Message-ID: <14973eli$9809030534@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Bill Morgan" Subject: {Morgan} Repost: Susan Jennings 1 of 7 M/F Rom. tort. Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980902193940.23456.qmail@hotmail.com> Author's note: If you are looking for wall-to-wall sex, look elsewhere. This book is a romance with a military setting. Beyond that, the sex is comparable to - or less than - what one would find in almost any work of popular fiction. Permission is granted to post on any free site, as long as the copyright statement is included. Please advise the author of any such postings. This story - or novella - was posted earlier in the year. Subsequently I've learned more about posting in the interest of easy downloading and readability. This is Chapter 1 of 7. Comments are welcome and encouraged. Please address me at morg105829@aol.com. Susan Jennings Copyright by Morgan 1992, 1998; All rights reserved. Chapter 1 Susan Jennings didn't know what to do when she regained her senses. She was now, she assumed, a prisoner of war. She was in a POW camp, but she didn't see any of her medical detail there with her. Sue had no idea how long she had been there. The last thing she remembered was an explosion in the OR - the hospital's Operating Room - and then everything collapsed around her head. She wandered around the compound inside the barbed wire trying to get oriented. Other women seemed to be bartering their clothing, but she couldn't figure out what they were getting in return. It was terribly hot. On the other hand it was always hot in Vietnam. Eavesdropping on a transaction she found that the girl was bartering for food. Susan had never paid a great deal of attention to the very occasional lectures on prisoners' rights and obligations. After all, as a nurse she was a noncombatant. Of what earthly good could such information possibly do her? Now she was finding out. Feeling a little dizzy, she touched her scalp and discovered why. There was a lot of dried blood and what felt like a nasty laceration on the back of her scalp. The girl she had been watching completed her transaction and Susan asked her about it. The girl had taken off her bra, then put her shirt back on. She explained that there was only a tiny amount of rice given to the prisoners each day. Since she had been imprisoned for nearly three months, her bra was now hanging on her now-flattened chest so it didn't make any difference to her anyway. And it more or less guaranteed a full rice ration for the next thirty days. Then Susan asked about later - after the thirty days. The girl pointed to a couple of girls on the other side of the compound. One was naked to the waist retaining only her skirt. Others were completely naked. "What do they do?" Susan asked. "The ones with no clothes, I mean." "They have a very stark choice. They either trade their bodies or they go without. And if they go without for too long, they have no bodies to trade with," the girl replied. She pointed out an emaciated girl crouched in the far corner of the compound. "I think she's been here for over a year. She decided she wouldn't sell her body and now it's too late." Susan looked around and saw a guard watching her hungrily. With her golden-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes, she was a true beauty. Going up to the guard, she started to talk with him about rice. When she asked what her bra would be worth he replied that for her it would be a triple ration for two months. Susan accepted his offer on the spot. When he told her that she would have to take it off right there, she unbuttoned her uniform shirt, hung it over the wire and then took off her bra. At the sight of her full, firm breasts, the guard almost climbed through the fence. Before giving him her bra she asked him how and when she would get her extra food. After looking both ways the guard said she could have some right away. Taking her bra, he gave her a handful of ration bars. Susan immediately recognized them as being from Red Cross parcels that should have been given to the prisoners in the first place. Taking the ration bars, she realized that the guard had been a good-enough sort; there were eight of them. Making her way across the compound, she went up to the starving girl who had been pointed out to her. When she got closer, she saw that the girl was a human skeleton. Jennings doubted that she weighed even seventy-five pounds. The girl was hunkered down with her head resting on her knees. "Hi! I'm Sue Jennings. Who are you?" she asked. The girl looked up with a very vague, unfocussed look in her eyes. Susan realized with a shock that the girl was dangerously close to death. Then her green eyes focused and remarkably she even tried to smile. "Hi, Susan. I'm Ginny Cameron. I would shake hands, but I'm not sure I can even get up." Ginny's body was the color of mahogany from being bare in the tropic sun for so long. Putting the girl's arm over her shoulder, Susan helped her over to the side of one of the huts. Because of the time of year and Vietnam's closeness to the Equator, the sun was now almost directly overhead, but she found a little strip of shade under the hut's roof overhang. After gently easing Ginny Cameron down, Susan sat down beside her. "Ginny, you've got to eat something! You've really carried this diet thing too far already," she said with a bright smile. Ginny Cameron remarkably