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Mrs. Hart's Ache Ch. 09

This is the eighteenth installment of

Mrs. Hart's Ache

Chapter IX "…Hail! Hail! The Gangs All Here…!"


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Author's note: see the Index of Terms for the definition of any word with which you are not familiar.
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This is a simple tale of retribution, wherein the young hero teaches the mother of his newest girlfriend a few manners while enjoying a few adventures – sexual and otherwise – along the way.

James Mark Masterson.

Just your typical teenager. Smart… sexy… sophisticated… and always horny. With the time and bank to do pretty much what he wants to do.

And to do who he wants to do.

Okay, the plans are in motion and the team is coming together to go over it all.

James has his muscle and his finesse, but most importantly, he has his base of operations.

He's ready and the ladies are rapidly catching up.

But while they're mulling the plans and they're parts, lets take a few minutes to get to know better a couple of those team members.

You've met them before, but let's get a bit more intimate with Cora and Marti.

Happy Reading.

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Chapter IX "…Hail! Hail! The Gangs All Here…!"

"…As a lady once said, Que sera, sera…"


When I walked out of the FedEx Office, we were committed. I did a status check, and found myself both eager and confident. My team was set, and they were good. All that remained was to fill them in. The bass was bumpin' again as I drove over to pick up Cassandra. She was waiting by the front counter, and paused only long enough to lock the door before hopping in the Miata.

We stopped to get the takeout, then to pickup a couple of cases of beer, and two bottles of a particularly fine Bordeaux that I knew Gwendolyn would like. The drive to her place took about a half hour in rush-hour traffic, but we got there shortly after five. Three vehicles were parked in a graveled area near the house: an old beater pickup Gwendolyn uses to haul things, her Lexus SUV and a bright red Corvette.

Saundra was wearing drawstring pants of loose-weave coarse white cotton that rode low on her hips, and a royal blue croptop tee that left her flat belly bare. Nice abs. Saundra wears thongs. The strings rode high on her hips. The pants were see-through. Nice pooper. No fuzz showing. Hhmmmm.

Don't get your hopes up James. Straight sex with a guy ain't her scene. Down Mr Snake, down boy!

Gwendolyn had been home long enough to change into a pair of khaki cargo shorts that sat low on her hips, and an off-the-shoulder peasant's blouse. She and Saundra were sitting in the garden talking over glasses of wine when we came up the gravel drive. Her dogs, Bruno, Lady and Fritz a trio of purebred German Shepherds, lay on the grass at their feet.

The dogs rose up on their haunches, ears high, when they heard the engine, but settled again at a word from their Mistress when Gwendolyn recognized my car. Gwendolyn doesn't worry about security, though her house is a bit remote. Those are big dogs, and very well trained.

We put the food in the oven to keep it warm, and iced the beer in a big cooler, then sat discussing the plan over a glass of wine in Gwendolyn's big front room. I was right about the Bordeaux.

Saundra's dark eyes narrowed as she watched the action on my laptop, but began dancing as she listened to the basic outline of the plans. She was immediately enthusiastic. It was obvious that she was already making her own plans. I could almost feel sorry for Marco. My homeboy was going to regret meeting Summer May before we were done with him.

The whites started to show in Cassandra's eyes as I spoke. I hadn't given her any of the details, just that she would be assisting in disciplining a few people. It was apparent to all that she was getting excited as she listened to the plans unfold.

Shortly before six Maxine's pickup roared up the driveway in a cloud of dust. Cora was beside her and Marti was in the rear seat. It's a good thing the truck is a big diesel duelie with a crew cab. It needed the power to pull the weight, and all three of those ladies sitting in one seat together would find it a very tight squeeze.

Time out.

I guess it's about time to fill you in on my "sister's" Cora and Marti. You know them as a couple of rather large ladies who happen to be lesbians, but that doesn't tell you much. Here's some of what I know:

Interlude: My Pal Cora

First, there's Cora: she and Maxine met in the service. Cora was a CE2 in Maxine's SeaBee Company until her enlistment was up about this time last year. Now she works as a journeyman electrician here in town.

We celebrated her birthday about a week ago. She's 23. She's also the smallest of the three at about 5'11" 260 on a stocky frame. At a distance, Cora actually looks smaller than she is because she's chunky, built a bit like a fire plug. She has both wide shoulders and a wide… 'beam', shall we say.

She does get a little narrower in between her tits and her ass, but the last time Cora wore pants with a 20" waist was when she was four. There ain't a lot of fat there though. She does have a bit of a pooch from too much beer, but there is also a lot of muscle beneath the padding.

Her tits are on the small side. I'd guess she's about a B cup. She keeps her dark brown hair cut short and away from her square face. She has soft brown eyes and amazingly long eyelashes. With her face and build, one might expect her to be a stone bull dyke, but Cora has a feminine side. She's only comfortable showing that side to a few people that she trusts. Cora trusts me.

I like her; she likes me. We are friends, good friends I think.

The trait I find most appealing in Cora is her loyalty. If she befriends you, you're a friend for life. She doesn't have a whole lot of male friends. Cora didn't know me from a doorknob. But when she heard about the Erin's scene in the parking lot with Larry, Moe and Stupid, Cora made a point of tracking me down to thank me personally for what I'd done. That's class. Erin told me later that it was Cora's idea to adopt me into the 'sisterhood'.

The night of the incident, I'd mentioned to my parents that there had been a dustup in the parking lot after class, but I hadn't gone into details. I just left it that I'd been a witness to an assault, the police were involved and that there was a faint chance that I might be called as a prosecution witness. I didn't want Mom to be upset, so I downplayed the whole thing.

Two evenings later, the doorbell rang. Dad was out back doing something. Mom and I had just finished the dishes. She said that she'd get it, so I went out to help Dad. Mom answered the door, and there was Cora.

About a half-hour later, Mom called me into the house. Her eyes were glistening a bit. She had a funny-strange kind of half smile on her face. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn that she was on the verge of tears, but she didn't look sad, she looked... I don't know, happy, or proud maybe. She reached up to kiss my cheek. I asked her what was up, but she just laid her hand my cheek for a moment, then told me that there was someone in the Living Room waiting to talk to me. Then she went out back to Dad.

