Molti nemici, molto onore, part 2

Luciella Moretti smoothed out the hem of the blue and white sailor dress that she'd fished out of a steamer trunk with one hand while she leafed through 'The Patriotic Primer for Enlisted USN Sailors', a contemptuous smirk decorating her full ruby-red lips. When she'd watched all of the propaganda films about how corrupt and decadent the Americans were, a "race" of cultureless and aimless cattle purposefully kept weak so that their Jewish and Freemason masters could easily control them, she'd assumed a lot of it was exaggeration. Now, she felt like a fool for ever doubting it. This primer, supposedly for a nation's soldiers, was full of cheerful, big-eyed cartoon characters cracking jokes on every page! It was not an exaggeration to say that books the Stadt distributed to literal children treated their subject matter more seriously. Instead of a strong, proud, flinty-eyed man, the character meant to represent the everyman sailor was a short, round-faced, perpetually-befuddled idiot called 'Seaman Snafu', and instead of showing him following the rules and regulations in the accompanying text, he was shown bungling every responsibility he was given! Look, here was a strip showing him in one panel with exaggerated hearts in his eyes, sneaking up behind a voluptuously drawn woman in the sailor's uniform who was loading a shell, telling her he had the next one ready and thrusting his cartoonishly oversized manhood forward - only for the next panel to show the girl, with a look of sudden concern on her face, having closed the cannon breech on his crotch and 'Snafu' screaming in pain. Underneath this foolishness was the caption "Don't bother your fellow crewwomen while they're busy with dangerous equipment! Keep it in your pants 'til the end of watch or request a break, first!"

It had been a great surprise for Luciella to find such materials in the women's bunkroom - apparently, they were issued the same one as the crewmen, with a small, additional 'Women's Auxiliary Guide to Raising Morale (Yours and his!)' underneath it. Judging by the chalk slates of watch assignments posted on several walls, the silly cartoon wasn't exaggerating; the female crew were assigned to every station, including as gunners! And looking at the manifest (which had been hastily drawn up and only listed officers), even the captain was female. Luciella suddenly felt much more sympathy for the commandant who'd tried to keep her from joining the kampfschwimmers on active missions. Look where that slippery slope led, if the men in command didn't keep it in check!

She looked down at the blue and white dress, which was uncomfortably tight around her F-cup breasts, chafing her with the bounces that accompanied every step she took and tried to shake some of the frizz out of her long, wavy black hair. These outfits showed the same nauseating tendency - they looked like oversized, tight-fitting versions of outfits befitting little girls. Clearly, it was true that this so-called military was in the thrall of perverts and pedophiles.

Then, one of the doors swung open, and Luciella's stomach lurched. Somehow, she had to hide the contempt that these people filled her with so that she could do them the mercy of properly disposing of them. After all, she might have to keep this charade up for a while - with two warships still afloat, surely the u-boat which had deployed her wouldn't be surfacing for a follow-up attack. Captain Volta seemed to be very well-regarded by the high command, surely he was no fool.

"HEY!" A voice barked at her - so sharply that Luciella reflexively saluted (which was probably for the best). Turning and dropping the booklets back in the trunk, she found herself face-to-face with a towering, freckled redheaded woman wearing a two-piece midriff-baring officer's uniform of some sort, hands on her hips. It wasn't often that Luciella encountered another woman who stood as tall as she did ( presumably without her degree of biotechnological enhancement).

"L-lieutenant?" Luciella said, hesitantly.

"That's El-tee Patricks, to you, fresh fish! What, were y' givin' yerself a perm or doing your nails in here? There was a general alarm, stupid! Why aren't you at battle stations?"

"I am... I am truly sorry. I simply did not know what to do." Luciella swallowed. "I came back here to find my papers, but someone else must have taken them by mistake... I was tending to the crew's needs, you see. I don't even know which station I was supposed to be at."

"Uuuuugh." Lt. Patricks groaned, crossing her arms. "Poor little you, right? Because you're under so much more stress than us officers, right?" She stamped her black platform boot on the metal floor with a clang. "Horseradish! Captain's depending on ME to make sure the turbines are going at full capacity. We're on evasive maneuvers... having to change course every 3 minutes. Jeez... I need a smoke, and my room was empty. There any in any of those?"

"No, I am sorry, I did not see any cigarettes." Luciella said. "My name is Lucy Washington. Oh, America, I love her so." she said through an awkward, toothy smile.

"Are you makin' fun of me?!" The Lieutenant balled her fists. "Grr... Y'know, I MIGHT have been in the mood to overlook your chickenshit attitude, Sailor. I was having a good day a few minutes ago; I was getting some good dick from a nice guy with a good sense of humor. And then, like 10 seconds before I can cum, some butch-looking little shrew of a commander came along and punished him for it... now he'll be avoiding me like I've got the clap." The redhead paused and gave Luciella a piercing stare and an angry pout. "And don't even think of tattling to McKnight about any of what I just said... I have half a mind to say that I found you stealing from other girls' personal belongings, or even that I found you hiding an illegal diaphragm while everyone was distracted. Don't worry, I'll be sure to send all the ugliest guys with the stinkiest, most crooked dicks to serve your meals in the brig."

"No!!" Luciella shouted with real alarm in her voice. Her instincts said to pounce, but there was no way that she could dispose of a body quickly enough to avoid suspicion - and a missing lieutenant, even a junior grade one, would be noticed within the hour. "

The redheaded lieutenant inspected her delicately manicured fingernails arrogantly. "Nah... that's not really punishment, is it? Even an ugly dick can get the job done, after all. I think I'll kill two birds with one stone. Lay down on the bed, there." She reached down under the hem of her glossy latex miniskirt and pulled down a thong bikini with the American flag pattern on it.

