COMFORT WOMEN CH. 03
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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.

----------- on to page 3

COMFORT WOMEN CH. 03
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
380 Works3,557 Followers
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

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