still retained a sense of humor. "I don't know... Sue, is it?... I think I can still spare another pound or two." Susan almost cried. The girl's breasts had completely disappeared and her ribs were so prominent she could count them just by looking. Even her thighs were now not much larger than the femur bone itself. Remembering what she knew about dieting and starvation, Susan remembered that the body first uses its fat and then breaks down and burns muscle tissue. Clearly this is what was happening to Ginny. And there wasn't any muscle left. Smiling at Ginny she said, "I brought you a gift." Carefully unwrapping one of the nutrition bars, she offered it to the girl. Ginny just looked at it without comprehension. Finally she said, "Are you giving this to me? Sue, I can't take it. You just don't know what you're doing. I made a choice and I guess it was a stupid choice. So now I'll die of it." Ignoring the girl's words, Jennings broke off a small piece of the very rich nutrition bar and put it between Ginny's lips. The girl just let it melt in her mouth. As she did a near- rapturous expression appeared on her face. Susan just continued feeding the starving girl small morsels until the bar was gone. Only then did Susan notice that Ginny's eyes were flowing with tears. "Sue," the girl asked, "Why are you doing this? You know it's too late, don't you? I've only got a few hours left and I guess I was almost looking forward to the release." Trying to smile, she continued, "Starvation is a hell of a way to die, though. But isn't there anything I can do for you?" Smiling warmly at the girl Susan replied, "Yes, there is! Ginny, please keep fighting. You were a beautiful girl before and you will be one again. Please? Try to hang on?" Virginia Cameron slowly nodded her head. * * * Over the next weeks and months Susan developed an abiding hatred for three people, all Americans: Homer Black, Colonel, U.S. Army Medical Corps, Charles Simon, Major, USA MC, and Judith Harrison, Captain, U.S. Army Nurse Corps. They were always well dressed, clearly well fed and housed outside the compound. She asked Ginny Cameron about them one day. Ginny by now had actually gained a couple of pounds and now could even move around a little. When Susan approached her, the girl smiled and asked, "How's the camp lifeguard today?" Then she frowned, shook her head and asked, "Susan, what are you trying to do? I heard about the episode with the guards and the male prisoners. What was that all about?" Susan rubbed her crotch remembering how she had taken thirty guards one after the other in order to try to save the lives of some of the men who were dying for lack of medicine. Susan was the only operational nurse - or medical person - inside the compound. Black, Simon and Harrison did nothing. Susan had traded her body for units of antibiotics and she still felt unclean. Now she was only wearing her shirt. All of her other garments had been traded for food and medicine which she had used for other prisoners. After quickly telling Ginny about her experience she concluded by saying, "It really wasn't too bad. I have a pretty liquid cunt which lubricated their entry pretty well. I'm all right." Looking at Susan, Ginny unbuttoned her shirt. By now Susan's tits had completely disappeared and her skin was almost as deep a shade of mahogany as Ginny's. "What are you doing, Sue?" she demanded. "I know you get enough food to keep yourself fit. But I think you're losing weight even faster than I did. You're giving it all away, aren't you?" Susan only shrugged but did not reply. Instead she asked, "Ginny, what's with Black and company? Why do they live so well?" "It's the shame of the camp," Ginny replied with a grimace. "I think they sign off for all the Red Cross parcels and the rest of that stuff, certifying that everything's fine here in the camp. In return they get whatever they want." Then she frowned at Susan and continued, "Incidentally, I hear they hate your guts. Sue, you're a threat to them, and they'll get you if they can." Susan looked at Ginny Cameron and realized she was truly a beautiful woman. Before she had not realized how glorious Ginny's hair was - a beautiful shade of auburn. She said so and Ginny gave her a skeletal smile. "You're changing the subject," she accused. Looking at Susan carefully she added, "Susan Jennings, I want to swear a solemn oath to you. If I get out of here alive, I want you to know I will do anything - *anything* - for you that it is ever in my power to do. I owe you my life. You know it, Sue. I just want you to know that I know it, too." Over the previous days they had noticed that the guards had been increasingly nervous. Since the prisoners received no news of any kind they couldn't identify the source of the nervousness. Just then a guard came along cracking a whip and ordered all the prisoners to assemble in the center of the compound. Susan started to help Ginny to her feet but the guard pushed her away. Ginny almost made it to her feet but failed, falling back to the ground. The guard stood over the prostrate girl and held out both of this hands with all his fingers extended. Ginny was going to receive ten lashes with the bullwhip. Knowing it would kill the girl, Susan stripped off her shirt and covered Ginny with her own body. The whip came down across her five times. Each stroke felt like a white-hot wire cut ting into her back. After five lashes the