! This is ridiculous!” she screamed like a baby girl.

When Bill brought the belt down on her buttocks Sam stopped struggling and started to cry. It wasn't so much the pain, Bill hadn't really hit her that hard, it was the indignity. Bill struck her twice more to make his point and Sam refused to cry out despite the sting of the belt. She could feel her buttocks burning and when Bill pulled her panties back up, the soft cool fabric eased her pain a little.

Bill stood back and admired his work. He had this beautiful woman bent over his desk with her skirt hiked up, her long legs sheathed in sheer hose, the backseams perfectly straight, the dark coffee-coloured bands at the top of her stockings clipped to her suspenders which poked out of those glorious white translucent panties. Her beautiful buttocks glowed pink under those full-cut gossamer panties.

The sight was wondrous to behold and Bill was unable to control himself. Sam heard him unbuttoning his flies and she started to struggle again but Bill draped his belt across her ass cheeks and she got the message: struggling would bring on the belt.

She felt Bill’s hard cock nestle in the crevice of her buttocks and he began to rub his cock on her whispy panties. She could feel the power and the heat in his manhood. She felt vulnerable and weak, her diminutive body bent over the desk, with her skirt rucked up, her ass exposed and a big burly man behind her rubbing his hard cock on her panty-clad derrière.

But she also felt something else. Her buttocks were still stinging from the belt but Bill’s cock pressing the slippery fabric of her panties into the crevice of her bottom was quite arousing and erotic. An unwanted erection grew in the front of her panties. She was mortified and glad that Bill couldn’t see it.

Bill was busy holding Sam by the hips while he dry-humped her cute little ass. It felt so good feeling the silky panties on his throbbing cock, her soft ass-cheeks caressing it while he gazed at her creamy buttocks swathed in those delicious panties, pinked by the thrashing he had given her.

Bill grunted as his orgasm approached and Sam could feel his thrusts becoming harder and faster. She gasped. His cock felt so good on her ass, his violent thrusting was causing her panties to rub on her cock and she was close to an involuntary orgasm.

She felt the scalding hot mess on her ass as Bill’s cock erupted. He gripped her tight by the hips and pushed his cock into her ass-crack and she felt his issue on her burning buttocks and her sensitive sphincter. She could smell the muskiness of it. He must not have ejaculated for some time because he continued to squirt his jism on her ass for what seemed like an eternity.

This ignited Sam’s own climax and she flooded her panties. Sam gasped and wriggled her buttocks involuntarily, it was a reflex action but Bill loved the feel of her soft ass wiggling against his steely shaft. He kept her pressed against the desk until the last of his spend dribbled from his cock then he stepped back, snatched a tissue off his desk and wiped his cock before putting it away.

Sam was bent over the desk too frightened to move. Bill put the box of Kleenex next to her face.

“Clean that mess up. Make sure you’re dressed nice this afternoon because I’m picking you up at four o’clock for drinks,” Bill pretended he was interested in some correspondence he had picked up off his desk.

“We’re going on a date? You’re insane!’ Sam laughed hysterically.

“I'm not the one dressed as girl with my skirt hiked up my ass bent over the Company Commander’s desk Sam. So who's insane,” Bill said bitingly.

Bill’s feigned interest in the document he was holding gave Sam the opportunity to dab at the mess in the front of her panties with a Kleenex. There was no way she was going to let Bill see that she had climaxed during the ordeal. Then she took another wad of tissues and wiped her ass but her panties were saturated with semen and there wasn't much she could do and if she was honest wanted to do. The silky garment, clammy with Bill’s cum felt very provocative and naughty as she pulled down and straightened her skirt.

“Can you at least drive me to my house so I don’t have to walk there in these heels,” Sam asked begrudgingly.

“Wendy is waiting for you downstairs in my jeep. She’s taking you shopping,” Bill said dismissively.

“You’ve thought of everything haven't you Bill?” Sam said indignantly but it was difficult to be indignant when your panties are soaked in semen under your skirt and you secretly like the feeling.

“Be ready at four,” Bill said and turned his back on her.

Downstairs Wendy was sitting in the jeep with a shit grin on her face.

“Did he fuck you or just make you blow him?” Wendy said insolently.

“Neither,” Sam sniped as she sat down in the passenger seat, her ass squidgy with wet semen.

“He did something. You’ve got that post-coital glow,” Wendy teased.

“I’ve got a glow on my ass where he whipped me,” Sam replied indignantly.

“Was it fun?” Wendy continued to tease.

“It was demeaning,” Sam sighed.

“You're really liking this aren’t you?” Sam turned to Wendy.

“I don’t mind it all. I get to spend all day in drag and won’t have to carry out any of those shitty little jobs any longer. The men can do those while I polish my nails,” she tittered.

“What about the indignity?” Sam spat.

“Indignity? You mean being lusted after by strong young men? You know I’m a faggot! That’s my dream. The only pain in the ass is having to keep dressing like this,” Wendy put the jeep in gear.

“I’m putting all this in my diary. When Flagg hears about this there will be hell to pay!” Sam was outraged.

“Yeah, right, Flagg,” Wendy said dismissively as they drove off to the department store.

As soon as they got there Sam made an excuse to use the ladies, snatching up a pair of panties off the shelf on the way. She shucked out of her cum-soaked panties and dried herself with handtowels and put on the clean panties. She couldn’t help but bring the cum-spattered panties to her nose and inhale the musky scent of Bill’s spunk but then she came to her senses and threw them in the trash.

Wendy was loading up a shopping cart with lingerie and Sam joined her, loading up her own cart.

“There are plenty of nylons on the rack but they’re not inexhaustible. Depending on how long this study goes on stocks might get low. Best try not to snag your stockings and make them last,” Wendy said as she threw half a dozen packets in her trolley.

“Maybe you can requisition some with the next delivery of fresh vegetables,” Sam said snarkily.

“Maybe I will,” Wendy replied smartly.