Curious, I walked into the Living Room to find a rather large young woman perched on the couch sipping a cup of coffee. She looked like a Defensive Tackle with tits. She stood to shake my hand and introduce herself. Her voice was surprisingly normal for a woman. You'd think with that barrel chest it would be deeper.

I looked again, trying to be as objective as I could. Yep, definitely a Tackle. Too blocky to be a Linebacker. Big enough to play college ball anyway. Looked to be in shape too.

We'd never met, so I didn't fully appreciate the extent that she'd gone to, to dress for the occasion. The blazer, blouse and loose pleated slacks she wore fit perfectly and were feminine in cut. Her short hair was neatly styled. Cora wasn't wearing makeup, but there was no doubt that she was female. Just not your typical female.

We sat down again, and Cora got right to the point. She told me that Erin was a friend of hers, not close but still, a friend. She said that if there was anything she could ever do to help repay the debt, all I had to do was ask.

Of course, I waved it away, saying that anyone would have done exactly the same thing. I just happened to be the one to come along at the right time.

But she shook her head and told me something that I hadn't known. Apparently at least five other people had seen what was happening, and did nothing more than get in their cars and drive away. One, a girl, drove up long enough to yell at them to stop. But Stupid flashed his knife and told her to get lost and keep her fucking mouth shut, or they'd find her and do her next.

Then he turned on Erin as the girl raced away. He told her that they were each going to fuck her three ways, then keep her nipples for souvenirs. Since she was a fucking dyke, she had no need for them anyway.

The girl in the car must have believed Stupid's threat. Neither she, nor any of the others bothered to call 911 right away. It wasn't until almost an hour later that Emergency Services logged the first call. Anonymous, of course. Another followed ten minutes later. That was it. No other calls.

I was the only one who had jumped in right there while it was happening. I hadn't thought about it; I just did it. Going one on three with those goons was the right thing to do. Some would say stupid maybe, but if I hadn't been there, Erin would have been gang raped, probably mutilated and possibly murdered. Couldn't let that happen. No way.

It shook me that no other witness bothered to help until far too late. I guess the world is more dangerous than I had imagined. At least more indifferent.

Time out.

In the event you care to read a blow-by-blow account of this dust up, read Chapter I of this missive.

Time in.

Anyway, having said what she'd come to say, Cora rose to leave. She turned at the door to shake my hand again. She held it for a moment longer than necessary, looked my right in the eye, and told me to remember what she had said: if I ever needed help, to let her know.

As she walked down the front steps it occurred to me that she had been talking to Mom for some time. I asked Cora what she had said to her.

Cora turned and for the first time gave me that Cora grin that I've come to know and love. Then she said,

"Oh nothing much. I just told her that she had a helluva good guy for a son, and to make sure that you kept Saturday night open. That's the night we introduce new members to the local chapter."

I must have looked puzzled, because her grin got wider. Then she hit me with it.

"We're working out the details," she continued, "but don't worry. We'll fix it. Saturday night you come out of the closet. You'll be a full-fledged card-carrying lesbian, with the papers to prove it." Then she turned and walked away giggling.

It was a great party.

Mom and Dad were invited too. All being ex-Navy, Dad, Maxine and Cora hit it off right away. Those three give Marti a bad time, but she takes it in stride. She calls them "the squids" and they call her "the jarhead". Being an honorary one-star Marine, Mom's on Marti's side.

Game, set and match: Marti.

All three ladies address Dad as "Master Chief", which tickles him no end. He calls Maxine "Lieutenant", which makes her smile and stand a little straighter; or "Ma'am", which the other two think is a hoot.

Of course, Cora and Mom were buds from the first moment. But Mom being Mom made friends with half the women there. I say half, because they only stayed for a couple of hours. She didn't have time to meet them all.

Erin escorted her around. Like I said before, since the party, those two have become close. Erin's mother cut her off when she came out of the closet. Mom fills that gap. I think she fills the gap for many of the sisters. Particularly the younger ones. She's that way.

Mom never had a daughter. Now she's got a roomful. Makes her happy. Them too.

Interlude: My Pal Marti

Which brings us to my homey Marti: She's 6'2" about 270. She wears her short thick black hair, about collar length with a part on the left. She has dark green eyes with tiny gold flecks, under heavy black eyebrows. The timbre of her voice is in the lower octave range.

Marti's 28 going on 12. Where Cora is the serious one, Marti is spontaneous and loves practical jokes, particularly those played on someone else. When those gold flecks are twinkling, you know something is about to happen to someone. Marti green eyes are usually dancing.

She first met Maxine on a road trip with the local chapter of the Dykes on Bykes. Marti owns a '64 Pan Head that she has restored to the original condition. It's her baby. She only rides it on special occasions. For everyday use, she tools around on her Lowrider, or in her classic '68 Shelby Mustang convertible.

Marti is the least chubby one in the posse. Not that I'd say that she's a lightweight. At 280 she's about 10 pounds over her fighting weight, but an active duty Marine tends to keep his or her self in top shape. Like her buds Maxine and Cora, Marti has a lot of muscle too. Her upper arms are almost as big as her partner Tiffany's thighs. Marti's body carries those extra pounds as padding for the most part. Except her belly, where she's developed a little tiny pooch since she left the service. Some of that extra padding has also concentrated in her tits. She is at least a 42D.

Back when she was in shape, Marti was a Staff Sergeant in the Marine Corps. She had meant to make a career of it. She was jet engine mechanic. A good one, and a good Marine. But she got caught up in the 'Don't Ask; Don't Tell' nonsense. In her case, it was mostly her own fault though. She got caught doing an officer's wife.

Oops.

Worse for her career, the he was a Second Lieutenant not a year of the Academy, and they were caught by him in his bed.

Big Oops.

The 2nd LT was not happy finding his sweet little wife in his bed naked with someone else.

As an officer, he was understandably upset that she was doing the horizontal bop with one of the troops.

As a man, he was particularly pissed that the troop boinking his wife was another female using a strap-on.

All of that was bad enough to come home to find. But what completely enraged him was that the dildo obviously giving his wife so much pleasure – very apparently more pleasure than he had ever given her: she was wailin' like a banshee – was twice as big as his own dick.

Oowwee! That really slammed his male ego bone.

