Passing the Time

Sophia stretched her form as best she could as she laid back along the cot. Her uninjured leg draped lazily over Elisabeta's back as the signal's corps girl experimentally slid her tongue along the officer's outer lips. Sophia gently shifted beneath her and nodded with a smile as the small pink tongue drew closer to her warm, moist center. "Might as well pass the time." she thought to herself. She'd be stuck on this train for at least 24 hours, and experience taught her that getting warmed up for the boys, who would inevitably fall prey to boredom, was the best thing to do.

"We are going to investigate a matter important to the Kremlin." Sophia replied with a finality that made it clear she wasn't going to go into detail, furrowing her brow at Elisabeta's timid licks and probings. It was soon very evident that the girl had spent little time indeed between the legs of another woman. Sophia glanced down at her, and gently lifted her chin. "Not much experience at this, I assume?" she asked. The girl blushed, and shook her head.

"Just in the showers at the Commune." she replied. Sophia smiled sympathetically. Such affairs were usually quick, and most often demanded by the less-than-hygenic of the residents. A pretty girl such as Elisabeta could expect to leave the communal shower shivering from the cold water and with a foul taste in her mouth. The Romanians in particular had learned that having same sex showers was necessary to preserve fresh water.

"You've got to learn how to enjoy yourself, girl. Sexual pleasure makes you more fertile, and thus more valuable to the Motherland. Here, climb up. I'll show you. Sgt Albescu, care to take over?" Sophia asked. The man shrugged, popped the last bit of soggy bread into his mouth, and stood. The shy gypsy ("who would have thought of such a thing?" Sophia mused to herself) nervously slid her skirt down her shapely legs. She had the typical thick mane of pubic hair characteristic of her people, but had thankfully shaved her lips. Sophia motioned for her to come closer as Albescu unceremoniously unbuttoned his pants. He paused.

"Cock or tongue?" he asked before lowering them. Bodgan glanced over as Elisabeta slid onto the bed, her knees on either side of Sophia's head. The officer pursed her lips for a moment.

"Surprise me." she said finally, adjusting the pillow below her. Scoot up a bit, girl. I don't have a meter long tongue." Elisabeta brushed her flowing black hair over her ear, and slowly lowered herself down onto Sophia's mouth. Sophia surveyed the timid girl's sex. It had smallish, purple lips and a bright pink center, looked quite tight, and smelled slightly sweet. She gave it a quick test lick, and was pleased it wasn't salty to the taste.

Sophia, while not bisexual by nature, was well-trained in the art of pleasing a woman. She aught to be, given her expert instruction at the Commissariat. She remembered staring up with dreamy eyes at a portrait of Stalin as the finest cunnilingists in the Bloc brought her to mind-shattering orgasms while the loudspeakers blared around her; as well as Commissar Ludmilla Droyovich angrily yanking on the rope attached to the ball-ended anal hook inserted inside of her ass when Sophia wasn't performing proper technique to the steely eyed lesbian's satisfaction. It was time to put their lessons to good use, once again. Her tongue slid between the gypsy's inner and outer labia as her lips massaged the delicate folds.

To her delight, Sgt Albescu was an able and trained veteran in the matter. She couldn't see him, but his small, short kisses and broad tongue strokes against her flowery pink lips were a welcome change from the drunken slobberings she'd become accustomed to among the enlisted and drafted men. Sophia arched her hips as she felt his hands slide under her ass to give him better access to her pussy, pleasantly cooing as a finger slid inside of her. It had been a while since she'd treated herself to a nice, relaxing fuck. After the Bucket, she needed one.

Sophia began sliding her tongue up and down Elisabeta's channel, ending with a quick tonguing of her tender bulb. She could feel the girl getting warmer and wetter with each pass. Albescu, sensing Sophia's own arousal, had moved directly to encircling her clit and sucking on it with quick "pops" before resuming his rhythmic lickings. She felt her strong vaginal walls involuntarily clamp down on his finger as she placed her foot on his shoulder. She knew he'd want some release before too long, but ran her fingers through his short-cropped hair and swiveled her hips in encouragement.

