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Chapter 6 by fyreant fyreant

What's next?

She shoots Pearson down and gets an interesting surprise with the CO...

LtCmdr. McKnight put her hands on her hips and gave the 'salty sailor' a long, hard stare. First it had been that wise-guy who suggested that P.O. Mangano gave it to her in a way that she couldn't rightly complain about (and, in the process, assuring that the rest of the loaders would feel free to follow his example whenever she was unlucky enough to take a trip down there). Now this shrimp was trying the same thing on her, less than 10 minutes later.

If this piss-ant Pearson had been just a little less smug, Drew thought to herself, she'd have just gone along with it, let him fuck her however he pleased, and hoped that his little dick would augment her fingers in finally allowing her to come. But instead of a little less, this punk had been a lot *more* smug about it than he had to be.

It was a tricky situation to assert authority in, to the point that they had a class on it at the officer's school, taught by experienced Navy women. There was a tricky balance to be struck. An officer could rarely afford to tolerate disrespect from her command, even if it took the form of "perfectly reasonable" requests for use. Drew thought back to some of the lessons as Pearson patiently stood there, awaiting her reply. As her instructors had taught her, it was best not to outright refuse such requests, or do anything else that might give the impression of prudishness. Not only did that go against the so-called culture of fertility, but more importantly, if lower ranking men got it in their heads that it was something they could make you uncomfortable with, they were more likely to act out.

While on duty, a female officer was never obligated to submit to anything by anyone of an equal or lesser rank (unless, of course, she'd been officially assigned to 'morale-raising' duty) but off-duty was a different matter - in those times, even a civilian could do as he pleased. Just recently, in fact, Drew remembered reading about a minor scandal relating to that quirk of the Code. Apparently, a newly-promoted female Major General in the artillery corps had accepted a reporter's request for an interview about updates to blackout procedure and other matters of civil defense.

After the interview, when there was a delay waiting for Gen. Starnes staff car, the reporter had thrown the highly-ranked army woman onto the table, licked her pussy until she came and then fucked her, even encouraging the cameraman to get a picture of the General with her legs bent back so far that her booted toes were almost touching her forehead (Drew could only hope to still be that flexible by the time SHE turned 40, assuming she lived that long).

That was all perfectly fine, of course. There were actually propaganda pieces out there specifically encouraging men in the increasingly-rare non-military intellectual professions to set their sights on female Brass - the official idea was that it would help ensure the loyalty of white-collar citizens (after all, the nation simply couldn't afford for every physician, chemist, or even newsman to have to have been a soldier first), but more likely there was a carefully-hidden hint of eugenicist thinking behind distributing calenders of attractive women in uniform (with phrases like 'Not every man can be a soldier - but never forget, it's your army too!' sprinkled in) in the neat-and-tidy offices where all the eggheads and Squares could see them.

In any case, the horny reporter's mistake was not in taking the opportunity to get his hands on the 'big guns' the artillery General had been swinging around under her jacket... rather, he erred when he didn't check his surroundings at the time, nor look at the photograph too closely before he ran it. While hefting Gen. Starnes onto the table, the newsman had caused a few documents to spill out of a folder that had been left laying on the table, that turned out to contain maps of artillery batteries in the Farmland. The photograph had been at such an angle that the pictures were virtually impossible to make out - but that didn't matter. Although the Major General was reprimanded for her carelessness in handling sensitive documents, the reporter got it much worse; despite his protests that it had all been an honest mistake, he got slapped with espionage charges and sentenced to by firing squad (an appeals court later determined that sentence to be excessive, and reduced it to 30 years hard labor). ..

Drew suddenly had the urge to slap herself on the forehead as she realized her thoughts were wandering while she was still being put on the spot. One piece of advice that stood out to her was 'show you're willing to do your part without rewarding somebody for making a nuisance of himself.' That was a fancy way of saying 'fuck somebody else'. Which was all well and good - but still had a couple of problems as far as Drew was concerned. Firstly, there was no guarantee that whoever she chose would go easy on her. There had been a few times that she had gotten used by so many men in a row that she was actually sore afterwards (really, the very fact that such was a rare occurrence marked her as relatively privileged compared to all the 'Grease girls' out there), and that gorilla Mangano had been excessively rough with both his fingers and his cock.

Realizing that her two commanding officers were going to be making heavy demands on her body already, Drew decided that it would be better if she could find a source of some easier, gentler loving (if that word could still be applied to use in the modern day)... especially until she could find the time to surreptitiously craft herself a makeshift diaphragm or other easily concealable prophylactic. Thanks to the presence of privileged girls in her academy and school days, she had gotten more of an education on those facets of forbidden knowledge than most, and she wasn't shy about using them.

Slowly, LtCmdr. McKnight's eyes turned to the curvaceous woman on her staff. "Hey there - what's your name, ensign?" she asked.

The italio-american woman saluted and smiled back. "Vallee, ma'am!"

"I'll sit down at your station there. I'm going to do like Pearson suggested, but to keep things nice and clean until the captain comes through on inspection, I'll be using you instead." Without waiting for an answer Drew sidled into the swivel chair - to the visible surprise of Ensign Vallee.

But orders were orders. A few of the crew - who probably had never seen women requesting one another before - couldn't help but gasp in astonishment at the sight of the ensign's wide hips and plump ass slithering onto Drew's much smaller lap. Drew felt it was a little weird and uncomfortable. She'd never been outright used by another woman and wasn't sure she wanted to - but, she was also motivated to get a little experience like this, with her being in control, before it came to that.

"So these are the gun elevation controls..." Vallee said politely, pointing out the levers and gauges. "And right next to us there is where Ensign Peters will usually be sitting, where we're provided with wind dat-OOOH!" She couldn't help but let a sotto moan escape her lips as Drew's hands curled up under the hem of her skirt and began massaging her inner thighs. Like McKnight herself, it seemed like Vallee was a bit of a prude (that is to say, she actually wore panties). All of the men in the control room had been eyeing her but had come to a gentleman's agreement not to go at her just yet, to ensure that no vital duties were overlooked while inspection was coming.

Wanting to put on a good show of confidence, Drew slid her fingers under the cotton barrier as the woman wriggled in her lap. As a matter of fact, the voluminous, cushiony buns resting on top of her thighs felt kind of nice, actually. Was that how it felt for guys to have a girl riding their lap? Drew suddenly understood a bit better why so many guys requested that.

"Go on, Ensign." McKnight said serenely, while working her way up Vallee's ever-so-slightly plump waist to grip her 'starboard side cannon', sinking her fingers deep into the pliant tit-flesh. Voice quavering, Vallee did her best to keep going through the motions of demonstrating the fire control functions.

"Yeah, good suggestion, Pearson." Drew said smugly as she noisily thrust two fingers into Vallee's cunt, wriggling them back and forth and trying to get the sexy Ensign nice and lubricated up as a testament to her arousal. "This seat is nice and soft for the one on bottom and low enough to the ground that the girl on top can still use her controls while only having to bend down a little."

"Please, let us.... help!" One of the male lieutenants said, substituting his words at the last moment with a pained groan. LtCmdr. McKnight, feeling pleased with herself, just chuckled. "Maybe if the inspection with the captain goes well, boys..."

As it turned out, they wouldn't have long to be left in suspense, as just then the door swung open - and as she turned to look, McKnight got a couple of mild surprises..

Captain on deck?

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