Sam loaded her trolley with lingerie, cosmetics and other feminine accoutrements then she and Wendy spent a leisurely two hours trying on different outfits. Sam quite enjoyed trying on skirts, blouses, dresses and tops and she could see that Wendy did too.

Sam decided that if she was going to be forced to live as woman then she was going to look her best. She just had to reconcile herself with the sex. Had she liked it? She had to admit that she had but she didn’t want anyone else to know.

Wendy came over and studied Sam’s face and Sam looked back a little bemused.

“Take your wig off,” Wendy said.

“What?” Sam was confused.

Wendy reached out and snatched Sam’s wig off her head and Sam was about to protest when Wendy spoke.

“You have enough hair there that I can style it into a pixie cut,” Wendy said studying Sam’s head.

“What?” Sam repeated herself.

“Put your stuff in the jeep and follow me to the hairdressers,” Wendy turned and began to push her cart towards the entrance and Sam followed.

Wendy was quite the accomplished hairdresser; she had learned the skill styling wigs and cutting hair on ships she had served on. Sam was quite taken with the pixie cut; if anything it made her look younger and emphasised her cheekbones and luscious red lips. Wendy dropped Sam off at her house and left her to her own devices.

Sam wasn't sure how she felt about Wendy; she was a little too accepting of the circumstances and had certainly been a willing participant in the incident in the alley. Was she complicit? Had she helped Bill Brody put this scheme together or had she suggested it to him?

Sam unwrapped her packages and put her new clothes away. Sorting out all the cosmetics and laying them out on her vanity took a little while and when she had finished she admitted to herself that she quite liked doing so. Seeing all the little jars, tubes and palettes lined up under the mirror was comforting but it was also a little final. Bringing the cosmetics and clothes to her house and styling her hair meant that she was committed to living as a woman. There was sense of certainty and excitement but also dread.

She took a nap and arose with plenty of time to get ready for the evening. After showering she appraised herself in the mirror. She was petite and lithe but curvy, with a flat stomach and long legs. Her alabaster skin was unblemished and smooth. She didn’t mind that she was small-chested; her body was still feminine. Sam had been teased during basic for being so small and having a girly body and the medical corps had been a safe haven.

That was until two Airmen threatened to beat Samuel and bugger him unless he stole drugs for them. Once he had committed the first offence he had no choice but to keep stealing and when he was caught he refused to tell the investigators who he was supplying the drugs to. The Airmen had told Sam that no matter where they sent Sam they had friends who would find him and carry out the threats on their behalf.

During incarceration Sam had seen plenty of men taken against their will; some forced to be ‘prison wives’. Tiny effeminate men like herself were grist for the mill in the prison system. Only because his skills were invaluable had Sam escaped by working and living in the infirmary.

Now the wheel had turned. Sam was a prison wife for all intents and purposes. Forced to feminise herself and gratify the lust of desperate men. And what of Bill Brody? He had taken her for himself, made her off limits to the others. He had made his intent clear by what he had done to her in his office but she’d sensed a little reluctance at first. Maybe she could tame the savage beast?

Sam tucked her penis and scrotum between her legs and closed them and posed in the mirror. Except for being flat-chested she could easily pass for a woman… a very pretty woman.

Sam put on her makeup carefully, taking her time and making a few mistakes with her eyeliner but when she’d finished she was happy with the result. It was amazing what cosmetics did to her face. Her face was delicate anyway but with the application of lipstick, foundation, powder, mascara, eyeliner and rouge it became exotic and sensual, her emerald-green eyes twinkled.

She opened the wardrobe and surveyed the clothing she had taken from department store. Where had her sense of style and appreciation of fashion come from? Sam had always admired women who dressed well but had never been tempted to don the garments himself or had she? Sam recalled playing dressup with her big sister when they were young and Sam’s father finding them and giving them a spanking.

The recollection was vivid and Sam’s sore buttocks reminded her that someone else very close to her was not averse to using the belt. She had put some lotion on her bottom and it had eased the pain but it was still a little sore. Not a burning pain, just a continual reminder that she had been naughty.

“You naughty girl,” Sam said into the mirror on the wardrobe door and then blushed with embarrassment.

Once again the sensation was indescribably delicious as she rolled her stockings up her legs and clipped them to the garters. She smoothed them and straightened the seams and marvelled that wearing such a garment could bring her so much joy. This included the delight she felt as she slipped her panties up her legs and pulled them tight around her buttocks, carefully tucking away her privates just as Wendy had trained her to do. They were red satin with black lace trim.

Sam put on the bra; it was the smallest cup in the store. Wendy had advised her to get C-cups and pad them out but Sam had decided that she would present herself as authentically as possible and decided not to pad her bra. She put on a white silk blouse and stepped into a red circle-skirt and admired the result in the mirror. She had tried on the skirt in the store but it looked even better now. She accessorised with a matching necklace and clip-on earrings made of white gold and faux rubies. She stepped into her red high heels and admired the result.

She looked less formal than she did in the severe skirt-suit she had been wearing, more bright and cheerful but still beautiful. She sprayed herself liberally with perfume just as she heard her front door open and the sound of boots on her kitchen floor.

“It’s polite to knock and wait,” Sam said to Bill Brody who was in the kitchen pouring a drink from a bottle he had brought with him.

“Want one?” Bill waved the bottle at her.

“There is to be alcohol allowed outside of the prescribed opening hours of the Copperlode bar,” Sam quoted one of Bill’s many rules back at him.

“I’m the boss so I’ll give you a dispensation,” he said handing her a glass of whisky, a cheeky grin on his face.

His fingers lingered on hers when she took it.

“You look very nice; very pretty Sam,” Bill raised his glass and took a sip.

Sam accepted the compliment but she was still a little trepidatious being alone with Bill in her home; it was very intimate and to be honest, a little weird.

Bill stepped in close and took Sam’s drink from her and put it down. He gazed into her eyes and studied her face. He was conflicted because he knew that under that womanly countenance lived Samuel Steele but Bill saw no sign of him. He saw only Samantha and that was good. He was infatuated with Samantha and Samuel had disappeared off the face of the earth.

