Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

Auf Wiedersehen

War Fighter Tunnels
2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
30 October, 1987
0630 Hours

"What do we do?" Groom breathed into my ear, reaching into my shirt, into the cup of my bra, and pinching my already sore nipple. I flinched slightly and gave a soft moan of pain, knowing that anyone else who could hear it would mistake it for something more. "Sorry," she breathed. "Forgot."

"Sokay. Not sure. I mean, I've got an idea," I said softly, rubbing her leg.

"How long do we have to do this?" She asked me.

"Till I can think of something that might work, till we're sure whatever that is wearing Stillwater's face isn't going to suspect something and massacre all of us," I told her, moving to kiss the side of her neck. She shivered in pleasure.

"That might lead to more than you're ready for," her soft voice was challenging, daring me to push it further. That aggression that had pushed me into the military, pushed me to excel in AIT, then pushed me into Special Weapons training where I'd honed that aggression even further and harnessed it to pass through that hellscape, that aggression reared its head, demanding I call her bluff, insisting that I prove to her that I had what it took, that I was ready for anything her ass could dish out.

It made my poor abused muffin throb.

My hands wiggled under her shirt in the front and down the back of her BDU pants to cup her round ass. She wasn't wearing panties and her skin was soft and smooth under my callused hand as I slid my hand down.

"I'll need salt, and the holly berries I've got in my pocket should work," I told her. "I need the mistletoe too."

"What else?" She asked me as she leaned me back onto the bench of the table, pushing my shirt up and pulling my bra down, revealing the ringed bite marks. "God damn, Cromwell, you got big ass titties."

"Yeah, big bags of fat titty," I grinned, then pulled her down, "Blood. I abhor blood magic, but I think it's going to be necessary for something that's going to be as strong as that doppleganger," I whispered in her ear. Her hands were kneading my fat tits. "See if you can tear the scabs, get some blood flowing."

"Are you going to need more than just you?" She panted in my ear, pulling at my sore and torn nipples. It made me gasp, but there was pleasure buried in the pain. I looked up at her, nodding, sliding my hand further until the bottom of her slit. She tilted her hips and my fingertips slid into warm enveloping wet softness. "Bite my nipples, I like them bit," she said, loudly enough to be heard. She bent down against me as I pushed two fingers deeper. "This is gonna be like Aine out at Atlas last year, isn't it?" she asked softly, her voice thickened with lust.

I nodded, pushing her head down to my tits, my fingers sliding up her back, both hands moving to her breasts as I pushed her shirt up.

Thumbnails into her nipples, hard, digging into the soft flesh of her aureoles. She gasped softly right before her sharp teeth sunk into my tender bruised tits.

Whatever it was pretending to be Stillwater turned and looked when I squealed, then went back to staring at the facility readout systems when "he" saw that she just biting my nipples, pulling her head back to stretch them out.

Goddamn it, the pain was receding and I could feel that goddamn hungry feeling rising up inside of me. The same one I'd held down, kept at bay, stifled until I could get out of my shit hole home town, out of foster care, before I ended up just another girl in a trailer park with forgotten dreams. I could feel it slicken up between my thighs, make my guts clench as my body surged with lust.