Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Size, Clergy, Prostitution, Military, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Staff Sergeant Amy Powell returns home after several years in captivity. Nothing is the same and she knows she will not fit in her old life ever again. This is the first chapter of a 12 chapter short novella about her new beginning. Very little sex or romance in the first chapter but there will be plenty in the story.
The Bio on recently discharged Staff Sergeant Amy Powell's record jacket said it all in a few short lines.
Born: February 14, 1980
Date Joined: Enlisted California National Guard 1 May 1998
Training: Medical field training (400 hrs. Graduated September 1999)
Married: June 2000 in San Louis Obispo, California
Children: Violet Powell (2001), Duncan Powell (2003)
Deployed: Afghanistan (Kandahar) January 2005 in Medical support role.
Combat Status: Declared Missing in Action February 2006 (MIA) changed to (KIA) February 2009
Summary: Sergeant Amy Powell was promoted to Staff Sergeant in late 2007 on the DOD master list. Her MIA status was resolved by change to KIA status on the basis of two separate visual reports of her demise in a burning ambulance. Both reports were deemed credible and her file was closed in February 2009. Active duty pay ceased in February 2009. All effects shipped to next of Kin, Husband Douglas Powell in Rancho Cordova, CA on 1 March 2009. (See Annex B)
020001042013Z: Routine patrol operations near the Pakistan border uncovered a large cave complex with a number of wounded Taliban fighters being patched up for further hostile action. This was in the early morning hours of 1 April 2013. Two female non-combatants were scooped up and returned to Base Alpha for further screening. It was discovered that one of the females was actually Staff Sergeant Amy Powell Serial Number xxx xx 2224 mistakenly reported as KIA in early 2009. Interrogation revealed she was taken prisoner by enemy units in 2006 and had remained under their control for almost seven years. Staff Sergeant Powell was classified in "good health" by medical personnel at Kandahar base camp. She was evacuated to the main hospital in Frankfurt, Germany on 15 June 2013. Because of the sensitivity of her capture and detention at enemy hands, outside release of her return was not authorized. She expressly stated that she did not want her next of kin notified until she was able to determine if that was in the "best interests" of her family.
FRANKFURT, GERMANY: Hospital authorities reported that she had suffered several gunshot wounds that had broken no bones and had fully healed. The 2x shoulder sites were through and through and it was decided safe to leave the round in her left calf alone since it had not moved for several years. The pinky and ring finger of her left hand missing and she has a seven inch scar that starts in the middle of her forehead and ends at the crown of her head. The single silver streak marks the route of the dull blade that caused it. Staff Sergeant Powell also suffers from severe hearing loss sustained from IED explosions and drone bombing. They classified her as 70% disabled and recommended release from active duty.
Staff Sergeant Powell was given transport on MACV flight number FRKJFK departed Hospital jurisdiction on 4 September 2013.
Field investigative report (FIR6562013) reveals husband and former NOK Douglas Powell still resides at the home of record with subject's 2 biological children Violet (12) and Duncan (10). Mr. Powell born 14 August 1969 has remarried Candy Ashland (21) on 1 February 2012. She graduated from Rancho Cordova High School in June 2011. He is the owner of La Hacienda Restaurant in nearby downtown Sacramento. Records indicate business was purchased with funds received from the sale of subject's parent's home also in Sacramento which went to her estate prior to status change to KIA. Current home's mortgage paid off with proceeds of subject's death gratuity which has been deemed unrecoverable due to error in change in MIA status. Other non-essential details indicate that the former Miss Candy Ashland was employed as babysitter to the two children during the period 2009-2012. Her father Joshua Ashland is currently Mister Powell's manager at the La Hacienda Restaurant. No negative comments regarding legal or financial issues other than eminent bankruptcy anticipated for La Hacienda Restaurant Incorporated due to competition and labor disputes.
Frankfurt Main Base Finance Office shows that the full amount of $265,000 in back pay was paid to Staff Sergeant Amy Powell's banking facility and that all future disability checks would be sent to the same banking location at the beginning amount of $2,365 per month.
THE NEW CHAPTER OF AMY'S LIFE
Amy sat in the terminal because it was too early for her connection flight to Sacramento. She knew from the investigative report that her husband Douglas had remarried after she was declared KIA. It was a burden to her in those recuperative months but now it seemed like inescapable fate to regain her life and lose her family at the same time. Her children had at first been her anchor to reality in captivity but she soon succumbed to the numbing grind of complete lack of freedom and ill treatment at her captor's hands. They did not violate her feminine sanctity because that was the way of things in their culture, but they really knew all the little tricks to wear her down to the bone with chaotic existence.
After a while she dreaded the drone strikes because they all looked at her with accusing eyes as if she was bringing them the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was certain they were looking for the dreaded "Al Queda" who were reputed to have taken to the hills deep inside Pakistan.
Her clothes were sort of just hanging on her because she had lost so much weight. The last time she stepped on a scale, she was a paltry 98 lbs. It was really strange because she had been trying her best to gain weight and it was not working. Her two children were uppermost on her mind but she did not want to do anything that would cause them irreparable harm or any traumatic damage because of her sudden and unexpected reappearance. She tried to remember what Candy Ashland looked like but was unable to place her in her memory. She slowly sipped her coffee that came from the machine in the hallway. It tasted pretty good to her but her taste buds were all still out of whack from the slop she had eaten for the last seven years.