That was the real reason he had directed that: henceforth Airman Samantha Steele and Petty Officer Wendy Meakins will present themselves as women. He could give two shits about the other men’s morale; he wanted Sam all to himself but couldn’t live with the guilt and conflict if he kept seeing Samuel around Villawood. Samuel needed to be banished.

“It’s customary for a man’s woman to greet him with a kiss,” Bill whispered.

“So I’m your woman now?” Sam searched his ice-blue eyes.

There was no doubt that Sam William Brody was a good looking man. He kept himself in good shape and he was tanned, lean and rangy, his teeth white, his breath was fresh and his sandy hair cut short in a military crew cut. Her alter ego would never consider a man as handsome, but Samantha’s brain didn’t seem to work the same as Samuel’s. She actually thought like a woman.

“You're my comfort woman and I want comfort,” Bill pulled Sam into his arms and kissed her.

It wasn't the same as with Victor. Bill kissed her softly; he held her close but he wasn't stifling. Sam’s arms remained by her sides and her lips remained firmly shut. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that she felt perfectly content in his embrace. She recalled Bill’s conversation with her in the Copperlode: telling her that she thought she was hot shit, telling she was dressed like a floozy, taunting her about putting the episode in her diary (which she had by the way) and of course there was this morning’s spanking.

Bill was persistent but still tender with her, his kisses remained soft and gentle and it was hard to deny him. Sam was really enjoying being held by him, feeling the rasp of his 5 o’clock shadow on her cheeks, smelling his cologne, feeling his taunt body against her slender self, and those soft lips were delicious.

Bill broke the kiss and Sam was sad that he had done so.

“You really are a beautiful woman,” Bill sighed.

He pulled her tight and kissed her harder, more instant, pressing his tongue against her mouth.

There was the Bill she expected! The one who demanded what he wanted and expected to get it. But wasn’t she also a little delighted by that? That he wanted her so bad he was prepared to take what he wanted. Wasn’t that a little exciting? Should she be flattered? Should she berate herself for liking it? Should she berate herself for the feelings of femininity and also the feelings of power his lust for her illicited?

Bill leaned into Sam and she involuntarily put her arms around him to stay on her feet. It was instinct right? She was still getting used to wearing high heels right?

Then why was she pressing her lips against his and opening her mouth for him? Why did she greet his tongue when it slipped into her mouth with her own? Why did the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of his body make her feel a little giddy? Why was her penis distending uncomfortably along her perineum?

Bill sighed contentedly and continued to kiss her and Sam allowed herself to enjoy the experience and stop playing head games. One of Bill’s hands had moved from the small of her back and found its way to her ass and was gently squeezing it but Sam made attempt to move it. It felt comforting and besides her circle-skirt would make it difficult for Bill’s hand to proceed any further.

Bill was surprised and delighted when Sam returned his kisses. It was just as he had dreamed it would be. She felt so delicate and precious in his embrace, she smelled divinely and she tasted sweet. He allowed his hand to drift form her shoulder, down the small of her back, her silk blouse felt sensually sleek to his touch and then he found her buttocks and was able to cup them and softly squeeze them.

Sam had presented herself magnificently in the red circle-skirt, white silk blouse and red high heels; he even liked her new hairstyle which made her look younger and opened her face. But the construct of the skirt, the way it flared, made it difficult for him to get to those long sexy legs. The legs that had kept him awake last night even after he had masturbated thinking about them and her ass in the tight-fitting pencil skirt.

He wondered if she had worn the skirt deliberately to make it difficult for him to get to her nether regions and her legs. Bill suppressed his knowledge of what was inside the front of her panties; he lusted only after what was in the back of them: those rounded soft shapely buttocks, encased in gauzy satin, nylon or rayon.

Bill became tumescent and wanted relief.

Sam could feel Bill’s hard cock pressing into her belly. She imagined she could actually feel the girth and the heat of it. She had felt it pressed to her buttocks only this morning so she knew what it felt like but this different. He was kissing her, he was stroking her ass, he was whispering endearments between passionate kisses, he was being charming.

Conflicting emotions welled up and Sam was confused. She asked herself two questions: Was she afraid? Was she aroused? The answer to both was yes and the solution appeared to be to submit to Bill’s desires and save herself from his wrath and a possible belting or was she justifying her behaviour by projecting that Bill would become angry if she refused him?

The point was moot because when Bill gently guided her hand to the front of his pants she instinctively and competently took his phallus in her hand and squeezed it.

Bill gasped and so did she.

Their kisses became more passionate and Sam got out of her head and into the present and found herself utterly enamoured with Bill. His body was powerful and so was his phallus. Sam squeezed it again and felt it throb. That sense of power returned as she pressed her lipsticked-lips to his, slithered her tongue in his mouth and began to stroke Bill’s cock through his pants.

Bill squeezed her ass and pawed at it; his fingers pressing into her soft flesh. The feel of his hand through the heavy fabric of her skirt was very satisfying but more importantly the feel of her buttocks being caressed through her red satin panties felt very lascivious.

Bill led Sam’s hand to his flies and she unzipped them without hesitation. He was wearing a nice pair of cotton slacks, an open-collared shirt and light jacket rather than his fatigues and the zipper was easy to manipulate. Now that she had him unzipped she lost her confidence and got back into her head.

Why was she doing this? Because if she relieved him with her hand he would not demand anything else from her she lied to herself. Having justified her actions to herself she slipped her fingers into Bill’s pants and found his warm, sleek flesh, rampant and coiled like a dozing snake waiting to be awakened.

Sam awakened it, freeing it from the confines of his trousers and holding it tightly. It felt like she was holding a dangerous and powerful smooth-skinned reptile. Sam began to lightly stroke the pulsing organ and Bill moaned into her mouth and his whole body shuddered. He held her even tighter, his fingers dug into her buttocks, his mouth pressed on hers as Sam used featherlight strokes to tease and delight the long, thick, sleek appendage with her delicate fingers.