He was supposed to be out in the field for a couple of weeks on maneuvers, but he broke his arm diving into a hole a bit too aggressively when the mortar shells started popping. He was airlifted back to the base hospital, then decided to surprise his wife with a little 'afternoon delight'.

He surprised her alright.

Mrs 2nd LT was 22, a gorgeous little blond with big blue eyes and pointy tits the size of softballs on a 5'2" frame. She had been a cheerleader, and the Homecoming queen at a small private college her daddy helped finance. Of course she was also a member of the most popular and exclusive sorority on campus. Not surprisingly, it also had been her mother's sorority . Having gotten everything she ever wanted all her life, she was more than a bit spoiled too.

As Miss Sorority Queen, the future Mrs 2nd LT had found making grades in college was a bit of a drag. She did manage to eke out a degree in Art Appreciation. To her credit, she didn't use her political connections to graduate.

She was a bit more direct: she fucked half the faculty and staff. The important half.

Included in her conquests were the President of the college and the Dean of Women. The President is a fine Southern gentleman, as old as and a close friend of her daddy. He had watched her grown from a baby. He had also carried a secret lech for her since she was twelve.

To watch the object of his long affection strip to her waist and fall to her knees between his thighs, wrap her cupid lips around his straining penis and suck the cum from his testicles with her bountiful breasts quivering in his hands was the stuff of his most erotic dreams. He was able to live that dream many times over the four years of her college education. He so enjoyed fondling her firm young breasts as he felt her lips and tongue pulling at his straining erection.

The only thing that was a tiny bit bothersome to him was that Miss Sorority Queen definitely did not swallow. She was a spitter. But that was a small price to pay for the exquisite joy she provided. Besides, it proved that she was a Lady.

The Dean was and is a rather prim and proper Southern Lady who has a secret lech of her own: young, white girls, each more beautiful than the last. Especially sweet young beautiful blond girls with pointy breasts and tasty pussies.

Miss Sorority Queen found that experience particularly enjoyable. While stretched across the Dean's desk with her frilly thong dangling from one ankle and her naked asscheeks clutched firmly in the Deans hands, she made an earth-shaking discovery: a woman knew quite well which buttons to push, and how to push them with her lips, fingers and tongue.

She liked the sensation so much that she made a habit of visiting the Dean's office. Frequently. Over the four years of her undergraduate education Miss Sorority Queen was often a welcome guest in the Dean's home. Her bed too.

Nice bed. King. Very comfortable. Lots of down pillows to lie back upon.

But Miss Sorority Queen was also smart enough to know that daddy would not approve. At all.

Certainly there was no future in it. She would never make it to the social or political heights to which she aspired on the arm of another woman. She fully intended to be either Mrs General Officer like her intended mother-in-law (whomever she might be), or Mrs Senior Senator like her mother. Preferably both.

Besides, though she did love the sensation of a tongue caressing her clit, she also loved the sensation of a man's long, thick cock churning in her juicy little pussy. And the longer and thicker, the better. She had discovered the joys of a big cock while riding cowgirl atop the loins of a studley young black man who helped keep the grounds at the school.

One day she met the future 2nd LT at a sorority function, and decided that he was perfect for her long range plans: he was rich. He was handsome. Best of all, he was the eldest son of an established Southern family, with deep roots in the ante bellum South and the US Military. For five generations, back to the Civil War, his antecedents had been General Officers, the last four, Marines. He had connections equal to hers. With those connections, she was certain that she – well they – would make it to the top in record time.

The only drawback she could discover, was that his dick was about half the size of her black lover's. She discovered that giving him a hand job on their third date. She waited that long, because she was in the 'hard-to-get' mode.

But things got harder after the wedding. The daily life of a Mrs 2nd LT as not at all what she'd pictured it to be. Certainly not the social sense. Nor was it the kind of life to which she was accustomed as Miss Sorority Queen. She was actually expected to do things, instead of having things done for her.

Worse, in stead of being the center of attention, she was now a wife, the appendage of a man. He had star billing in the setup. The entire arrangement very much rankled. It is quite a gap between being the wife of a brand spanking new Second Lieutenant and the wife of a brand spanking new Lieutenant General, like her mother-in-law.
The gap in the bedroom was even broader. The 2nd LT either A) couldn't find the buttons, B) didn't know that they existed, or C) truly didn't give a shit.

Mrs 2nd LT strongly suspected the latter to be the case. He was a good looking young man, from a wealthy and well-connected family, and he too was accustomed to getting his way. He was also quite accustomed to beautiful young ladies giving of themselves without asking for anything in return.

Many people dislike most those traits they find in other people which are predominant in themselves. Being spoiled and selfish herself, of course Mrs 2nd LT did not recognize that she and her new husband shared those same attributes. It didn't occur to her to change herself. Not that she tried that hard, but she couldn't change him. It wasn't long before she was looking elsewhere for phat wood and French.

One Summer morning not long after their arrival, Mrs 2nd LT went to the Exchange looking for anything she could use to give herself some relief. But much to her immense frustration there's no SKU in the Nexcom inventory for 'Dildo, Large, 9", Vibrating, Black' or even 'White'.

Somewhat pissed and preoccupied, she turned around abruptly, and ran right into the arms of something – actually someone – one helluvalot better.

Marti was there shopping. She spied and began to follow the gorgeous young lady with the big tits. She had no idea that the cute little ass she was eyeing was attached to the wife of an officer. But she, like the Dean, had a tremendous lech for sexy little blondes too. This particular little blond was wearing a somewhat risquΓ© outfit with white twill cargo shorts that fit her little butt perfectly and a camisole top with flowered trim that left her tanned midriff bare.

Best of all, there were no visible pantylines embossing those shorts, so either the woman didn't wear panties, or she preferred V-strings or thongs. Marti was so intent in watching those cute buttcheeks undulate, she was caught by surprise when the blonde turned and collided with her. Marti put her hands out automatically, and they came to rest on the little blondes shoulders, steadying her.

Mrs 2nd LT suddenly found herself enfolded in the arms of someone, face-to-face with a broad chest. Actually, face-to-tits, as her cheeks came to rest nestled between two rather large breasts covered with desert camouflage. Startled, she looked up to meet Marti's dark green eyes. She instantly recognized the appetite gleaming there. It matched her own.