guard made a rolling motion with his hands. Susan rolled over and bridged her body over the fallen girl. Again the lash came down, this time across her breasts, belly and loins. When the whipping was finished, Susan rolled off the red-haired girl and just lay bleeding in the dirt. Then the guard commander came up and pointed to her. Looking up she saw that a cross had been erected and it was obviously for her. Swallowing hard, Susan gave Ginny a quick thumbs-up sign. Then she threw her her shirt and said with a little grin, "It doesn't look like I'll be needing this anymore." Susan accompanied the guards to the cross where she was quickly tied by her wrists to the crosspiece and left to bake in the bright sun. A guard was posted at the base of the cross to keep other prisoners from helping her in any way. Soon the pain in her shoulders became unbearable and she had difficulty breathing. After hanging there throughout the day, by late afternoon she was in a terminal stupor, very close to death. Sounds of gunfire and nearby explosions partially roused her. Moments later American troops swept through the compound, routing the guards who had already retreated into the surrounding jungle. Susan tried to raise her head which had been lolling against her chest. She could see helicopter transports supported by gunships land and begin the evacuation of the liberated prisoners. When she felt strong arms holding her, she was just slumped against her bonds unable to move. An American was holding her while he reached and slashed the ropes holding her to the cross. By the time he got her down the last wave of assault troops was loading up. Ordering his men to run for it, he said something cryptic to them about "the supply point." Rick Jackson was a major in the U.S. Marine Corps and was in command of the rescue mission. Watching the last of his men mount up, he glanced at the girl in his arms and was shocked at her condition. As the last of the helicopters lifted off, he picked the girl up and moved back the way his troops had come in, climbing one of the very rare hills in that part of Vietnam. Meanwhile, several gunships stayed close to the camp to discourage pursuit. As he moved up the slope he felt a sharp sting in his left thigh. Although he fell, he was able to keep his body between the girl and the ground. Recovering, he put her over his right shoulder in a fireman's carry and, using his weapon as a crutch, made his way to the supply cave they had used earlier. Rick hoped the shot had been a lucky one. Since he had not heard the sound of the shot, he assumed it was a stray bullet and he had just been unlucky - at least he hoped so. If he and the girl had been observed entering the cave it was all over. He knew the North Vietnamese had been driven back into the jungle but had not been seriously hurt. Putting the girl down on the floor of the cave, he limped towards the rear where large piles of supplies were stacked. Locating the first-aid kit, he put it on the ground. After using his combat knife to slit his fatigues near the wound site, he poured antibiotic powder on it and tied a bandage over it. Remarkably, the wound had not bled much. Completing the first aid, he looked through the supplies and found several things he was looking for. After first spreading a ground cloth and then a blanket, he picked up the girl and placed her on it. After pouring antibiotic powder on the vicious cuts, he put antiseptic ointment over each one. Although he couldn't be sure, it seemed that the cuts had been made by a whip. As he moved the girl, he was astonished at how thin and light she was. Carrying her - even up the hill after he had been wounded - had been no trouble at all. Finally, he thought to do something he probably should have done much earlier. Opening his canteen he gently poured a small amount of water into her mouth. She gagged, sputtered, but then swallowed. Then he heard her voice for the first time, very faint and rasping, say, "More, please..." With her eyes now open, he found himself looking into the most vivid blue eyes he had ever seen. Gently holding her head he trickled more water into her mouth. Looking around the cave he spied a fatigue jacket which he grabbed and wrapped around her. She almost drowned in it. After putting down the canteen he opened a ration bar. Then he did for her what she had done for Ginny: He broke off small pieces and put them in her mouth. The first few she merely allowed to melt. Then as she started to become more aware, she slowly began to chew. Rick found he liked holding this battered girl in his arms as she methodically chewed on the food. When he saw her jaws stop working, he had managed to get nearly two full bars of the concentrate into her. Since she had fallen asleep, he gathered her into his arms, drew her into a sleeping bag with him and then held her as she slept. That night one of the more-or-less regular torrential tropic rainstorms lashed the surrounding jungle. Hearing it Rick breathed a prayer of thanks hoping the rain would wash away any tracks they might have left during their escape earlier in the day. Eventually he, too, fell into a deep sleep. When he awakened he found himself looking into those blue eyes again. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and he was startled to realize that his hand had entered the unbuttoned fatigue jacket and was over her breast - or where her breast should have been. It was right on top of the worst of the lacerations across her chest. When he yanked his hand away as if it were on a hot stove, she smiled weakly and said in a stronger, but still very husky whisper, "Please don't. Please put your hand back where it was. It felt so good." Gently he moved his hand back to where it had been. Seeing her eyes close he went back to sleep, too. Later he was awakened by her movements as she tried to reach their food supply without disturbing him. When she realized he was awake, she grinned, scrambled for a supply of food, and brought it back to within easy reach. In spite of being in the jungle, Rick realized that the dampness coupled with the cool ground temperature made it feel chilly inside the cave. The sleeping bag felt good. When she clambered back into the bag, he caught a glimpse of a shrunken and lacerated buttock. As he watched, she very carefully unwrapped a ration bar. Only then did he realize he was watching the movements of a person who was used to eating the tiniest sliver of food. Carefully she fed the bar to him in the same way he had fed her the previous day. Only after he finished his did she open one for herself. Then she repeated the process with a second and then a third. Finally she zipped up the side of the bag, carefully positioned his hand on her chest and went back to sleep. They spent the entire second day together in the sleeping bag just eating and sleeping. When Rick awakened late in the day he was startled. Susan was out of the bag, had located a tarp and draped it over the cave entrance to try to make it light-tight. Having also lighted a small gasoline lantern she was inspecting his leg. Only then did Rick realize he was feverish from the bullet wound. Susan had found a much larger first-aid kit which was now lying open on the cave floor. She was hunkered down going through its contents when she felt his eyes on her. Looking up at him she smiled warmly and asked, "How do you feel?" Then she came over to him with her pitifully emaciated hand outstretched and added, "My name is Susan Jennings. Thank you for saving my life." Rick took the hand and was astonished at the strength in the grip of a hand that was almost skeletal. "Hi, Susan. I'm Richard Jackson, but everyone calls me Rick. Major, United States Marine Corps. I'm afraid I screwed up, Sue... Is Sue all right, or do you prefer Susan?" "Sue is fine," she replied with a warm smile. Then pretending to glare at him she demanded, "What do you mean, screwed up? The last thing I remember, I was playing the Christ rôle in an Easter Pageant, and we had just come to the crucifixion scene. I thought it was the end of the play. Now I'm warm, cozy and loved." Her face fell on the last word. "I'm sorry, Rick. I didn't mean that. Anyway, I'm about to fix you up. I was just taking inventory. Although I'm certainly not a surgeon, I'm afraid I will have to operate to remove the bullet. If I don't, there's some risk you could lose the leg. I think I can do it, but you can see I have been in better shape in my life. It's your leg, though, and it's your choice. Do you want me to try?" He smiled to try to take the sting out of what he was about to say. "Aside from being Susan Jennings, a girl with the most beautiful blue eyes in the world, who are you?" Susan was on her knees on the floor of the cave. Although she tried to jump to attention, she couldn't make it. She made a little face and knelt up straight, though, saluting as she had been taught to do at Newport. "Major, Susan Jennings, Lieutenant, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps, certified as an OR specialist. Do I have your permission to operate, sir?" Rick's heart flipped. Never had he met a braver person than this. "Go to it, Doctor Jennings," he replied with a smile. "You'll make it. Now what do you want me to do?" Susan returned his smile. "First, try to figure out the most comfortable position for your leg. I found some morphine ampules, so I won't have to be probing with you screaming in my ear." She had all her materials and he watched in amazement as she carefully cut away his pants leg and then very gently removed the battle dressing that was still in place. Rick was surprised at the tenderness of her touch. Taking an ampule, she fitted a needle and injected his leg above the wound site. Then she went for more food for both of them, while she gave the morphine time to work. In moments they were companionably eating their nutrition bars. When she finished, she carefully scrubbed, then put her hands into surgical gloves. Even though the gloves were highly stretchable rubber, her fingers had lost so much flesh they were loose in places. Then she carefully and painstakingly scrubbed the area surrounding the wound. She had even found a surgical mask to put across her face and Rick admired how deftly she had tied it into position. Looking at him she asked, "Are you ready?" He just nodded. Carefully, Susan used a probe to track down the bullet hole while feeling for the slug. He had briefly told her how he had been hit, so she was not surprised when she reached the bullet just below the skin. As he had hoped, it had been a spent bullet striking him at its extreme penetrating range. It had been a very lucky - or unlucky - shot. Taking the forceps she followed the probe down the wound. Feeling the nose of the plier-like instrument contact the slug, she opened the nose to grip