Bill was overwhelmed with the sensations that Sam was eliciting from his throbbing manhood. Rings of delight radiated from his cock and combined with the sensuality he felt by holding her in his arms, caressing her ass and kissing her deeply. His cock began to dribble pre-ejaculate and Sam expertly gathered it and used it to lubricate the head and the shaft.

Sam was almost delirious with desire and was acting instinctively. Her cock had somehow managed to free itself from between her legs and pressed against the fabric of her panties and her testes had descended into her scrotal sac. She hoped that the flare of her skirt and the heavy material hid the evidence of her tumescence from Bill as he pressed his body against her. Whenever he moved slightly her cock rubbed against her satin panties.

She could feel that she had wet the front of her panties with her pre-coital discharge and her cock was so sensitive with arousal that she was afraid that she would ejaculate right then and there.

This caused Sam to grip Bill’s cock tighter and to earnestly stroke it. She felt the veins swell and the glans balloon to its full girth just before Bill ejaculated in her hand.

His seed felt like hot lava on her fingers, hand and wrist but she didn’t stop. In fact the salacity of the act of masturbating him to fulfilment spurned her on and she whipped her hand up and down Bill’s cock, milking it of every drop. His cock erupted and his semen sprayed everywhere. She felt it spatter on her legs, on her feet, soak into her dress and splatter on her arm, seeming to scorch her flesh.

She ground her body against his, mashing his lips with hers and wriggling her tongue in his mouth. Bill was overcome with pleasure and was astounded at Sam’s audacity. She was in charge and he was revelling in it. He subconsciously repressed the conception that he could feel a protuberance through her skirt pressing on him and a warm wetness blooming on the leg of his pants as Sam writhed against him like a slattern.

Sam had felt her own orgasm blossoming just as Bill’s cock had exploded in her hand and pressed her crotch against his upper leg and ground her pubis against his hard muscled thigh. Her orgasm exploded and her cock jittered in her tight satin panties and released a flood of hot semen. The volume of her ejaculation was such that it saturated her panties and soaked into her skirt.

The two lovers held each other tight, squeezing and caressing, kissing and canoodling, Bill spattering his seed on Sam’s body and legs and Sam filling her panties with her issue, drenching her underwear and skirt.

They clung to each other as their orgasms began so subside both of them overwhelmed and a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go that far,” Bill whispered.

“I’m as much to blame,” Sam said softly.

She could feel Bill’s semen soaking into her nylons and her skirt; her fingers and forearm were doused with his slippery issue. She was well aware that the front of her skirt was sodden with her own spend and her wet panties clung to her diminishing erection. Bill’s penis was becoming flaccid and Sam released it and Bill self-consciously stuffed it back inside his flies and zipped.

He stopped squeezing her ass but his hand remained comfortingly cupping her buttock. Their kisses became soft and a little awkward. Post-coital embarrassment overcame them both.

“I should probably go home and change. I’ll meet you at the Copperlode,” Bill held Sam by her upper arms and stared into her brilliant green eyes.

She was still beautiful, there was no doubting that but now that he had sated his lust Bill wondered if what he had done was proper. He had lusted after this attractive, feminine woman knowing that she was really an imposter but she didn’t look like one, she didn’t feel like one and she certainly didn’t behave like one.

But the evidence was right there on the leg of his pants and the front of her skirt.

A sense of reluctance and regret settled over Bill and he released Sam from his embrace.

“I’ll see you there,” Bill whispered and turned on his heels to leave.

He hadn't met her eyes when he spoke.

Sam looked down at the spreading stain on the front of her skirt and the dribbles of spunk clinging to her stockings, a gobbet of white coagulate pooled on her high heel. Her hand and forearm were sticky. She stepped up to the sink and ran the water, washing her hands and her arms. She took a dishrag and wiped away the blob of semen off her shoe and carefully dabbed at the rivulets clinging to her nylons. She kicked off her shoes and lifted her skirts and unclipped the welts of her stockings and rolled them off and carefully rinsed them under warm water and hung them on the towel rack to dry then she padded upstairs holding her high heels in one hand.

Sam slipped out of her skirt and sodden panties and went into the bathroom and cleaned herself with a warm washcloth. She put on a clean pair of nylon panties; they were yellow with white lace. Dressed only her panties and blouse she went down to the basement and put her skirt into the washer. The red panties went into a lingerie bag and followed the skirt along with washing soap; then she switched on the washer.

Returning to her bedroom she opened a package of fully-fashioned stockings, fleshtoned with black reinforcements and backseams. She delighted in the feel of the nylons on her legs as she put them on but there was no sense of arousal, Bill had extinguished her lust. She pushed the garters through the legholes of her panties and clipped the garters to the stockings and straightened her seams. She selected a green poodle skirt and stepped into it. Her blouse was still clean and did not need to be replaced.

She kicked away her red heels and stepped into a black pair and then she sat at her vanity and freshened her makeup and put on the lipstick that Bill had kissed away.

Now that the practicalities were taken care of she had time to think. Bill seemed awkward and reticent after they had been intimate and that should have been her role; she should have been feeling disconcerted. Bill hadn't forced himself on her physically but she had no choice except to accept his advances and be compliant and accommodating. ‘There went that justification again,’ she thought to herself.

She rallied. It’s just what it was! She was Bill’s comfort girl and so far the worst that she could envisage had not happened. Fuck Bill Brody! It was his idea… no it was his order that she was to be his comfort woman and if he couldn’t deal with the consequences well that was his problem.

She snatched up her cigarettes and threw them in her purse, checking she had her compact, lipstick and hairbrush, and stormed out the door.

Sam needed a drink and she knew just where to get one!

Dale Snitterman was sitting alone watching the action. Buddy Flintock was dancing with Wendy while Victor looked on enviously. Buddy had his hand on Wendy’s ass and was gently squeezing it and Wendy didn’t seem to mind at all. She was wearing a blue and white striped dress with a smooth fitting bodice, billowing gathered, skirt, Peter Pan collar and sleeve cuffs. Her legs were encased in sheer taupe stockings and feet shod in white heels. As usual her makeup was heavy. Her lipstick was smudged because Buddy kept kissing her.

