Chapter 4: A Night at the Flicks

Michele was confused; she didn’t like Leading Recruit Jason Jones one bit, he was a bully but he was also handsome, strong and actually quite intelligent. She knew he had a thing for her as soon as the Leading Recruits made the grommets crossdress, and of course last night he had ejaculated in his pants when he was spanking her.

Michele was no prude, she liked having sex as a transvestite, her Uncle had taught her all sorts of tricks, and then they had learned quite a few of their own during their torrid one-year affair. Spike was only the second man she had been amorous with, but she was no virgin.

She felt Spike’s fingers caress her calf then trace the backseam of her stocking all the way up her thigh to the welt; she kissed him harder and wriggled in his lap, she loved having her legs played with. She gasped in his mouth when his fingers slid along the front of her satin panties. She was getting wet, pre-seminal fluid leaking into her knickers and she could feel Spike’s cock throbbing against her bottom.

Then a door crashed open down the passageway.

“Fuck me hookey; what the fuck is going on in with this rock show!” Petty Officer Knocker White yelled out as he clamoured along the passageway from the Duty Instructor’s cabin towards the reg office.

“Fuck!” Spike shrieked, and dropped Michele unceremoniously on her arse as he leapt to his feet.

“Fuck! Hide! Get under the desk!” Spike pointed to the foot-well under the Reg Office desk and Michele crawled into it, drawing her knees up under her chin.

She couldn’t help but see the funny side and tried to suppress a giggle.

“Oh please Michele shut the fuck up or we are all in a world of shit!” Spike begged.

“Anything for you darling,” Michele smiled up at him mischievously.

Spike raised a fist to her but he was smiling.

PO Knocker White looked like shit. His uniform was dishevelled, his hair a mess, his beard unkempt and he smelled like sweat, stale beer and rum.

“Leading Recruit Jones reporting PO,” Spike snapped to the Ho.

Knocker dropped into the chair recently vacated by Michele and put his feet on the desk.

“Sit down hookey,” He blurted out around a belch.

Spike didn’t know what smelled worse, Knocker’s breath or his rancid feet.

“Look it’s only been a few of days and I told you at the start that I wanted all the blocks and facilities checked daily but I ain’t getting the signed rounds chits,” he began.

“Your knuckleheads and the four grommets should be able to do this easy. One grommet cooks, the rest of you do your rounds, do cleanos as required, and repair any fucking thing that is broken and if you can’t fix it, log it in the defect log. How fucking hard is that?”

“Well...” Spike was about to interject and Knocker held up a hand to stop him.

“Then at dinner one of you fuckwits brings me the signed rounds chit from each block and I countersign it and you return it to the appropriate block or facility. Then I go back to watching dits, drinking piss and having the occasional wank. Tass all!”

“Should take you fuckwits half a day tops then you can go back to drinking in the wets; don’t protest, I know you have the key and I don’t give a fuck, and torturing the grommets or whatever you limp-dicks do for fun.”

“Got it?”

“Yes PO!” Spike snapped.

“Well get it done! I’m going for a shit and a dhoby. I want those rounds chits completed and in front of me when my scran is delivered tonight,” Knocker smiled, displaying a set of green-tinged teeth.

“By the way; it smells like a Wan Chai knocking shop in here; you wearing some homo aftershave of something?”

It was a rhetorical question but Spike was about to answer when Knocker lifted an arse cheek and farted long and hard releasing a miasma that smelled worse than a Wan Chai shithouse.

“If that’s not shit, it’ll do to til we get some,” Knocker chortled.

He stood up unsteadily and left the office.

“Oh my god that is foul!” Michele scrambled to her feet and darted to the corner of the office farthest from where Knocker had farted.

Spike followed her and pulled her into his arms.

“Your perfume was what he smelled,” Spike said.

“Would you rather I smelled like pussers hard and Gamlen, or a Wan Chai Kai Tai?” Michele rubbed up against him.

Pussers hard soap was used for general cleaning but some cheapskates were known to use it in the shower rather than buy their own soap and Gamlen was a commercial heavy duty cleaner widely used in the RN.

“No Michele; you smell beautiful,” he put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him and kissed her.

“And you look beautiful too,” he gazed into her eyes with genuine affection.

“Then why do you keep beating me and treating me like shit?” a look of dismay and apprehension crossed her face.

Spike’s face glowed red with guilt. He genuinely looked ashamed of himself.

Michele grinned.

“Because I’m a fucking grommet Recruit Wren who needs discipline and if you don’t keep that charade up we will both be in deep shit when the others figure out what we’re up to,” Michele said.