Marti was lookin' sweet in her cammy's. She was pretty buff, weighing about ten pounds less back then. At 6'2" and 270, she was in great shape. Her shoulders were broad, her waist washboard trim, if not at all slender, and her hips wide enough to match her upper body.

Her tits I've described, but she says that at that time, her rack was a little smaller, but stood out more from her chest. She has wide-set melon-shaped breasts capped with areolae about two inches across, and bite-sized nipples. Three years later and maybe a few ounces heavier apiece, her tits sag a tiny bit more, but gravity is what it is, and we all get older.

The sessions in the Dean's office came back to Mrs 2nd LT in that instant. Her pussy tingled at the memory of a woman's agile tongue teasing her clit.

It was definitely lust at first sight. Here was the solution to Mrs 2nd LT's need: a rather large, buff and somehow attractive woman, obviously a lesbian and probably butch. This woman would surely know where her buttons were. Better yet, she looked like she had the stamina to spend all night pushing them. Mrs 2nd LT was willing to bet her husband's dick that the BAM facing her had a strap-on dildo of the requisite size secreted somewhere, and that she knew how to use it too.

Time out.

BAM – Broad-Assed Marine. Be careful with this one. Most female Marines do not care for the appellation. Dad tells the story of one relatively tiny female Marine who hopped off her barstool and cold-cocked a 6'2" sailor who used the term in her presence.

Time in.

The advantages were so apparent, she was shocked that she had not thought of it before: No worries about getting pregnant; no male ego to get in the way. Logistics would be difficult, but not near the problem of hiding a male lover. And best of all, there was no danger of the word getting out. The female Marine had as much – or more – to lose as she if it did.

They immediately adjourned to the outdoor grill adjacent to the Exchange where they introduced themselves. Mrs 2nd LT was correct on all counts. There they sat over sodas and discussed possibilities for an hour or so. Before they parted company, they had made a date for the following Saturday morning. The 2nd LT would be out playing golf and shagging balls for his CO. The Colonel had a nasty slice.

Time out

The 2nd LT eventually got smart: he started carrying a stock of balls of the Colonel's brand in his bag. Thereafter, he almost always managed to find the Colonel's errant shot. Strangely enough the ball was also nearly always in a playable lie. Not surprisingly, the 2nd LT became the Colonel's favorite playing partner. They played golf together frequently. He found room for the 2nd LT on his staff. That pretty much guaranteed the 2nd LT an early promotion.

Time in.

Marti is no dummy. That the juicy little blond with the high, tight ass and phat tits was an officer's wife made her hesitant, certainly wary. But when she felt the little sandal-clad foot surreptitiously stroking her calf, all doubts went south. Marti's Gunny Puss, like Maxine's Ms Puss, also has a lot in common with Mr Snake.

That Saturday morning in the 2nd LT's bed, the two women found a little slice of heaven. Marti did indeed possess a strap-on, and the dildo, though pink, was 10" long. She had other fun toys too. They made good use of the double-ended number she brought along, just for fun.

But what really got the lady juicy was when Marti turned Mrs 2nd LT over her knee and playfully smacked that cute little bare ass a few times. Mrs 2nd LT had a hellacious orgasm right there, surprising the bejezuz our of both of them. She liked it so much, it became a regular part of their play.

Life was suddenly very good for Mrs 2nd LT. True, She had a few more social obligations than she preferred, and as junior wife, she had to take the Mrs Bird Colonel watch more often than the other wives.

Time out.

Mrs Bird Colonel tippled. She drank cooking sherry if she couldn't get anything else. One of the junior officer's wives was always detailed to get her home safely from any function. Being the most junior, the duty usually fell to our Mrs 2nd LT.

Time in.

All in all though, things were definitely sweet. She was finally getting phat sex, though not as much as she would have liked. After all, she still had to satisfy the 2nd LT, which was increasingly more of a drag. Her FM stud had to work and pull duty much too often to suit her. Also the two of them had to be at least a little bit circumspect.

After all, familiarity breeds contempt, as the Officer's Manual firmly states. The divide between the commissioned corps and enlisted ranks is vast, and is not to be bridged either lightly or light heartedly.

But Mrs 2nd LT was very clever when it came to satisfying her own needs. She volunteered to chair an events committee which would organize various parties and outings for the enlisted ranks and their families. The Commanding General, and therefore, more importantly for her, Mrs Commanding General was very pleased with the idea.

That pleased the Bird Colonel and Mrs Bird Colonel, and Lt. Colonel and Mrs Lt. Colonel, and Major and Mrs Major, and Captain and Mrs Captain, and 1st LT and Mrs 1st LT, and it certainly pleased 2nd LT. His wife's proposal made him and Mrs 2nd LT look good to all of the above.

The only ones upset were all the other Mrs 2nd LT's of that company. They were jealous that they had not thought of the idea first. So they did the next best thing: they volunteered to become committee members.

As chairwoman, Mrs 2nd LT was in the position to delegate. She delegated the hell out of all the real work. The other Mrs 2nd LT's were happy to take the assignments. After all, their names would head the list as the committee member in charge of the Easter Egg Hunt, or the Monthly Birthday Party, or whatever. Then each would get her own little piece of the glory, which made their husbands look good too.

Mrs 2nd LT made certain that Marti was a member of her little committee, as the official Enlisted Liaison for the Single Females. Her one job was to post the notice of upcoming events in the enlisted barracks once a month.

Mrs 2nd LT's only jobs were to hand out the assignments, bang the gavel and look good. She'd always been extremely talented at the latter. Meanwhile, she and Marti had a legitimate reason for meeting. Often.

Marti tanned Mrs 2nd LT's sweet ass at least twice a week. Mrs 2nd LT even learned to lick a little pussy herself after she convinced Marti to trim Gunny Puss. Like me, Mrs 2nd LT was not one for pubic hair stuck in her teeth.

The 2nd LT hadn't had a lewinsky since before the wedding, because he refused to even discuss trimming his bushy thatch. The other guys might think him something of a pipesmoker if they caught sight of it in the shower.

Though he was sorely tempted to get that haircut when Mrs 2nd LT offered that a trim would make his dick look bigger. But it just didn't fit the manly image he had of himself. Mrs 2nd LT shrugged and flounced back into Marti's strong arms.