Victor turned and watched Sam enter the bar, his eyes roamed over body. They were hungry and lecherous and Sam recalled what she had been forced to do to him in the alley behind the Copperlode and shuddered. Dale watched their silent exchange as Sam glared at him, daring him to make a move knowing that Bill Brody had claimed her for himself.

Sam went to bar and poured herself a drink and drank it quickly. Then she made a round of everyone’s favourites and loaded the drinks on a tray and delivered them to the tables. Victor was a little drunk and made an easily evaded pass at her trying to grab her ass.

Bill arrived not long after. He had changed his pants and there was no evidence of Sam’s transgression. Bill must have known that it was her semen on the leg of his pants. She thought that it was the sight of her semen on his pants that broke the fantasy for him that he was canoodling with a real woman.

Bill sat down beside Sam at a separate table to the others and he was morose and broody. He concentrated on drinking and it wasn’t until he was well in his cups that he asked Sam to dance. All evening Buddy and Victor had been taking turns dancing with Wendy and at one stage of the evening Wendy and Buddy disappeared for about fifteen minutes. On the pretext of freshening their drinks Sam had gone behind the bar and then out back to the rear entrance. She opened the door and peered into the alley.

Buddy had Wendy pressed against the wall supporting her herself with her hands on the clapboards while Buddy was behind her, between her legs buggering her. She gave little yips as Buddy thrust himself into her but they were not yips of pain they were yip of pleasure. She was encouraging him, grinding her fat ass into his crotch as he held her by the hips and drove his cock into her.

Sam silently closed the door; the picture burned into her brain and it would return later that night as she lay in bed in her satin nightgown, tenting her nylon panties with an erection.

A little while after Buddy and Wendy returned to the bar, Victor was up dancing with Wendy when he took her by the hand and led her out back. She went willingly and made no attempt to disguise what they were up to. She was a comfort woman and she was just doing her job.

Sam was able to talk to Wendy later in the evening and Wendy told her that Buddy and Victor had hardly left her alone.

“They keep fucking me every time their dicks get hard and will continue to do so until the novelty wears off then I suspect things will settle down. They will keep fucking me but not so much,” Wendy said resigned to her fate.

“How are things with the boss?” Wendy gave a Sam a salacious smile and ashed her cigarette.

“After everyone left the meeting he spanked me because I was uncooperative and disruptive. He had his way with me and he came over to my house later and had his way with me again,” Sam was reluctant to go into details and Wendy understood.

“I overheard Buddy and Victor complaining that you are off limits. You’re younger and prettier and men always want what they can’t have so be careful,” Wendy said cautiously, looking sideways at the two engineers.

“What do you make of Snitterman?” Sam asked.

“He hasn’t asked for anything. He seems content to watch,” Wendy took a gulp of her drink.

“Maybe that’s his thing? Anyway I better get back to my boys. My asshole feels like grand central station, not that I’m complaining, but I hope those boys have had their fill,” Wendy smiled wickedly and got up and went back to her table with Buddy and Victor.

Bill was pleasant enough but his mind seemed elsewhere. He complimented Sam on her looks, danced with her and even kissed her a little but there was little passion. He walked her home and kissed her almost chastely on the lips and said goodnight. Sam didn’t know if she was pleased that he was leaving or disappointed. The more she thought about his actions the more angry she got. Was she behaving like a girl being spurned by her boyfriend or a woman rejected by her lover? Shouldn’t she be glad that Bill Brody had not insisted on coming inside. Did she secretly wish he was lying beside her?

Sam finished writing in her diary, turned out the light and pulled up the comforter.

“Fuck you Bill Brody,” Sam whispered into the cold dark night and fell into a fitful sleep.

At the Monday morning parade Wendy in her role as Company clerk collected the diaries. She looked the part dressed in a smart business suit, showing a little leg and some décolletage. Being a heftier girl she could fill a c-cup nicely.

Bill glared at Sam. Although she was wearing full makeup she was wearing her usual light green surgical scrubs and white flat shoes. She glared back at him as she handed over her diary to Wendy. Bill went through his usual routine of issuing a work plan for the week and allocating collateral duties.

The town garbage dump needed attention. Although there were only six residents in Villawood their detritus was considerable and the weekly garbage haul had created a considerable sized mound over the months that they had resided in the town. A hole needed to be dug and the garbage buried for health and hygiene reasons.

“Flintock and Benning are certified on the loader and the digger, Snitterman you drive the dozer and Nurse Steele, as you are dressed appropriately, you can ensure the site is left sanitary and up to code,” Bill turned to her.

“Didn’t you say that comfort women are excused collateral duties?” Sam sniped back at him.

“Yes but health and safety are your forte, along with your medical acumen,” Bill countered.

“It’s a bullshit detail Bob!” Sam stamped his feet.

“Company dismissed. Nurse Steele, accompany me to my office,” Bill growled.

Underneath her scrubs Sam was wearing pretty pink nylon panties. After Bill applied his belt to her ass, Sam’s buttocks matched the pink nylon almost exactly. This time Bill made no sexual advances although Sam felt a little tingle in her penis when she pulled up her panties after the belting.

“Don’t you ever backchat me again in front of the men Sam,” Bill growled.

“And if you wanna wear those fucking awful pants and smock instead of dressing like a proper nurse, you can take on the shit details that come with it!” he pointed at her scrubs.

Sam stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her, her ass stinging.

It wasn’t so much the belting, Bill applied the belt carefully: just hard enough to sting and turn her pale flesh pink but not hard enough to produce real pain or to leave permanent marks. It was the indignation of bending over the desk and having Bill pull down her panties and exposing her bottom before he applied the belt. It was degrading and Bill knew it was. It was a means of controlling her.