Two Marines with no stripes between them sat in her bank of chairs and they were all filled with boasting about who did better on the rifle range. She figured they had just gotten out of basic training and their spirits were high. Amy hoped they weren't heading to Afghanistan right away and would get some more training before being dropped into that worm-hole of despair.
"How can you drink that stuff, ma am?"
Amy looked up from the floor which had focused her wandering attention.
"Ha ha it's not so bad. You should try some. I thought Marines could handle anything?"
They moved over beside her and tried to impress her with their stories of boot camp training hardships. She kept her lips mum about the rigors of being a POW for seven long years. They were nice boys and in high spirits. It felt good to see young men in high spirits once again after the mind-numbing chaos of combat and captivity. She wondered if she would ever be able to "bounce back" from the feelings of paranoia and depression that sometimes overwhelmed her when she was alone in the dark.
The oldest one of about 20 noticed her missing two fingers and asked not very politely,
"How the hell did that happen?"
Amy didn't even notice they were missing anymore and was startled at the question. So she answered truthfully,
"Some shrapnel from an RPG, they tell me."
The younger boy laughed as if she was trying to pull their leg.
The older Marine could tell right away she was being honest and told his friend,
"Cool it, Buzz. Can't you see the lady is telling the truth?"
Amy was ashamed now that she had given away the fact she was a combat vet. She didn't think it was a good idea to spread that around because people started keeping their distance as if they were expecting you to erupt like a volcano at the slightest provocation.
"My name is Private Andy. This is my buddy Buzz. We didn't mean any disrespect about your fingers. We didn't realize you were in a war zone."
"That's all right, boys. I just don't talk about it much because it bothers me sometimes. Remember to keep your heads down and don't try to catch an RPG round with your fingers."
She could see them both looking at the silver streak in her hair that ran all the way back like a skunk's stripe although not as unattractive. Before they could mouth a question, she informed them,
"Got swiped with a freaking sword when they tried to cut off my head but they were so drugged up they missed my neck by a mile."
She laughed at the memory although it didn't seem as funny at the time. Fortunately, she was bleeding so badly from the two bullets in her shoulder and the one in her calf that the added blood from her fingers and her scalp seemed like overkill. She didn't tell them that but they were effectively silenced by her revealing the source of the silver streak in her long black hair.
When the Starbucks franchise pulled up the metal grate, she offered to buy them both a cup of coffee and they followed her like two lost puppies trying to find their mom. She listened to their banter enjoying the chance to have normal conversation with other military personnel who didn't shower her with unwanted pity or less than sincere gratitude.
The flight to Sacramento was uneventful and she relaxed back into the comfortable seat taking up as little footprint as possible because her seat companion was a sweating ball of Samoan bulk that needed to buy two tickets instead of just one. Still, he was overly self-conscious due to his genetic weight problem and kept his mouth shut the entire flight allowing her to doze off and catch up on some much needed shut-eye.
The airport was completely changed.
She didn't even recognize the highway or the high-rise buildings which had never existed before. She did see some older government buildings that she recognized but that was all. It was simple to rent a spacious SUV with plenty of room in the back for her to set up camp if the need arose. She paid for a full month up-front in cash which was accepted with distain by the clerk who repeatedly reminded her that a "credit card" is really the only way to go. Things had really changed when people didn't want the bother of cold hard cash anymore.
Amy could not put it off any longer, she had to go "Home" to the house on a familiar street and see firsthand the life she had left behind. It was time to confront a husband who had accepted her death. It was time to meet a stranger who had put a girl almost 20 years younger than himself into her bed, in her bedroom, in her house, with her two children, two unrecognizable youngsters, who now called Candy... "Mom".
She sat in the SUV with the engine turned off. The windows were heavily tinted so it was difficult for anyone outside to see her sitting alone at the wheel. At one time, it might have been suspicious but no longer. SUV were commonplace, tinted windows were commonplace and they were after all in the good old US of A and not in some godforsaken third world country.
The yellow school bus pulled up and several children jumped off lost in worlds of their own. Some were chattering and some were silent. Amy had absolutely no idea which of them was her beloved Violet and Duncan. Then, she saw a boy and a girl break off from the pack and go up her old familiar driveway with a newly added basketball hoop nailed right into the studs of the attached garage. She wondered if it were the girl or the boy who liked to play basketball. Amy shed a few tears knowing that she could never be a mom to these two strangers. They had already buried her in their minds and for her to become resurrected and returned to her proper place would be a trauma almost as bad as her captivity. She had no desire to confront the silly young girl now being bounced in her old bed and as for her Douglas; it would be far too painful to ask him the simple question, "Why?"
Amy turned the key in the ignition and turned on the windshield wiper. The windshield was blurry all of a sudden. The water squirted up and the glass sparkled. She smiled at her own stupidity.
It was her tears that blurred her vision, but now she was ready for a new chapter in her life.