This went on for nearly a year. There were changes of course: the 2nd LT was slated to become 1st LT ahead of the other 2nd LT's, and Marti was promoted too. A few weeks after her promotion, shortly before the 2nd LT's came through, she and the soon to be anointed Mrs 1st LT celebrated their new status together with a four week vacation in Key West.

The 2nd LT had an eight week course to attend before the promotion, so the ladies took advantage of his absence. Marti took leave and Mrs 2nd LT went home to see mama for a couple of weeks. She spent the time visiting with her mother's friends. Most of the time she was thinking about the trip to come. With each passing day, she got more horny.

Ostensibly her plan was to visit various friends and former sorority sisters on the return trip. Instead she drove straight from mama's house to Hartsfield-Jackson and hopped a plane to the beach. Marti met her at the security gate. They promptly shucked their inhibitions along with their clothes, and spent nearly a month partying together.

Marti had done some digging and called in some favors. Through a friend of a friend of a friend, she found a five room beach-front condominium with a fenced deck, hot tub and daily maid service. The condo also included access privileges at the resort hotel next door. The place cost her a serious chunk of the reenlistment bonus she'd banked, but it was worth it. Of course, Mrs 2nd LT had money of her own too. They split the cost 50/50. Even so, it was expensive but definitely worth the cost.

At 23, Mrs 2nd LT looked very tasty in the bright pink bikini Marti chose for her. It was one of those fishnet micro bikinis, and Mrs 2nd LT definitely had the body for it. She spent the entire afternoon of that first day modeling various suits for Marti in a small boutique on Duval street. The two owners, a couple of young ladies who shared a similar relationship to that of our heroines, quite enjoyed assisting Mrs 2nd LT.

She quite enjoyed the attention as she pranced in and out of the dressing room. More often than not, she was sans anything but the little panties required when trying on such intimate women's wear.

She had to wear those panties, and not just because of the health regulations. That she could be seen by not only other customers, but passersby on the street only made her little pussy more juicy. She could have used a sponge before she was through.

With the ladies help, Marti too managed to find herself a suit. A black maillot cut high on her broad hips and low in the back that appeared conservative at first glance. A closer look revealed that the suit had a V-shaped nylon panel that ran from her broad shoulders to her mons. The sheer panel revealed the inside curves of her heavy breasts and her flat belly. The suit displayed her buff body to its best advantage.

The two were quite striking together on the beach where they were baking themselves to a golden brown. More than one woman stopped by their lounge chairs to chat. But the two were more interested in partying together than in joining a group.

A lot of guys enjoyed the view Mrs 2nd LT presented too. She enjoyed teasing them. More than one thought about getting her alone and peeling that tiny bikini off of her incredible little body, but none approached. One look at Marti, and they all decided that the local ER, though convenient and staffed with highly trained medical personnel, was a terrible place to spend one's vacation.

Mrs 2nd LT looked very tasty out of the new bikini too, which is how she spent much of her time. She enjoyed the airy feeling or her new look. It made her feel quite naughty.

You see, the micro bikini finally chosen was so tiny that even the little patch of pubic hair decorating her mons curled over the top of the bikini. The high-cut legs of Marti's maillot also displayed too much of her fuzz. So their next stop after the boutique was the salon next door where both women had 'honeymoon' bikini waxes.

Mrs 2nd LT wouldn't get her pussy plucked bald unless Marti did too. The procedure made Mrs 2nd LT wet. Marti hated it, lying on her back naked below the waist with her knees pulled up to her chest while a strange woman spread goo on her pussy, then ripped the hair out.

She cursed like only a salty sailor or Marine knows how, but beneath her breath. Almost worse was crouching on the table with her ass in the air while the technician spread that goo between her asscheeks and ripped the hair from her crack.

But after the ordeal was over, she was amazed how good it looked and felt. And when bedtime came around, Marti was convinced. Mrs 2nd LT was much more enthused about doing her part when they rolled into the 69 position that night. She launched Marti like the Space Shuttle.

They both liked it so much, they went back during the third week and had a touchup. Marti still hated it, but liked the result more than she disliked the process.

The two of them found everything they needed within walking distance of the condo: the beach, the pool, the bar, the shops, the bed. They ate out most of the time. A car was superfluous. Marti had ridden her Lowrider down Highway 1 through the Keys, but they walked virtually everywhere.

They did take one run up to Marathon Key one day for kicks. It took some doing, but Marti finally talked her into taking a ride. It was the black leather pants that did it. Marti bought her a pair at the local motorcycle shop. She felt positively wicked in the tight leather pants, short leather jacket, boots and helmet.

Time out.

Leathers in Florida? You bet! Marti is of the group who says that the question is not 'if' you dump a bike, it's 'when' you dump a bike. Road rash at 60 mph is severe. Without leathers, it's fifty yards of body wide strawberry jam.

Time in.

Mrs 2nd LT was not really the Bike Babe type. That is, she was not before the trip, but she hadn't been on the Lowrider for ten minutes before her pussy was wet.

Some of the reason Mrs 2nd LT was wet had to do with the fact that Marti only let her wear her underwear beneath the leathers: a pair of black butterfly V-string panties and a demi-bra of sheer black lace.

Their suits, slaps, shorts and tops went into the saddlebags. She was so nervous that Marti had to put on the radio headset for her. Mrs 2nd LT was petrified. She straddled the bike and wrapped her arms tightly around Marti's waist, knowing that she was about to die, despite the encouragement Marti whispered in her ear over the link.

What would her mother think? She almost cried when the bike slid into gear and they roared off.

To her immense surprise, nothing bad happened. In fact, it was rather exhilarating. Soon she relaxed her deathgrip, but still held tight to Marti. Then she noticed something else. The ease with which Marti handled that heavy motorcycle sent chills down her spine, and the big engine rumbling between her thighs seemed wired directly to her clit.

By the time they were halfway to Marathon, all that Mrs 2nd LT could think about was getting fucked by Marti. The ride still scared her, but it was a thrilling fright. After a day of walking the shops, lying on the beach and lunch at a little cafΓ©, they headed back. Mrs 2nd LT strapped on her helmet, wrapped her arms around Marti's waist, and in her most sultry Southern belle voice, drawled,

"Take me for a ride you big stud."

There was joy and shouting back at the condo that night.