As she strode to the Infirmary she wasn't sure if she was more pissed that Bill had paid little attention to her at the Copperlode last night or at his anger with her for arguing about the collateral duties and her audacity to wear surgical scrubs. She wished that Bill would make up his mind. Did he really want her or was he repulsed by her? Had he made a mistake when he turned Wendy and Sam into comfort women? When he was hot and horny he desired her but afterwards he was plagued by post-coital regret.

Bill drank the hot coffee that Wendy had set before him when she brought in the diaries and other paperwork. Bill was hesitant. What would the others write in their diaries about his decision to introduce the comfort women?

He was relieved but not surprised when he read Flintock and Benning’s diaries. They made no mention of the comfort women. Why would they? They wouldn’t want Flagg to send in enforcers to make them cease their depravity. Buddy and Victor had the most to gain sharing Wendy between them and they were certainly putting her to good use; not that she seemed to mind.

Wendy Meakins had couched the subject in a shroud of half-truths. She had written that she had taken to providing entertainment in the evening by reprising her drag show, performing at The Copperlode Bar. Wendy had further confided that Airman Sam Steele had joined her in the act and was becoming quite accomplished.

This was very inventive and Bill amended his diary accordingly to the effect that Petty Officer Meakins had asked permission to perform a drag show at the Copperlode and he had granted the request in the interests of morale.

Dale Snitterman made a comment that he enjoyed being entertained by the nightly performances put on by Wendy and Sam dressed in drag but left it at that.

Samantha Steel’s diary was explosive. She complained about being forced to crossdress as a woman and about being spanked by Brody when she was disobedient or complained. She also complained about being bullied and assaulted by the others, implying that she and Wendy were being coerced into providing sexual favours although she didn’t go into specific detail as to what these acts entailed.

Bill took a razor blade and carefully cut out the pages of Sam’s diary containing the inflammatory allegations. In his best penmanship he mimicked Sam’s neat printing and made an entry to an effect that Sam was learning to perform in drag and entertain the troops under the stewardship of Wendy Meakins and that she found the task interesting and a satisfying diversion from the boredom of routine.

He scrutinized and approved some requisitions for victuals and mechanical supplies and called Wendy into his office and handed her the paperwork and the diaries. She climbed into the jeep and deposited diaries and requisitions in the locked mailbox at the front gate. Specialist Munroe arrived a few minutes later to unlock the box and put the contents in his dispatch box. Had he been there five minutes earlier he would have been surprised to see Petty Officer Meakins dressed very convincingly as a woman.

On her way back to the town hall Wendy stopped at the workshop and as promised she gave Buddy and Victor a quick blowjob. Buddy wanted to fuck her but she wouldn't let him because she didn’t want Bill becoming suspicious of her long absences. Besides, they needed to get their asses down to the town dump and start dealing with the garbage problem.

When Wendy returned to the town hall Bill commandeered the jeep and took a leisurely drive around the small town and was pleased to see that the place was being well maintained. He drove the fence line and saw no breeches. He waved at a couple of technicians working on part of the fence but kept going. Engaging with anyone outside the wire was strictly forbidden. Flagg didn’t want his experiment contaminated by outside influences.

He arrived at the dump to see Dale Snitterman bulldozing the pile of garbage into a huge hole dug by Buddy Flintock and Victor Benning using the digger and the font-end loader. They were sitting on one of the big yellow machines smoking and taking delight at Sam’s discomfort as she picked her way around the slowly diminishing mound of garbage ticking useless boxes on a useless form that Bill would file and forget about.

She saw Bill pull up in the jeep and go over to Buddy and Victor and bum a cigarette. His mood had changed and he appeared amicable and talkative. He joined in the laughter at Sam’s discomfort and her cheeks burnt with rage.

When the garbage had been buried and a cap of topsoil placed over it, compacted by the machinery, the job was done. Buddy and Victor went back to the workshop, they had a generator to service and Dale went back to the Cobalt Café to prepare the evening meal. Everyone had been provided with lack lunches today because the dump detail was an all-day job.

Sam was walking back to the infirmary when Bill Brody pulled up beside her in his jeep.

“Hop in Sam, I’ll give you a ride,” he said cheerfully enough.

Sam strode on indignantly looking at the ground, ignoring him. She was fuming.

“Ok. Get in the jeep Nurse Steele before I jump out and throw your tiny ass in the passenger seat anyway,” Bill said pleasantly enough.

Sam climbed into the jeep and sulked all the way to the infirmary were she hopped out of the jeep and went inside with Bill following.

“I stink and that was a pointless exercise. Any one of those guys could have filled in this paperwork,” she tossed the clipboard on the desk.

The form was an Excelsior Mining Company proforma listing the date the task was undertaken, the location, the amount of garbage buried, the main composition of the fill, which in this case was just household trash, and the depth to which it was buried. All mundane information but important to a mining company who was regularly scrutinised for their dumping practices and audited accordingly. As the Excelsior Mining Company no longer had a lease on Villawood the whole exercise was moot.

“More busywork as punishment for me airing my views,” Sam began to undo her smock and Bill watched her, amused by her indignity as always.

“If you had been wearing that nurse’s uniform I wouldn’t have made you do the job because it would have been impractical,” Bill had followed Sam into the staff ablutions and pointed to a pristine white nurse’s uniform hanging from one of the lockers on a coat hanger.

“I keep telling you I'm a Corpsman not a nurse!” Sam stamped her bare foot and shucked out of her scrub pants and stood before him dressed only in her panties.

“Take a shower, fix your face and put on the fucking nurse’s uniform,” Bill said calmly but forcefully.

“Or what Bill? You’ll belt me into it!” Sam hissed.

“Your choice Sam,” Bill smiled at her sweetly and she hated him for it.

Bill amused himself in the infirmary while Sam showered, put on her makeup and dressed. The crisp white nurse’s uniform fitted her perfectly, belted around her slim waist, open at the collar to show her clavicles a little and the pleated skirt kissed her knees, her legs swathed in opaque white stockings and her feet shod in the white high heels Bill had obligingly brought from her house. She fitted the little cap to her hair and checked herself out in the mirror.