it. Carefully she manipulated it until she could feel it fasten on the bullet. Slowly retracting the instrument, she carefully eased the bullet out. When it finally emerged from the wound it was followed by a flow of blood mixed with pus. Then she reentered the wound with the forceps, reached the muscle tissue, very carefully locked the forceps and retracted. When the tip reappeared it held what she had been probing for: a piece of his uniform the slug had driven into the wound ahead of itself. She allowed the wound to drain while examining what she had extracted. Meanwhile, Rick had been watching the process with interest. Susan had set up a plasma bottle beside him before beginning the operation. Now she opened the clamp to allow the fluid to enter his vein. Then she powdered the area with antibiotic powder and carefully bandaged it. Finally, taking off the mask she smiled and said, "You'll live, Major. The bullet remained in one piece and I got the bit of uniform driven in ahead of it. What do you think?" "Lieutenant, when did you do your residence in combat surgery? That was as nice as I could imagine. And Susan, I'm really serious. I'm not teasing you at all. They couldn't have done a better job at Pearl Harbor or Bethesda. Thank you!" "Rick, I guess I'm weaker than I thought," Sue said quietly. "Would you mind holding me again? I would like us both to get into the sleeping bag and sleep. And if you can bring yourself to do it again, I would really like it if you would hold my breast - or where it was when I had one. Do you mind awfully?" Rick held her in his arms in the sleeping bag. Only then did he realize that she felt hot to the touch. In an instant she was asleep. As he began to doze off he only hoped the North Vietnamese weren't pursuing too relentlessly. His hand was on her chest and gently he ran his fingertip over her nipple. Almost instantly it became turgid, and she gave a little murmur of pleasure while she held his hand in place. In moments they were both asleep. The next morning Rick awakened to find the sleeping bag empty. Susan was already up and about. The tarp covering the cave mouth had been removed and the gasoline lantern had been extinguished. Cans of food had been gathered and something that smelled very good was cooking on the gasoline stove. Rick just watched Susan move around. In just a few moments she ladled the food into two mess kits and came over to awaken him. She smiled warmly when she saw him watching her and gave him one of them. Sitting down beside him on the edge of the sleeping bag she slowly began to eat. In spite of trying to eat very slowly, it was no good. Suddenly she jumped to her feet, ran to the mouth of the cave and vomited up everything she had just eaten. Looking very chagrined she returned to the sleeping bag, sat down, took a nutrition bar and very slowly and carefully ate it. When he finished the food on his plate, she returned to the stove and turned it off completely. Bringing the pot back, she emptied it into Rick's mess kit. "I'm sorry, Rick," she said sorrowfully. "I thought I could hold some solid food, but I guess I was too ambitious. I'm sorry you saw it. And I apologize for ruining your breakfast." Her face was crestfallen as she spoke. But then she brightened and said, "Rick, there are all kinds of military things back in the cave. I got some out, but I think there's a lot more we could use if I only knew what they are for and how to use them." For the first time Rick realized that there was a light machine gun now emplaced at the mouth of the cave. Rocks had been carefully piled around to provide some concealment and some protection for the gunner. The location she had chosen was perfect, providing the broadest possible field of fire. Moreover, she had done it all quietly so as not to awaken him and managed to do it in spite of her enfeebled condition. "Susan, you are unbelievable! But I thought nurses were supposed to be noncombatant? That machine gun looks pretty 'combatant' to me!" Opening her fatigue jacket, his heart sank as he saw the whip cuts across her body. He motioned for her to come closer to him and she did. "I thought we were, too, Rick," she said softly. "But I've been used and abused to such a degree I've become a combatant. Rick, what do I do with the rest of this stuff?" "Right now you do nothing!" he exclaimed. "Susan, I'm so sorry. You operated on me like the skilled surgeon you are. Meanwhile, I knew that you were sliced to ribbons, but I didn't do a damned thing about it. Lieutenant, lie down on the sleeping bag," he ordered as he opened up the zipper and spread it out flat on the cave floor. Susan looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face, but then did as he asked. Taking off the combat jacket she lay face down on the sleeping bag. Remembering how she had cleaned his wound, he decided that he had to do the same thing for her. Retrieving the large first-aid kit he found the preoperative cleaner and the surgical sponges. Very carefully he started to clean out the lacerations on her back. As he worked he realized how bad the cuts were. Moreover, each cut now appeared to be infected along its entire length. Although they had all scabbed over, he began to scrub anyway. She involuntarily winced and he knew that the pain must be excruciating, but still she made no sound. Carefully he kept at it, scrubbing each cut from end to end. As he removed the