Another strange thing happened on that trip. Mrs 2nd LT, the former Miss Sorority Queen, faded a bit. Less the Selfish Bitch, she became more of the Biker Babe. Sweeter somehow. More giving and less demanding. Except in bed. Then she wanted all of Marti's attention.

Marti noticed, but didn't say anything. When it's good, leave it alone. And it was real good. While it lasted.

But, like all good things, it finally came to an end. Marti's thirty day leave was down to the last few days, and she had solid two-day ride ahead of her. They spent most of their last day together in bed, just enjoying touch and tenderness. The next morning Marti followed the cab to the airport and put Biker Babe back on the plane. Then she cruised the long road back alone. With each passing mile, she missed Biker Babe more.

Unbeknownst to Marti, by the time the plane landed in Atlanta, Biker Babe was history. Mrs 2nd LT was back in control. It had been a dream vacation, but that's all it was: a dream. Her long range plans were too important. Biker Babe went into the closet in a box on the back shelf along with the leathers. It was time to get back to the real world.

But life has a way of making you pay for the good times. Fate checked her watch, blew her whistle and said "Times up! Everybody, outta the pool!".

The freshly promoted 1st LT arrived home within a couple of days after his wife. He'd missed her terribly, especially her pussy. He loved his wife's rich tan and particularly her new bald look. The first night back was great for him: he got his rocks off twice, a record.

The experience left Mrs 1st LT aching for something more though. Her husband may have gotten his and more, but she was definitely left hanging. She tried to shrug it off, but it was more difficult than ever. Especially when the memories of those fabulous nights in the condo's big bed came to mind.

But the newly minted Mrs 1st LT took firm control, knowing that the next tryst with her stud was only a few days away. 1st LT was scheduled to go on maneuvers for two weeks. He was to put into practice some of that war shit he'd spent the previous two months learning.

The rest is history. Mrs 1st LT met Marti at the door in her robe that fateful day. Beneath the robe, she wore a pair of panties. Little panties.

She barely got the door closed before she was tearing at Marti's cammys, almost desperate to get her naked and into the bedroom. Shortly thereafter she was on her face moaning with her little bare butt wriggling in the air while Marti's dildo slammed into her juicy puss. Two minutes later, in walked the 1st LT with his arm in a cast.

Mrs 1st LT was in the middle of a gorgeous orgasm when she saw his face. She blinked once. Her passionate wail turned into a screech of terror. She shot off the end of Marti's strap-on and raced for the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Marti knelt there gaping. She hadn't seen the 1st LT enter. She was stunned by Mrs 1st LT's abrupt departure. While Marti's back was turned, the 1st LT got one good lick in with that plastic cast.

That was a mistake on many levels:

First, it's a court martial offense for an officer to strike an enlisted person.

Second, Marti is half-again the size of the 1st LT; she could have taken him out permanently with one punch.

Third, the cast slipped when it hit Marti's head and the bones separated again.

Oucheee!

The 1st LT went to the floor, holding his arm screeching, with tears of pain and rage rolling down his cheeks, so it wasn't necessary for Marti to defend herself. Instead It gave her time to get dressed, while he laid there clutching his arm, alternately whimpering in pain and cursing at her.

Mrs 1st LT refused to come out of the bathroom. Marti took him back to the hospital to get his cast reset and the knot on her head checked. She drove his car. The ride was not a pleasant one for either.

A fourth generation Marine, the 1st LT's daddy was at the time a 3-star General, frocked with his fourth star. Mrs 1st LT's daddy is currently a five-term Senator, a member of the Senate Committee on Armed Services. That's a lot of heavy-weight brass to be lined up against, even for someone Marti's size.

Nobody wanted a scandal. So they bought Marti off. Both gentlemen made room in their busy schedules for a hasty trip to the base. There they had a short meeting with the Base Commander, a 2-star and a close friend of the 3-star. There they arranged a medical discharge with 100% disability for Marti. The disabled designation meant that Marti would collect a paycheck from the VA for the rest of her life.

The 1st LT and Mrs 1st LT were kept out of it completely. He was given emergency leave to accompany his wife on a trip to visit her ailing mother.

Marti wasn't happy about it, but both the Senior Senator and the 3-star General made it very clear. it was either the medical discharge and the disability, or time in the brig and a DD. No matter which option she chose, from that moment she was gone from the Corps.

Marti took the medical discharge and the disability, but it hurt. She loved being a Marine. She had also come to love the spoiled little blond too, and it hurt when it ended. A lot. The last Marti had seen of Mrs 1st LT was her little bare ass pumping as she raced for the bathroom the day of the Big Oops. The twinkle was suddenly gone from Marti's dark green eyes.

Within two days, Marti was out of the service and gone. No one gave her a send-off or even said goodbye. Questions and/or comments were neither solicited nor encouraged. The word in her unit was that she had been given orders for a special duty assignment, and it's none of your fucking business anyway, get your sorry ass back to work on that engine.

Her Colonel handled the paperwork personally, guaranteeing herself her star. It never hurts to have a five-term Senator and a three-star, soon to be four-star General owe you one, particularly when you are a female service member.

The 1st LT and Mrs 1st LT left the scene of the crime post haste too. He received orders for Embassy duty in London. It was thought that the change in atmosphere would do both of them some good. London was chosen specifically to appeal to Mrs 1st LT.

Marti just got on her bike and rode away. The Marine Corps had been her home. What family she had, she wasn't close to, nor interested in and vice versa. They did not at all approve of her lifestyle. Instead of going back there, she traveled across the country, and eventually fell in with a group of lady bikers on a road trip. There she met Maxine, and ended up coming back here with her.

With her experience as a jet engine mechanic, it didn't take Marti long to find a job. She also found a place to live near the beach. Maxine introduced her to the gang. Soon she was settled into a new life. The suddenness of it jarred her at times, but there wasn't much she could do except remember, and that hurt too much. If she cried, it was at night alone where no one could see.

Marti somehow never hooked up with another girl. She had lovers. Many. Numerous females of various shapes and sizes shared her bed. But no one special. There was a hole that no one seemed to be able to fill.

For kicks, she joined the local chapter of the Dykes on Bykes at Maxine's invitation. They spent a lot of weekends cruising the back roads, and making runs down the coast.

She found an old Panhead, took it down to the frame and built it back again with Cora's help. They became good pals along the way. With Maxine along, those three could always find a party.