If she there was ever male patient in this infirmary, this was the nurse he wanted tending to his needs. Sam couldn’t help but admire herself even though she was pissed that once again Bill Brody had gotten his way.

When she came into the infirmary Bill Brody’s breath was taken away. He pulled Sam into his arms and kissed her. She didn’t return his kiss even though she enjoyed being held in his arms and his sweet tender kisses.

“You look beautiful. You look so elegant when you dress for the Copperlode so why won’t you dress like this for me during the working week?” Bill nuzzled her neck and Sam shivered with desire.

“You run hot and cold Bill. One minute you can’t get enough of me but when you're done with me you treat me like I’m a burden,” Sam replied.

“Done with you?” Bill’s brow furrowed.

“When you’ve finished having sex,” Sam blushed.

Bill’s temper began to broil.

“We haven’t had sex,” Bill hissed.

“Then what do you call it?” Sam couldn’t help needling him.

“Ok let’s have sex,” Bill grinned at her and Sam was suddenly shocked.

She’d pushed his buttons one too many times.

Bill pulled Sam into his arms and kissed her passionately and she couldn’t help but respond. He was handsome and such a good kisser and hadn't she yearned for him last night? Didn’t she yearn for him now?

She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue and offered her own. She had to stand on tiptoes but Bill held her tight and supported her. Sam was trepidatious. Bill had told her they were going to have sex but what was that going to entail? She decided that she would take the lead and ensure they enjoyed each other without any need for her to feel degraded. A little mutual masturbation maybe? She was even willing to fellate him.

Sam could feel Bill’s cock pressing into her and she unbuttoned his fatigues and freed his manhood. It was steely hard and dripping precum which she used to lubricate the shaft and glands and slowly stroked it. It felt so sleek and powerful in her fingers as she traced the veins, caressed the corona of his glans, tickled his frenulum and massaged the droplets of pre-ejaculate that she milked from it into his flesh.

Her own cock had sprung free and was tenting her panties. She was so enamoured and excited by him. The turmoil in him was excruciating but when he held her and caressed her and showed her how much he desired her she couldn’t help but succumb to his will.

Bill surprised her when he opened the top buttons of her tunic and pulled down the cups of her lace bra to expose her flat chest. He nuzzled a nipple and it radiated a seductive sensation that she hadn’t felt before. He moved to her other nipple and suckled it and she cradled his head. He used his lips and his tongue to suckle it and gently nipped it with his teeth which sent little shocks of delight through her torso. Sam was surprised that Bill would have any interest in her bosom but she liked what he was doing there.

She went back to stroking his cock which was poking her in the belly and she redirected it so that it was trapped between her thighs and she closed her legs around it so Bill could rub it on her white silk stockings. Bill delighted in the feel of the delicate hose on his flesh; they were so soft and silky. He returned his face to hers and drank in her beauty before he kissed her.

Sam put her hands around his neck and returned his kisses and swayed back and forth so that Bill was effectively fucking her thighs. The top of his cock was pressing against her nylon panties and unknown to him rubbing on her scrotum. It was Sam’s plan that she would bring him to extremis this way. She knew that he loved to rub his cock on her stockings and this way she could come with him and he would never know that she was ejaculating along with him when he saturated her stocking tops and panties with his semen as he climaxed.

But Sam had miscalculated. Bill pressed Sam into the stainless steel examination table and it was digging uncomfortably into the small of her back.

But not for long because Bill lifted Sam off her feet and set her down on the table. She automatically wrapped her legs around him and drew him close, still kissing him, still keeping her arms wrapped around his neck holding him tightly. She hardly noticed him unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor until her nylon-sheathed thighs rubbed on his muscled hairy legs.

She opened his shirt and helped him take it off along with his skivvies and she raked her fingers across his chest wanting to feel his ripped body. He felt so warm, hard and masculine and the more masculine he felt, the more feminine she felt. Bill gazed down at her as Sam raked her red fingernails across his torso, delighting in the feel of her nails scratching him. His cock was rampant, a rope of silvery precum oozed from the eye.

He wanted this woman so bad and now he was going to take her.

Sam screamed in surprise and shock when Bill pried her legs wide open and exposed her white nylon panties. He ignored the package bulging the front of her panties and took in the vista of Sam’s legs spread wide, encased in the white silk nurse’s stockings, the bands at the top a creamy white, almost the same colour as her flesh, clipped to her garters. The gusset of her panties hiding the secret he was searching for.

He pulled her legs higher and pushed Sam back so that her buttocks were exposed, encased in those sexy white panties.

“No Bill, don’t!” Sam pleaded as Bill eased aside the crotch of her panties guided his hard cock to her puckered bud.

Sam screamed as Bill’s cock pierced her virgin sphincter. His pre-ejaculate eased his entrance a little but not much and Sam felt like she was being torn open when Bill’s cock slipped past her puckered bud.

“Take it out Bill please. It’s killing me!” Sam sobbed.

But Bill couldn’t even if he wanted to. Seeing Sam lying on her back, her long sexy legs high in the air, her buttocks brazenly displayed, her dress hiked up, her pretty face painted and framed by that brunette pixie cut was a sight beholden. He leaned down to kiss her but Sam shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face.

Bill pushed and another inch went inside Sam’s tight anus and this time she screamed so loud that it hurt his ears. Sam’s tight ass clenching his hard cock felt so good but he knew that he was hurting her. Raping her. She pushed against him and beat his chest with her fists and kicked her legs, trying to break free but he held her tightly.

Bill’s cock felt like a hot steel rod had been driven into her anus and the pain was excruciating. She struggled as much as she could but Bill held her down on the examination table and she was certain that he was not going to stop. Then it occurred to her where they were and that her salvation was at hand.

“Stop please Bill and I can make this better for you,” Sam breathed around the pain, trying to reason with him.

“No! I like it,” Bill smiled down at her wickedly.

“The top drawer. There is a tube of lubricant for rectal examinations. Take it out and use it. It will be better for us both,” Sam said through gritted teeth hoping he would see reason.