She glanced up to see Elisabeta rubbing her surprisingly ample breasts through her uniform. The Romanians hadn't quite mastered the art of flattering tailorship, as was evident when the girl unbuttoned her tunic to reveal her ample chest. Sophia directly targeted the gypsy's clit as she watched the girl free her heavy breasts from their confinement. Her eyes were closed and lips open as Sophia continued to lick and flick while she ground her sex into Albescu's mouth.

Suddenly, his precious tongue was gone. She felt the weight shift on the cot, and was unsurprised when two strong hands appeared on Elisabeta's breasts. The shy girl leaned back against him as Sophia felt his cockhead at her sex. With a slow, deliberate press, he was inside her. Albescu began to kiss Elisabeta's neck, eliciting a shudder and a trickle of fluid onto Sophia's lips. She licked them clean and resumed her attentions while Albescu began pumping into her. "Bed rest isn't so bad..." she thought to herself, allowing the stress of combat and the anxiety of returning to Stalingrad to bleed away as the train lumbered on towards its destination.

.....................................................

Vogel's first indication that he was awake was the throbbing in his head. "I have a concussion." he idly noted, correctly. The next was a dull ache in his shoulders. Slowly, his good eye opened to see only darkness. One by one, his body parts relayed their condition to his mind. His legs ached in a very peculiar way. His calfs were relaxed, but his thighs hurt. His back was sore but undamaged, and his head felt three sizes too big. He remembered the train derailing. His fingers were sticky. Had he killed someone? He couldn't remember.

"You're awake." a feminine voice said from the darkness. "You pissed yourself, so we took your pants." Vogel looked side to side, but the pain in his skull **** his head to sink into his chest. The pain in his shoulders was intensifying. He tried to rub them, but found his wrists were bound. With only his eyes, he looked left and right.

"Mein Gott..." he thought to himself. His wrists were bound to a horizontal beam. Glancing down, he saw that his feet were resting on the floor, but only just barely. His body shivered suddenly. They'd taken more than just his pants. They'd taken every stitch of clothing he had. It was the next pain that hit that really confused the Wehrmacht soldier. His testicles ached badly.

"Was...was ist das...." he asked, each word sending a fresh shot of pain into his skull. The woman stood, and said something in Russian. A moment later, someone lifted a hatch. He was underground, apparently. Sunlight streamed into the room, sending fresh agony his way. He clamped his eyes and gritted his teeth until his good eye adjusted to the light. The woman sitting with him in the bare, dirt-walled hole was surprisingly attractive. Dark red hair and a fair complected face stared at him from behind a fur-trimmed open great coat; open to reveal smallish but firm breasts and a shapely torso that tapered into toned thighs and ended with knee-high fur-trimmed boots.

Vogel stopped trying to make sense of it all. He closed his blue eyes, and thought back to his training. "I am Sturmkrieger Karl Vogel, Shock Troop Regiment 188, Beowulf Company 962; and that is all I will tell you." It was one of the handful of things he knew how to say in Russian. He took a breath as she stood. "I am Sturmkrieger Karl Vogel, Shock Troop Regiment 188, Beowulf Company..." he said as she approached him, cupping her breast. "I am...

"Sturmkrieger Karl Vogel, yes yes. I heard you. I don't care about that." she said. He stared at her as she approached. His body shivered as a cold blast of wind entered the underground bunker. She inched closer, pulling on her puffy nipple. "I only care about this!" she said, grasping his balls firmly. Vogel tensed suddenly, drawing away from her. She squeezed and kneeded his dangling testicles in her hand as she bit her lip.

"I...I am Sturmkrieger Karl Vogel...Shock Troop Regiment 188..." he said as she lowered herself to her knees. "Beowulf...Beowulf...Company..." he said as her pouty lips took his cockhead between them. As he felt her slide her lips further up his shaft, his head throbbed again, shaking him out of it. "I am...I am Sturmkrieger..." he said as he felt her lips brush his pubic hair as she took his entire length into her throat, a moan vibrating his cock as she sucked him. He'd been trained to resist interrogation, but not like this. His balls were so heavy, and hurt. If only he could cum...

She pulled her lips off of him, and smiled. "You are Sturmkrieger Karl Vogel..." she said, licking along his shaft. His bare toes curled in the dirt floor. "and you are my prisoner."