They were the party.

Time passed. Early one Spring morning she and the ladies of the club were gathered at a local diner, preparing to take a road trip. Marti was sitting on her Lowrider, tinkering with the engine.

She felt the bike shift as someone straddled the seat behind her. Slender arms slipped around her waist taking a deathgrip. A helmeted head lay against her shoulder. Static buzzed in her ear as someone clicked onto her radio frequency. Over the rumble of the Harleys engine she heard an achingly familiar sultry Southern drawl on the link,

"Take me for a ride you big stud."

Her heart was racing, but without a second's hesitation, Marti gunned the engine, kicked it in gear and led the group out on the road. Explanations could wait. That those slender arms were wrapped tightly around her waist suddenly made the world right again. The hole was filled. Biker Babe was back. It was enough for the moment.

Marti and Tiffany have been inseparable since.

Time in.

We ate first, sitting around Gwendolyn's Dining Room table. Maxine had given Cora and Marti the basics on the trip out, but Gwendolyn and I sketched out the complete plan as we scarfed. Cassandra volunteered to clean up while the rest of us adjourned to the front room to go over the details. Cora wanted to see the downloads, so she and Marti huddled over the laptop cursing at the screen occasionally.

Meanwhile the rest of us brain-stormed, trying to poke holes in the plans. Cassandra joined us after finishing in the kitchen. She sat on the floor between my legs. She listened quietly for a while. Then she pointed out a couple of things, and offered a couple of suggestions. That set off more discussion, with suggestions, comments and criticisms from everyone. Even Cora and Marti had a few comments when they finished watching the downloads.

Our confidence grew as we talked it over. Everyone recognized that some of what we were planning was illegal, but that danger only added a touch of spice to the operation. (Not that it needed any additional flavoring.)

Finally everything was covered. The timetables were set, and everyone knew their roles. The ladies had all arranged to take a couple of days off, so they were free for the next six days. Marti, Cora and Maxine all had commitments starting Monday, but by then their parts would be complete. They did plan to drop by occasionally after work to party.

I had the graduation ceremony scheduled for Sunday. But Gwendolyn and Saundra planned to spend the day with the villains in the dungeon. They didn't need me for most of that scene, though I did plan to stop by later that afternoon.

Before everyone packed up to leave Maxine, Cora and Marti were given the tour. Marti burst out laughing when she first viewed the layout. But the more she looked around, the quieter and more thoughtful she became.

Cora flushed immediately. Her eyes got very big as she examined the shadowed room. This was a whole new world to her. She looked as though she was intent if not eager to explore it. Gwendolyn might soon have another client.

Maxine took it all in stride, but even her eyes widened a bit when she looked over the large selection of strap-ons.

All three viewed Gwendolyn and Saundra with new respect. The dungeon affected both Cora and Marti in particular. And when they saw that the two Mistresses treated me as an equal in that setting, some of that new respect spilled over to me. Since my rescue of Erin, they had treated me as a friend, but not completely equal.

Let's face it: I am younger by a few years, and more importantly to that group, I am a guy.

I am also certain that it was an unconscious thing, but real none-the-less. Standing with them in the dungeon I could see a subtle shift in their attitude.

They noticed a not-so-subtle change in Cassandra when she went down the stairs. They could see in her eyes memories of time spent in chains there, under the whip.

Gwendolyn and I have shared Cassandra together once. Even the memory of it makes Cassandra wet. Standing in the center of the dungeon again, she trembled slightly. I knew that she quivered with both terror and excitement.

Cassandra was pumping adrenaline again. It took a lot of her self control not to go to her knees right there. As it was, she fell naturally into the roll of a submissive. It was hard for her not to call me Master. She caught herself a couple of times. She knows that I disapprove of that title unless we're in a scene together. But Gwendolyn and Saundra immediately became "Mistress". Maxine, Cora and Marti all noticed.

Cora became pensive. Marti's eyebrows rose, then she too became thoughtful. Maxine just smiled and lightly punched my arm again.

Oooowwwch! I knew that'd be black and blue for a week.

My sixth sense told me that Cora would become more intimate with the accoutrements of the dungeon in the near future. She spent a lot of time examining the stocks, and her eyes grew haunted when she first saw the cross.

Marti too was wavering, though she looked like she couldn't decide which end of the whip she would enjoy more.

Maxine just looked eager, like she couldn't wait for the action to start.

The villains were in very deep shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Index of Terms


1st LT – acronym for First Lieutenant.

2nd LT – acronym for Second Lieutenant.

B&D – Bondage and Discipline; a B&D relationship includes at least one person as a 'top' who enjoys dominating and/or securing (with ropes, chains, leather straps, saran wrap, etc.) and/or using various implements of discipline (whips, canes, belts, paddles, crops etc). The person or persons who enjoy being submissive, secured and disciplined are known as 'bottoms'.

Bird Colonel – full Colonel (06) in the USMC, USA and USAF, as opposed to a Lieutenant Colonel (O5); the rank insignia is an eagle (a bird).

bisexual – a person who enjoys sexual relations with members of either gender.

boink(ing) – to fuck; to have sexual intercourse with; fucking.

bottom – (1) buttocks; (2) the passive or submissive partner in a B&D or S&M relationship.

brig – a Navy jail; the holding facility aboard a US Navy base or ship used to process and confine those military personnel under arrest.

bud(s) – buddy(ies); friend(s); pal(s)

bustier – a corset-like, tight-fitting, often strapless top worn as a brassiere or outer garment.

butch – a lesbian displaying aggressively male characteristics; see bull dyke; a butch may play the part without necessarily looking the part: she may be the girl next door.

camel toe – describes the appearance made by a woman's vulva embossing the crotch of her pants, shorts, panties or the like. The fabric of the garment must be tight, soft and supple to achieve the effect. Soft leather works well.

cammys – Camouflage uniform as issued by the various US military branches. Once a jungle green, the standard now is a desert tan pattern.

Captain – Commisioned Officer rank (O3) in the USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to a Lieutenant (USN).

CE2 – US Naval enlisted rank: Construction Electrician Second Class Petty Officer (E5), USN.

coΔ΅ones – testicles.

cold cocked – knocked unconscious with a single punch.