Bill stopped what he was doing and opened the drawer and searched for the item while Sam lay there feeling utterly degraded with her legs in the air, impaled on three inches of Sam Brody’s cock, waiting impatiently for him to find some lube.

“Is this it?” Bill held up the blue and white tube and Sam nodded vigorously.

Bill extracted his penis from her anus and it hurt almost as much as when he had pushed it inside her and Sam winced.

“Here; you do it,” Bill unscrewed the cap and pressed the tube into her hand.

Sam had to suffer the degradation of slathering Bill’s cock with the lubricant but she made sure she applied a thick layer.

“Put it in,” Bill smiled down at her sweetly.

Now she had to suffer the humiliation of actually guiding Bill’s cock into her asshole.

She put the glans of Bill’s penis on her sphincter and closed her eyes in anticipation of the excruciating pain.

Instead Bill rubbed his lubricated cock on her puckered bud and little ripples of pleasure began to bloom from her sphincter.

“Oh my,” Sam gasped; surprised at how wonderful it felt.

Bill kissed her and Sam returned the kiss. This was wonderful. It was a very unique and surprising situation and Sam was surprised that it could feel so good. When Bill thought Sam was ready he kissed her harder and gently pushed a third of his cock inside her tight channel, the lubricant easing his way.

Sam gave a muffled cry into Bill’s mouth when he pierced her but the pain was fleeting. She felt a fullness that was uncomfortable but intangibly nice. Uncomfortable turned to wonderful when Bill eased the rest of his cock inside her and his glans pressed on her prostate.

Being a Corpsman with some medical knowledge Sam knew about the prostate gland and its function. She knew that it could be massaged and milked but didn’t know about the wonderful sensations it produced until Bill began to slowly fuck her.

Sam wriggled her buttocks on the thin mattress to get into a more comfortable position and when Bill was fucking her just right she locked her legs around him and wriggled her buttocks to encourage him. She had never dreamed that being fucked in the ass could be so pleasurable. Ringlets of pleasure radiated from her sphincter and melded with deep pleasurable pulses of delight that Bill wrenched from her prostate every time he thrust into her. She could feel his cock fill her anus and it felt wonderful, powerful and sublime.

Sam felt ultra-feminine and submissive, but also somehow strangely powerful as Bill kissed her passionately and held her close as he fucked her with long slow strokes that produced wondrous sensations that she had never felt before. Her cock was throbbing in her panties and every time Bill thrust into her his belly pressed on her panty-clad penis causing her double pleasure.

She want’s sure if Bill was aware of this and she didn't care. She just wanted him to keep fucking her, keep kissing her, keep holding her and staring into her emerald green eyes as she returned the loving gaze into his icy blue eyes. They weren't just fucking they were making love.

Bill began to increase the tempo as he felt his orgasm approaching and Sam lifted her buttocks higher off the mattress to encourage him.

“Fuck me Bill! Come in me Bill! Oh my god!” Sam screamed.

She orgasmed first. Bill’s cock driving in and out of her tight slick back passage, his shaft grinding on her sphincter, his glans assaulting her prostate, his belly rubbing on her panty-clad cock, combined with the feel of his body and his passionate kisses caused her to climax in a way that she had never experienced before. Her anus was a ball of intense pleasure and her cock throbbed and jittered as it spewed her load into her panties.

Bill felt Sam convulse as she climaxed and it triggered his own orgasm. He drove his cock in and out of her tight anus, jackhammering it as it pulsed and throbbed and blasted her ass full of his hot spend.

The two lovers clung to each other as divine rapture coursed through their bodies. Sam raked her nails on Bill’s back and her heels grazed his flanks, Bill bit and sucked Sam’s neck, bruising her delicate flesh but to her it felt wonderful and salacious. She locked her legs around him to hold him close and she kissed him, wrapping her arms around him, feeling him inside her, never wanting to let him go. Bill had never felt so blissful and contented.

The lovers cradled each other until they started to cramp and then they reluctantly disengaged, a little embarrassed at what they had done. Bill saw the puddle of semen in Sam’s panties and saw that some of it was smeared on his belly. His semen was dribbling from her sphincter and he quickly pulled Sam’s panties back into place to absorb the mess leaking from her ass.

He reached for a handful of clinical sheets from the dispenser on the wall behind the examination table and wiped at his belly and crotch and snatched another handful and pressed them into Sam’s hand.

“Clean yourself up honey,” he whispered but there was no tenderness in his inflection.

Sam felt Bill’s coldness.

How could a man who had committed the most intimate act with her, shown her such tenderness and invoked such pleasure from her, suddenly be so cold and distant? It was happening and again and once again it rankled Sam and brought forth all the insecurities, doubts and distrust that she had felt previously. When Bill was considerate and loving it justified the feelings she felt existing as Samantha but when he became cold and distant in made her feel insecure. Even when he used his belt on her it demonstrated that he had an interest in her but this cold indifference that was the aftermath of every intimate moment was insufferably vexing.

Sam climbed off the examination table and gingerly made her way to the staff ablutions. She dropped her drawers and immediately noticed the unsightly stain in her panties and she gingerly picked them up with her thumb and forefinger and dropped them in the trash.

She had the undignified pleasure of taking a warm soapy facecloth to her nether regions and giving them a good clean while she held her skirts out of the way. She fished a fresh pair of panties out her locker and stepped into them, buttoned the front of her dress, straightened her skirts and fixed her makeup.

On the way out she stopped at the dispensary than she walked all the way to Bill’s office where he was sitting at his desk staring at the ceiling.

Sam walked past Wendy Meakins without saying a word and stormed into Bill’s office.

“This is for you,” She dropped the two packages of K-Y Jelly on his desk.

“And this is for me,” she held up a douche consisting of a white hard plastic nozzle and bright red rubber bulb.

She dropped the douche into her handbag, turned on her heels and stormed out.

Wendy witnessed the exchange and stood in the doorway laughing until Bill told her to fuck off.

To be continued