dirt, he felt like kicking himself. The dirt was probably the primary source of the infection and her resulting fever. The wounds should have been completely cleaned out much sooner. This time he did a good job and scrubbed them clean. Then he put more of the anaesthetic ointment on each cut after carefully sprinkling antibiotic powder into the cuts. Finally he put a light dressing over each one to keep any new dirt out. When he asked her to turn over, she did. Again he found himself looking into her beautiful blue eyes, now filled with tears. Obviously the pain had been terrible as he had worked. Suddenly it occurred to him that he was looking at a nude woman. He became aware of the small tight patch of curly golden pubic hair below her emaciated body. She looked at him as he looked at her body. "It's really pretty ugly, isn't it?" she asked softly. "What is?" he replied. "My body. It's the sorriest excuse for a female body you've ever seen. Rick, thank you. I know how hard it is to do what you are doing. It's really terrible to have to work on an ugly body, and they don't get any uglier than mine. Thank you for not laughing - or vomiting. Either reaction - or both - would be entirely appropriate. Rick, I think a couple of the ones in front are the worst. Particularly the one across my breasts - or where they used to be. It's pretty bad with infection. Why don't you let me do them myself? You already did the hard ones on my back that I couldn't reach. But I can reach these just fine. And you have to be getting sick just looking at me!" Rick came closer to crying at that instant than he had since he was six years old. This girl who had nursed him was offering to clean her own terrible wounds - an extremely painful and nearly impossible process - just so he wouldn't have to look at them. "Lieutenant, you are the bravest person I have ever met - and possibly the dumbest! Now just lie back. I found something for you to bite on. I know it hurts like hell." Suddenly Rick's face brightened and he exclaimed, "Wait a minute! How about me giving you a couple of shots of morphine while I clean you up?" "Thank you, Major," Sue replied warmly, "But I would rather you didn't. I will take something to bite down on, though." He gave her a strip of leather he had cut off a bag in the back of the cave. She bit down on it, made a face, and then bit down again. She nodded her head indicating she was ready and he began to clean her wounds. The worst cut was indeed the one across her breasts. Where it went over her left breast, he realized it was almost half-an-inch deep. After opening the cut he watched blood flowing down her side as he scrubbed all the dirt out of the deep cut. He followed the same procedure he had on her back. He scrubbed out the cut, put on antibiotics, then ointment, and finally a bandage. He was shocked at how quickly the bandage across her breasts became blood-soaked. Although he had the plasma bottle set up hanging from a forked stick, he didn't know what to do next. Susan took the needle from him and, to his amazement, managed to find a vein in her left arm. Carefully, she inserted it using her right hand. When it was fully in place, she fainted. Rick had watched the process so he released the clamp on the bottle and let the plasma flow. When it was drained he carefully removed the needle. Positioning her in the sleeping bag, he climbed in beside her. In just a moment he was also asleep. The next days were spent preparing to defend the cave. Susan's fever was reduced but still not back to normal. Nevertheless, she positioned a large number of Claymore mines around the approaches to the cave, making trip after trip in spite of her weak condition. Rick was amused. She had looked for trousers but couldn't find any. Similarly, although there were several pairs of combat boots, there were none nearly small enough to fit her dainty feet. She told him that American women's boots were highly prized by the North Vietnamese because only American women had feet small enough for their boots to fit the guards' feet. Susan set up a number of mines with trip-wire detonators and others that would be fired from the cave. She was meticulous about concealing the detonator wires. Their cave overlooked a roadway leading to the prison camp and commanded a road bridge over a small gorge. Rick showed her how to apply C-3 plastic explosive to a bridge and how to wire in the detonators. As he watched, she scrambled around the structure. Suddenly he wondered if he had lost his mind. Although he had a leg wound, he could move around and realized he should. Instead, their perimeter defenses were being installed by a girl who was lacerated, feverish, and emaciated. Slowly but surely all the munitions in the cave except for the small-arms ammunition were sited. Although they had a radio, it didn't work. Rick suspected that it just needed fresh batteries. Finally, Susan made her way back to the cave and just collapsed. Smiling at him she pretended to complain, "I'm going back to the OR! There's no heavy lifting. Rick, I'm sorry I'm so badly out of shape." He had regularly checked her over and was keeping his fingers crossed. It was clear even to his untrained eye that she was going to have scars across her body from the whip marks. He only hoped the Navy had skilled plastic surgeons who could put her back together again. Looking at her, he gave her a full-bearded smile. She just