Colonel – Commisioned Officer rank (O6) in the USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to a Captain (USN).

Commanding General – a General Officer in command of a military unit; as opposed to a General assigned to an administrative position, for example.

Corps – the United States Marine Corps.

court martial - a court consisting of commissioned officers and in some instances enlisted personnel for the trial of members of the armed forces or others within its jurisdiction.

cowgirl – a sexual position with the woman kneeling upright over her partner as though riding a horse.

DD – Dishonorable Discharge.

Defensive Tackle – a position/player of the defensive squad on an American football team.

do / did (her / him) – Have sexual intercourse with; fuck.

'Don't ask; Don't tell' – a policy introduced by the Clinton Administration that directed the Armed Services to cease asking whether or not members of the military were homosexual; military personnel were directed to keep their sexual preferences to themselves; if it became known officially that a member of the military was gay, that person was (and still is) dismissed from the service.

Dykes on Bikes – an organization of women who enjoy riding motorcycles, a number of whose members are lesbians; the original chapter was organized in San Fransisco in 1976.

ER – Emergency Room.

Exchange – a retail store located on a military facility which catersolely to Active Duty Military Personnel; the prices tend to be lower than those in civilian retail stores as the stores are run as non-profit organizations.

First Lieutenant – Officer rank (O2) USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to Lieutenant Junior Grade (USN).

FM – Female Marine.

French – oral sex, either cunnilingus or felatio.

Hartsfield-Jackson – Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.

honeymoon wax – to remove pubic hair by covering the groin with a sticky substance then pulling the substance away, thereby plucking the hairs and leaving the groin area completely hairless; the act or result thereof.

hook – a golf shot that curves significantly in the direction opposite the dominant hand of the player, e.g. toward the left for a right handed player; usually unintentional; see 'slice'.

horizontal bop – sexual intercourse; see 'mattress-dance'.

hot – extremely sexually attractive.

jarhead - pejorative term for a member of the USMC; often used by members of the Navy, as the Marine Corps is a branch of the Department of the Navy; describes the shape of the subjects head from the rear, as Marine's haircut is 'high and tight' leaving his ears sticking out like the handles of a clay jar.

lewinsky – Felatio; the origin is obvious.

Lieutenant – USN commissioned officer rank (O3); equal in rank to a Captain USMC, USA or USAF; rank badge is a gold oak leaf plus two Β½" gold stripes or bands.

Lowrider – a model of a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Lt Colonel – Lieutenant Colonel; Commisioned Officer rank (O5) in the USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to a Commander (USN).

maillot – a women's one-piece bathing suit.

Major – Commisioned Officer rank (O4) in the USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to a Lieutenant Commander (USN).

maneuvers – a military training exercise, often live-fire.

Master Chief – Master Chief Petty Officer; USN Enlisted rank (E9); the highest enlisted rank in the Navy (also Fleet MCPO or Command MCPO); equivalent to Master Gunnery Sargeant or Sergeant Major (USMC), Sergeant Major or Command Sergeant Major (USA), Chief Master Sergeant or First Sergeant or Command Chief Master Sergeant (USAF); Admirals speak respectfully to Master Chiefs.

mons – Mons Veneris or Mons Pubis; New Latin in origin; literally, 'eminence of Venus'; a rounded eminence of fatty tissue upon the pubic symphysis especially of the human female.

NEXCOM – Navy Exchange Service Command. Retail stores operated by the USN aboard Navy and Marine Corps bases worldwide.

one-star – a Brigadier General (USMC, USA, USAF) or Rear Admiral, Lower Half (USN); the badge of rank is a single star on either shoulder (all services) or coat sleeve (USN).

package – the crotch area of a man's pants or slacks and how his genitals appear to fit within the area.

Pan Head – a model of Harley Davidson motorcycle so named for the shape of the valve cover was similar to a cooking pan.

phat – Fabulous; great; fantastic.

phat wood – a large cock, 8" or more in length with at least a 2" breadth, attached to a man who has the strength, skill and staying power to satisfy a woman.

pipesmoker – a gay man; a homosexual.

posse – a group or gang of friends that hang out together.

Que sera, sera – Spanish: 'What will be, will be'; a song made popular by Doris Day in 1956.

rocks off (got his) – achieved orgasm.

S&M – Sadism & Masochism; an S&M relationship includes at least one person as a 'top' who enjoys inflicting pain – the Sadist – and one person as a 'bottom' – the Mashochist – who enjoys receiving pain.

St Andrews Cross – an 'X' made of heavy timbers to which a person is secured by cuffs, chains and/or ropes for the purpose of torture.

scarfed – ate informally.

SeaBee – Construction Battalian; a branch of the USN detailed with construction of facilities in forward operating areas; most civilian trades are represented in the SeaBees; e.g electricians, carpenters, steelworkers, welders, heavy equipment operators, millwrights, etc.

Second Lieutenant – Officer rank (O1) USMC, USA and USAF; equivalent to Ensign (USN); the lowest ranking Commissioned Officer in the Armed Services.

sister – Lesbian; a member of a club for lesbians in this tale.

SKU – Stock Keeping Unit; the assigned unit of measure for counting and controlling inventory in a retail store.

slice – a golf shot that curves significantly in the direction of the dominant hand of the player, e.g. toward the right for a right handed player; usually unintentional; see 'hook'.

spitter – the are two completely opposite schools of thought and action in felatio: swallowers and spitters; see 'swallower'.

squid – pejorative term for a member of the USN; often used by members of the USMC, as the Marine Corps is a branch of the Department of the Navy.

Staff Sergeant – Enlisted rank (E6) USMC and USA; equivalent to First Class Petty Officer (USN) and Technical Sergeant (USAF).

strap-on – a dildo with a harness which a woman wears strapped to her groin, which allows her to assume the roll of a man while engaging in sexual intercourse.

swallower – the are two completely opposite schools of thought and action in felatio: swallowers and spitters; see 'spitter'.

sweet – very good; the best.

top – the dominant person in an S&M or B&D relationship; female dominents are often known as 'Mistresses'; male dominants are ofter known as 'Masters'.

VA – Veteran's Administration.

wax – a procedure for removing hair; a sticky substance is applied to the area of skin to be denuded, then removed, taking the unwanted hair; see 'Honeymoon wax'.
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