D.C.I. Sidney Griffin and the Missing Land Girl
Caution: This Mystery Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Historical, Mystery, Safe Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Violent, Workplace, Military,
Desc: Mystery Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The place is Hertfordshire. The time is 1940. DCI Sidney Griffin is called in to investigate the strange disappearance of a "Land Girl", a member of the Women's Land Army. A city girl working on one of the many farms in the district under the auspices of the WLA that fills the shoes of men called up for military duty. He finds hidden secrets of illicit sex, shady deals with black market operators and the shameful exploitation of well-intentioned young females by villains with no conscience.
It was only a scant two months ago that Laura Gallagher had first discovered the existence of the Woman's Land Army. She remembered reading about it in the magazine at the neighborhood beauty parlor only a short distance from her tiny apartment in London. With most of the young men already conscripted and serving in the military forces in mid-1940, things in the city had gotten a lot less exciting with regard to finding a suitable husband. Now, there was the threat of aerial bombardment added to the mix and she was beginning to regret her move into the center of the city from her parent's home in the suburbs. She was so happy to get out from under their watchful eye and not feel guilty about putting on a little lipstick and wearing the new nylon hose that caught the men's eyes. But then the unexpected happened and they were in this dreadful war that created such an imbalance of available men for the young women like herself that just wanted to have a bit of fun before settling down.
On Friday she received a little notice in her pay envelope informing her that her job on the newspaper was redundant to her. The company had adopted a policy of making all desk jobs available only for returning service members with physical problems that precluded their continued military service. She would soon be forced to accept work at one of the munition factories or even in the wards of the casualty stations with depressing reminders of the grim reality of modern day warfare. The open fields and the photos of the smiling women and muscular farmers looked so enticing that she signed up for a stint in the Woman's Land Army unit based in Hertfordshire county which was not that very far from London.
The train that she took from London dumped both she and her luggage off on the platform in Watford and within an hour almost thirty young women had gathered into a group of bewildered females wondering if they had made the right decision. A uniformed woman from some unspecified militia organization showed up and told them they would be taking the train to St. Albans for assignment to an assortment of local farms and dairy plants. They were warned that cigarette smoking was permitted only when allowed by the person in charge or the owner of the farm. Apparently, there had been a couple of incidences of unfortunate fires caused by careless matches or cigarettes dropped by "city" girl members of the WLA. Laura did not care for the way the woman distastefully slurred the word city when making the announcement.
They were all crammed inside one car of the short train to St. Albans. Most of the girls had loosened up by now and they were chattering away about the most ridiculous things notably with nothing related to the war effort. Laura regretted wearing her nylons noticing that most of the women had elected to wear slacks with sensible low heeled boots for walking on rough terrain. She quietly slipped off her dress shoes and replaced them with her running shoes that she used like clockwork each morning before breakfast. The girl sitting across from her smiled and nodded her head in agreement with her decision.
"Good idea, my recruiter told me to dress proper for the first day because the farmers kind of pick the girls on the first impression."
The girl told her that her name was Joyce and that she had decided to join the WLA because her parents had too many to feed at home and there was little chance of getting a job without the all-important training she had never bothered to secure.
She told Joyce that she was glad to get the exercise and get paid at the same time she was making a contribution to the war effort. Joyce looked at her like she was a little too eager trying to be seen as doing the right thing. In a way, Laura knew she sounded ridiculous but deep inside she did have that basic thought about the situation. Her hidden reason was the fear that she would never get to meet any interesting man in the city now because all that was left was married men with children or war-scarred men with no future and the villains that always managed to stay well hidden when push came to shove. Hopefully there might be some unmarried farmers or farmer's sons out in the country that might be caught in the net of lipstick and gartered nylons.
Laura realized she had never gone into the station to get the indoctrination speech because she was far too busy shutting down her activities in London. She had managed to get her furnishings into her father's garage with some difficulty but he was very kind to allow her to cramp his work space with her silly things. Her books were all boxed up and stored in the attic where they should be safe unless the house got hit by a bomb which, in actuality was a very possible scenario. Still, her parents were reasonably safe since they were a fair distance away from the center of town and only a stray missile would present a danger.
She read the letter from her old boyfriend Tommy who told her that he really missed her a lot. It made her a bit angry because he was less than lukewarm to her when they were courting while she was still living at home. He seemed to be more interested in playing the field with the pretty young things at the office where he worked than in paying attention to her. Now he was training on a tank crew and had been posted to North Africa to fight against General Rommel, The Desert Fox. She hoped he would be safe but had no interest in reviving her relationship with him again. Still, she knew she had to write him a friendly letter because she didn't want to be accused of being one of those "Dear John" Jezebels that fooled around behind their loved one's back.