smiled back, then unbuttoned her combat jacket exposing her entire body. Rick suddenly realized she was starting to look more like a woman again and less like a skeleton. Reaching out, he felt her chest. Now he could even feel a slight rounding where her breasts should have been and felt her nipple harden under his rough fingers. Since there had been no chance to wash he knew that he stank to high heaven. Now his beard was only a little darker than Susan's hair. While his hair was brown with gold flecks, hers still was liquid gold in spite of all the dirt. He was startled to realize that her pubic hair almost exactly matched the color of the hair on his head. Shaking his head to try to quell his sexual thoughts, he asked, "Have you seen any batteries back there, by any chance? I think our radio would work if the damned batteries weren't dead. As it is our evacuation chopper is nearly two weeks overdue." Susan got back on her feet and went to the back of the cave. After rummaging around in several containers she came back with two handfuls of batteries. "Are these the right size? And do I have enough?" Rick glanced at the batteries, opened the battery box on the radio and loaded in eight fresh batteries. Going to the front of the cave he extended the antenna. When he spoke into the microphone and gave his call sign he was surprised at the instant response he obtained. The reception was outstanding because there was an AWACS plane on station almost directly overhead which picked up his transmission and in moments patched him through to headquarters in Saigon. Rick quickly explained their situation, and a pickup was scheduled for the second morning at dawn. After having felt abandoned, he was relieved to learn that the AWACS would maintain position and monitor their radio frequency continuously until they were picked up. That evening Susan picked through their food supplies looking for the very best of the remaining food. Since they would only be staying one more day, they could really feast. She had now recovered enough in just the few weeks so that she could eat normal meals although she still could not eat very much. Carefully she cooked the food and then they sat side by side on the sleeping bag - she now thought of it as their home - and ate in companionable silence. Rick had been watching her as she prepared their dinner. Here is a truly remarkable girl, he thought. Try as he might, though, she would not let him do any cooking in the cave, and he had to admit that the food she served was far better than anything he had ever eaten in the field even though it came from the same containers. Later that night they were lying together in the sleeping bag and his hand was over her breast where she liked it to be. Now there was even a small bulge since she had started to regain some of her lost weight. Turning her head to look up at him Susan asked, "Rick, would you do me a great favor?" Looking down at her Rick was startled to see that there were tears in her eyes. "Of course, Sue! Anything. What is it?" Swallowing hard and with her tears beginning to flow she said softly, "Rick, would you please make love to me? I know the whole idea has to be repulsive to you..." Then she proceeded to tell him how she had regularly been fucked by the guards, including the time with thirty of them at once. She spared herself nothing and seemed to be trying to emphasize how vile she had been. Listening to her tale, it was all Rick could do to keep from starting to cry himself. She concluded her tale of self-degradation all focused on trying to get food and medicine for her fellow prisoners. Finally she said, "I'm emaciated, ugly... There's not a single reason I can think of, except... Rick, I really need to know if I'm still a woman. I need to know if I'm capable of pleasuring a man. Please take me!" Taking her into his arms, he slipped off her combat jacket. Then Susan unzipped the sleeping bag and helped Rick off with his clothes. He made a wry face as he smelled the rank odor of his body when she removed his underwear. When he commented on the stink all she said was, "It's a real man's smell." Finally he was undressed. Then Susan looked down at herself and then at him. Kneeling between his spread legs she bent over, took his prick into her very thin hands and began to kiss and suck it. In just moments his cock was in a raging erection which she kissed tenderly. Lifting her head she said softly, "Rick, I've been beaten on my back and chest. You have a bad leg. May I be on top? That way might be less painful for both of us." Bending over, she kissed him on the lips. Trying to be careful of her cuts he held her and returned her kiss. Although he now knew exactly where all of her cuts were, tonight she didn't care about the pain at all. It was clear that she wanted to be held tightly and kissed with as much passion as Rick could muster. As their lips met, Rick suddenly realized it was the first kiss they had ever shared. In spite of sleeping together with his hand on her breast they had never kissed before. The first kiss was unbelievable for them both. Initially it was filled with warmth and goodness and love. Then the passion increased and just flowed in rivers between them. There was a flow of electricity that almost knocked Susan over, and ringing bells that they both heard. As they continued their kiss, Susan could feel Rick's already immense cock get larger still. Carefully