“What are we up to Michele?” Spike gazed into her eyes.

She pulled Spike’s face to hers and kissed him tenderly; but she didn’t answer.

“I’ve fucked up! All this bullshit getting you girls dressed as Wrens and drinking all day, we haven’t been doing proper rounds and filling in the paperwork,” Spike lamented.

“Well Leader, you have a Wren Writer who can type up your Daily Orders and get them distributed ASAP. Then I can join up with the other Wrens and we can check the blocks and bring you the rounds chits. If you get the other three Leading Recruits to help we can get back on track in no time,” Michele said.

“But I was kinda hoping to spend some time with my favourite Wren today,” Spike smiled down at her.

“Let’s get this done Jason; we have six weeks to spend time together,”

“Your right Wren Writer Nyland,” he said officiously.

“And I like it when you call me Jason,” he brushed his lips against hers and then playfully spanked her behind.

“Ok Wren Nyland, start typing!” he instructed.

They both sat down and Spike dictated the routine he wanted followed to get their maintenance and rounds routine back on track. Michele interjected here and there when she thought she had a better idea. She typed away on a Gestetner stencil fed into the typewriter. She put the finished orders onto the drum of the Gestetner copier and cranked the handle producing ten copies of Daily Orders; one each for the recruits, one for PO White and one for the file.

When Michele bent over the copier Spike tried to play with her bottom but Michele brushed his hand away.

“Later sweetheart, you know we have to get this done,” Michele admonished him.

“Ok I’m going to deliver your Daily Orders and join up with the work party to catch up on what needs to done,” Michele said buttoning her jacket and putting the documents under her arm.

“But that means I won’t see you for the rest of the day,” Spike looked petulant.

Michele stopped in front of the mirror, pulled her lipstick out of her regulation black handbag and fixed her lipstick and then brushed her hair.

“I told you we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Michele winked at him and skittered out the door.

“Fuck me I’m head over A-bracket for a Wren! A fucking transvestite Wren at that!” Spike smiled, sat down, put up his feet up and lit a cigarette remembering Michele’s soft embrace.

Michele met up with her three charges, Doris had finished in the Galley and didn’t need to be back until 1100 having prepared lunch already, all she needed to do was warm it though. Michele issued the Daily Orders and explained what needed to be done.

“If we split up into pairs we can knock this over by secure,” Michele said.

Secure was 1700, one hour before dinner.

“We could do it quicker if we weren’t dressed like fucking girls!” Doris moaned.

“I’m fucking fed up with you Doris! We have no choice so shut your bitching!” Michele snapped.

“Oh you fucking like this don’t you! You’re some sort of homo transvestite fag aren’t you!” Doris snapped back.

Michele slapped Doris across the face, much to the astonishment of Polly and Mary.

Michele looked Doris in the eye waiting for a response and got none. Doris lowered her head submissively. Michele took a deep breath and then she reached into her pockets and took out her cigarettes and lighter, lit a cigarette and exhaled. They all knew there was no smoking allowed in the blocks but no one had the temerity to tell her.

Michele pointed a manicured, red nailpolished fingernail at Doris.

“You don’t know what I’ve done to save our arses! I put myself in front of you last night when Jason was going to hit you! You don’t like being a Wren? Well tough titty! It’s the lot we all have to bear!” Michele hissed.

“Ok, I’m taking Polly; you take Mary. We do our rounds and meet back here when we’ve finished,” Michele said.

She grabbed Polly by her tie and dragged her out the cabin and then fell against the passageway bulkhead laughing, pulling Polly to her.

“Fuck! Can you believe my performance in there?” Michele cackled.

“Oh you were one super-bitch!” Polly sniggered conspiratorially.

“You know that was all bullshit; that I’m really just a sissy whimp?” Michele looked into Polly’s big brown eyes.

“Yeah I know. And you know what? You’re turning me into one as well; I really like these clothes and the stockings and the makeup and the wigs and my god I think I’ve come in me knickers half a dozen times,” Polly giggled.

“Come on Wren Perkins; let us about our duties,” Michele said being serious again.

As they burst out the end of the block and made their way over to the Nelson Division block, Polly couldn’t help herself and said out the side of her mouth.

“So when did Leading Recruit Spike Jones suddenly become Jason?” Polly chided Michele, pushing her shoulder playfully.

“Fuck off Polly,” Michele twittered.

“You be careful there Wren Nyland,” he’s taken a shine to you and he’s dangerous, Polly admonished.

“But he’s so dreamy,” Michele said sarcastically, taking Polly’s hand and rolling her eyes romantically.

They both laughed at Michele’s bad acting.