The station at St. Albans was surprisingly deserted. Laura had expected to find an entire contingent of prospective employers waiting to divvy up the female offerings from the city. She began to think that maybe the commitment to the WLA was not a good idea after all. She stretched out on top of her bags and dozed off in the afternoon sun.
She was awakened by the sounds of shouts and movement around her.
Now the platform was crowded by little groups of muddy booted farmers trying to interview some of the females to determine if they had any skills they could possibly use. The girl that had spoken to her was already scooped up by a father and son team that ran a dairy farm. It looked like most of the girls had already been selected because they were gathering up their things and heading to the street outside to load up their luggage. There was only about a half dozen females left including Laura. She was beginning to feel like one of those losers that never get selected to the team for actually playing on the field. Her new acquaintance Joyce must have spoken to the older farmer because he came over to her and asked,
"Is all this stuff yours?
She admitted that the heap of luggage was all hers and he considered that fact for a moment. Laura knew she had probably packed far too much and it was now a burden to her employment.
"I don't have to take this box or that sack because I really don't need the contents after all."
She pushed the box of books to one side and scooted the sack of silly hats over with it. Now she only had four valises and a medium sized trunk for her dresses and undies. The farmer looked over at his son and the waiting Joyce and told her,
"I'll take the trunk and you grab a couple of those valises. My son will be helping your friend and I will have to come back to get the other two valises after we load up the truck."
She grabbed the two most important valises and followed them out to the old muddy truck that looked like a relic of World War I. Both she and Joyce were sitting on top of the things on the flat bed to cushion their bottoms against the pot-holes and the ruts in the dirt road. Joyce asked her if she had ever milked a cow and she had to admit that it was something she had never done before. She told Laura that she had lied to the farmer and told him that they both knew how to milk cows.
"It shouldn't be a problem because I have done it dozens of times at my granny's house in the country and I can show you in one easy lesson. After that, it is all practice makes perfect."
The dairy farm was at the end of a long trail that wandered back from the main road past cultivated fields that seemed well tended and active with various plantings. She wondered if it was all part of the dairy farm operation or belonged to some other farmer. There were several barns surrounding the main house which had a porch that ran all the way around three sides. It turned out that one of the barns was for all the workers. The men were billeted in the front and the females took up most of the barn area and a small additional wing in the rear. She estimated that there were at least a dozen male workers and close to twenty females employed on the farm. That answered her question about the adjoining fields. They must all belong to the single farm.
The eating arrangement was in a sort of open sided shed that held everyone at the same time on two long tables with benches that were custom made for the operation. There was close to forty souls eating dinner there including the family and the house staff. She thought it strange that the house staff and the family were eating with the WLA girls and the male laborers but figured it was probably because it was the easiest way to get the chore of eating out of the way. From the very first moment she realized that the main focus of the farm was production and the full utilization of every spare moment to improve production.
She noticed that the farmer's youngest son was making sheep's eyes at her friend Joyce and that Joyce was not exactly upset at the attention. The family that owned the farm was the Burtons and consisted of the father Mike, two sons, Sean and Colin, a daughter called Mary and a housekeeper aunt called simply Martha. Laura was not certain if her last name was Burton as well. Both Mike and his two sons were exempted from military duty because of the need for food production and most of the male workers were equally exempt for various outer reasons like breathing problems or physical problems that made them unsuited to military duties.
They found out that their quarters were more of a barracks with a row of cots from one wall to the other. Joyce fell immediately off to sleep and Laura just lay there with her mind spinning with the new surroundings. She noticed that some of the females would put a little bit of lipstick on before exiting the rear door to use the facilities and she thought that so strange that she followed one of the out the back and found the girl made a bee-line for the eating shack. The sounds of energetic coupling could be easily heard outside since there was only a half-wall of sorts. Now she knew why all the dozen or so males had big smiles on their faces when two new girls were added to the assortment of females already in residence. It was obvious the workers were interested in things other than food production in the evening hours.
Just as she was getting ready to return, she saw the unmistakable form of the farmer called Mike enter the shed after the previous pair had made their exit and that he was soon followed by the shy young girl that barely touched her food at dinner. When she peeked over the half-wall, she saw the girl bent over the long table right in front of her with Mike straddling her with his muscular squat legs. It was a sight that should have shocked her, but she found that perversely she was filled with frustration that she was only an observer.
Quietly, Laura snuck back into the sleeping barn and was sound asleep in a matter of minutes.
The sound of the crowing roosters came far too early for the beginning the work day.