she took it and positioned it at her vaginal opening. Slowly she lowered herself down on it, impaling herself on the giant pipe that ripped her insides. Even before they shared their first kiss Susan's cunt had been flowing with her juices. Now they were flowing in a flood to lubricate the passage of the ravaging cock. She had never had an experience like it in her life. For his part Rick had never had such an experience either. Susan was still emaciated. She had no tits, no hips, and no legs. All she had was skin and bones. Her thighs were still like pipe stems, yet it was almost as if she were worshiping him with what little was left of her body. The feelings she was able to create with her cunt were utterly marvelous. Although he could feel his cock stretching her insides, Sue seemed to revel in it. She made ecstatically happy noises deep in her body as she just rose and fell on the impaling weapon. He felt her reach an orgasm with her pelvis moving by itself as she let out a scream of pure joy. Sweat was starting to pour off her body as she regained control and then continued to fuck herself. She reached a second orgasm, a third, and a fourth. Now it was almost continuous but still, incredibly, whenever Rick felt that he was about to release she would subtly change her tempo so that his need to cum receded. Finally she could control it no longer. Dropping all her weight on him she drove his cock as deep into her body as it would go just as it began to pump his cum into her. Again she let out a wordless scream of pure joy as she felt him flood her insides. Then she could take it no longer as her nervous system shorted out from the sensory overload. She collapsed on his chest in a dead faint. Although his cock was still inside her, he pulled the sleeping bag over them, zipped it up, and just held her close. Gently he rolled on his side while his cock continued to impale her. In moments they were both sound asleep. Early the next morning the first of the Claymores exploded jerking them both awake. Rick scrambled for the light machine gun while Sue reached for her combat jacket. Peering over their homemade parapet of rocks they saw that a small patrol had been wiped out by the well-placed mine. Unfortunately, the patrol had been on the path which led right to their cave. Although the mine had done its work well, the explosion had brought the prison camp, less than half-a-mile away, alive with a rush. They could hear the sounds of heavy equipment - presumably tanks - starting up. Rick picked up the radio, punched the "Talk" button and said, "Mayday, Mayday. This is Gopher One. It looks like we shook up the hornets' nest and the hornets are out in force. Any available air support would be greatly appreciated." The AWACS controller responded immediately with the welcome message that air support was on the way. Both fighter bombers and helicopter gunships were inbound and Rick was requested to mark their location with smoke. Locating a Very pistol he fired red smoke flares in the agreed-upon patterns. Meanwhile, while they were talking, Rick could hear the sound of tanks moving down the road toward the bridge. Susan had already wired down the contacts for the bridge charges to the detonator. While Rick scrambled to get dressed he could hear Susan saying, "Come on... Come on... Just a little bit more... a bit more... Now!" She screamed the last word and twisted the detonator as the first tank was about to clear the bridge and the second had just gone out on the span. There were huge explosions at both ends of the bridge. The span just tiredly collapsed in its center and fell into the river below taking the tanks and accompanying troops down with it. Turning to Rick, Susan was beaming with pride as she asked, "Was that okay, Rick? Did I do it right?" "It couldn't be better!" he exclaimed. "But let's keep a sharp eye out. They almost certainly know where we are now." After the bridge was blown, all hell broke loose. Wave after wave of assaults were launched at their positions. The first few were broken up by Susan's remotely-fired Claymores. Others were broken up by the fighters and gunships that were flooding the area like angry hornets. But still the attacks continued. Rick was utterly astonished at Susan's strength and stamina in spite of her still-emaciated condition. Watching her handle the machine gun she reminded him of an Amazon. An emaciated Amazon, he thought. That's certainly a contradiction in terms! And yet it was true. While just snatching at the nutrition bars and sipping water, they beat back attack after attack through the day and then into the night. Finally at dawn - it was the day they were supposed to be evacuated - the North Vietnamese launched an all-out assault preceded by heavy mortar fire. Finally their luck ran out. A mortar round exploded inside the cave and shredded Rick with shrapnel. When she saw him hit and drop to the ground, Susan went berserk. Grabbing an Armalite and a sack of grenades, she charged the attackers, cutting them to pieces. Although she was hit three times herself, she neither knew nor cared. All she knew was that the man she loved more than life itself was dead. Between the Armalite and the grenades, there was not an enemy left alive when the Marine Rangers arrived moments later. Susan saw them arrive, motioned toward the cave mouth and then collapsed. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----