"E-excuse me, lieutenant?" Luciella couldn't hide her shock and sputtered. Kill two birds...? What did that mean? 'Kill'? Was the enemy onto her? But the meaning of those panties coming down seemed hard to misread. "You want to... you want to... you, and me?"

"Yep, consider it punishment detail." Patricks said. "Just like how my ma used to wash my mouth out with soap. Your mouth, get the picture?" She snapped her fingers and pointed - and, not knowing any way to respond that wouldn't lead to her getting herself killed one way or the other, Luciella slid her blue-clad miniskirted backside onto the hard, uncomfortable cot, keeping her legs together daintily and slowly leaning back, cupping her breasts in her hands in a way that the men on her ship had usually seemed to appreciate.

"Hey hey hey!" Lt. Patricks said as she stepped over, pulling the scrunchie off of her ponytail and tossing her red hair free. "Get those hands back down to your sides. And don't even think about putting them anywhere near your cooze; I'm not some kind of lizzie, you know. Besides, this is supposed to be punishment."

Unable to hide her surprise or suppress a glower, Luciella didn't move a step from where she was standing. Patricks snapped her fingers and pointed. "God damn, I don't have time for this. I'm getting a security detail to drag you to the brig. I can smell a thief a mile away."

"No!" Luciella raised her hands. "Please do not to this. I am... I am doing as you said." She sidled over to the cot and laid down, balling up her fists impotently. There were six different ways she could kill this arrogant American farm-sow. But none would avail her now. She had to buy time... she had learned a little of value after all, hadn't she? She now knew the name of that short-haired American officer who'd pulled her out of the ocean - who had apparently already sowed discontent among the enemy's ranks with her high-handed style.

Laying stiffer and straighter than a casualty on a stretcher, Luciella didn't move when the American redhead walked by and casually gave one of her breasts a hard smack - without even a bra for padding, the pain made her wince. Two fingers pinched the nipple and tweaked it. "Au naturale, huh?" The lieutenant said with a sneer. "Yeah, I bet it's been all easy street for you up until this point, sister. Probably figured you were just out here to help cover the role of ship's whore, that you could loaf and steal and cause trouble and all the guys would let you get away with it? They probably would, if it was up to them. Too bad for you it isn't."

Before Luciella could respond, she saw a blur of movement and Lt. Patricks was straddling her - using her marvelously engineered bosom almost like a pair of seat cushions, making sure "Lucy" got a good, long look of her crinkled pink slit before she started slowly sliding it closer. The other woman's high heels dug painfully deep into Luciella's ribcage. Patricks shifted the uncomfortable weight of her body off of Luciella's big soft pillows and leaned forward, slowly dragging her pussy up the poor lower-ranked seawoman's chin, daring Luciella to flinch away.

But she didn't. And so, with a lunge not unlike what Luciella was used to seeing Stadt fighting men do when they were suddenly forcing an intractable mouth to take their cock, Patricks' pungent pink lips buried Luciella's plump ruby ones, pressing her pubic bone so tightly up against her curvy victim's nose that she could hardly breathe. Well - that wasn't a problem for Luciella - she could hold her breath for 8 and a half minutes before she even started to feel dizzy. But the shame of it all sent shivers up and down her spine.

"Come on, don't just sit there, start licking. Back and forth." The redhead arrogantly crossed her arms as she squatted on Luciella's face. Seeing no way out, the Stadti diver began vigorously digging her tongue into the cleft of the lieutenant's pussy. It was a very... interesting taste and sensation, to say the least. Pliable, sticky, and even hotter than she'd imagined. Luciella seldom masturbated. After all, she typically had the needs of 12 male divers, all of whom had enhanced stamina just like hers, to take care of, leaving no time for such diversions if she wanted to keep her skills sharp. Usually, sheer quantity sufficed in place of subtlety, and she got off as a matter of course. But now... this was a new skill, a new battlefield... and a true elite like her owed it to her fatherland to dominate it. Her hands clenched with need but she didn't touch her own crotch, even though Patricks would never be able to see... it was a matter of pride.

She drove the tip of her tongue all the way up into the American girl's folds... and the turned it sideways, and then curled it up and wiggled it. Patricks, after dominating "Lucy" easily for the first few minutes, was caught off guard and let out an echoing yawp. Luciella felt her prey's body vibrate with sudden shudders of pleasure. Drawing her tongue out and then sliding it upwards, Luciella placed both of her lips on the very top of Patricks' cunt, and feeling a tiny hint of a protuberance there, she pursed her lips around it as if giving it a kiss and then flicked the very tip of her tongue rapidly over that pearl.

"FU- AUIIGHHHHAHHH~" Within mere minutes, Patricks (already having been stuck near her plateau for close to an hour) was emitting less coherent gurgles in response to the stabbings of the deadly Signorina Moretti's tongue than the seamen who'd felt the bite of her steel in their guts had. The American lieutenant's position astride her face went wobbly, her legs going slack as her clam gave a little squirt and her head lolled back. Luciella pushed the foolish American slut away from her onto the cot.

"...weak..." she muttered under her breath... crossing and uncrossing her legs in response to an unexpected heat she felt there. Interrogating this stupid tramp would be a waste of her time. Seeing those stupid American cartoon antics had given her an idea... she needed to get to one of the gun batteries to set things up, and then to the first radio that the Americans were able to get working again in order to set up a rendezvous before the u-boat withdrew too far and passed beyond range.

Little did she know how unjustified was this particular worry...