Chapter 3: This Is for You and This Is for Me

Villawood Montana, 1959

Sunday was usually a day of rest and Sam intended to stay inside her house and not venture out into the cold cruel world. What had occurred yesterday was bizarre and terrifying. Those men had for all intents and purposes raped her and Wendy, although Wendy seemed to be rather more than a little complicit.

Bill Brody had not been involved in the aftermath in the alley outside the Copperlode but in her mind he was the instigator because he had encouraged the others to treat her and Wendy like comfort women. He may not have actively been involved when Buddy Flintock and Victor Benning had forced them to dance and pawed at them in the bar but by just sitting there and watching he had given them tacit approval to do so.

And Dale Snitterman was no saint. Although he had not participated in the antics in the bar he had been more than just a curious onlooker.

But what of her own actions?

When Wendy had shown Sam how to dress like a lady had she not enjoyed the experience? Was she not still now wearing her rayon panties and nylon stockings in bed? Was she not still wearing makeup and perfume? Those lipstick and mascara stains on the pillow seemed to accuse her thusly.

She had protested when she was forced to dress like a woman, yes she had. But had she not been a little thrilled and elated when the men marvelled at how beautiful she looked when she entered the bar. Once she got used to it, had she not enjoyed being held closely by Victor when he danced with her?

What happened after the bar closed was not her fault or Wendy’s. But Wendy had said something: ‘Sorry Sam, I should have guessed that might happen.’ Wendy had suspected that the men might be waiting for them wanting more than just to cop a feel. Had Wendy deliberately led them into a trap? She certainly seemed to enjoy what happened in the alley.

But Samantha knew that she was trying to justify her own actions.

She had tried to fight off Victor Benning, that much was true but when her cuddled and kissed her she had responded likewise. She hadn’t been kissed for so long that it didn’t matter to her that she was in the opposite role; in fact it fuelled her desire knowing what it was like to be kissed like a woman.

And what happened after. There was no doubt that she was reviled by it but why had she ejaculated? What about that fleeting moment of power she had felt when she was on her knees sucking that big black cock? She couldn’t explain that any more than she could explain the erection now tenting the sheets as she recalled what had happened.

One thing was for sure. Things in Villawood would never be the same again. At least it only for one day. It would never happen again.

Then she heard rapping on the front door.

Sam cracked open the curtain and saw that Wendy was standing at her door. She was still wearing her blonde wig and her makeup was fresh and her hourglass figure divulged that she was wearing the full corset with inbuilt girdle under the sleeveless, strapless dress that she had been wearing yesterday. She had a purse over her shoulder and was carrying a small carrycase.

Two questions came to mind: why was she here and why was she still dressed as a woman?

Sam shuffled to the door in her stocking feet with a flannel nightgown wrapped around her. When she opened the door Wendy barged in uninvited and went straight to the little kitchen and put down the carrycase she had brought with her.

“Still wearing your makeup, wig and nylons? You should really take off your wig and makeup before you go to bed,” Wendy began to mooch in the case.

“Staff Sergeant Brody has called an extraordinary meeting in the conference room today at 10am,” Wendy began to put little bottles and tubes on the kitchen table that Sam recognised as cosmetics.

“You’re really going to stand there and not discuss what happened last night?” once again without forethought or effort Sam adopted the pose reflective of an angry woman with her hand on her hip, projecting femininity without really thinking about it.

“What would you like to discuss Sam? It happened, let it go. Once again I quote the bard: the lady doth protest too much, methinks, Wendy sniggered and continued to produce items from case.

“Make some coffee please Sam and then I’ll help you get ready,” Wendy fussed with the items on the table.

“What do you mean help me get ready?” Sam didn’t move.

“Bill has ordered that we show up enfemme,” Wendy said matter-of-factly.

“Before you start protesting he reiterated what he said yesterday. He said you tell Nurse Steele to put on that fucking suit or I’ll come over there and belt her into it,” Wendy looked coolly at Sam who had started to cry.

“Stop that Sam! It won’t do you any good. You go and shower and I’ll make the coffee; you’ll feel better after,” and amazingly Wendy was right.

Sam stripped naked and took off her wig and took a long hot shower washing away the makeup caked to her face. She brushed her teeth and considered shaving but her face was still smooth. She seldom shaved more than twice a week. She put on her terry robe and returned to the kitchen where she found Wendy sipping coffee.

Sam didn’t realise that subconsciously she was still thinking of herself in the female vernacular. It was probably because she was once again about to dress enfemme. Was she excited about doing it? Deep down she thought she was but she could justify making herself look femininely beautiful because Bill had ordered it.

“I stopped at the department store and brought a few things over you might need. Sit here and let’s see how much you learned about makeup,” Wendy had brought over a little vanity mirror and set it up the kitchen table.

Sam went about applying foundation and face power in between sips of coffee which made her feel better. She did her eyes next, fucking up the eyeliner twice before Wendy interceded and showed her how to do it properly. She rouged her cheeks and applied lipstick doing a reasonable job of it. Wendy had been brushing out her brunette bangs and she helped Sam position it just right and pin it in place.

The men had forgone cutting their hair except for Bill and Dale. Victor had the beginnings of a decent Afro and the others had hair long enough to give a drill sergeant a heart attack. It was another act of rebellion, like wearing civilian clothing, although Bill still insisted on wearing his fatigues when he was on duty.

Again, Sam was amazed at the transformation as she looked at her face in the mirror. She looked beautiful.

“I’ve brought you some stockings and panties too,” Wendy poured herself another cup of coffee and checked her watch.

She’d taken a nice jewelled Timex from the store and brought one for Sam too. The wondrous feel of silk, satin and nylon on bare flesh returned as Sam stepped into her underwear and stockings. She put on the suit and sat at the table to put on her high heels. Wendy helped her accessorise and doused her with perfume.

“Now what? I thought we were only ever going to be made to do this once?” Sam protested.

“Now we go to see what Bill has got to say,” Wendy packed up the accoutrements in her little carrycase and put the crockery in the sink.

“Let’s go,” Wendy said and Sam was pleased to see that Wendy had commandeered Bill’s jeep so they wouldn’t have to walk all the way to the Villawood town hall in high heels.

Heads turned when the men heard the click-clack of high heels on the floorboards and when Wendy and Samantha entered the conference room Buddy let out a wolf whistle and the other cheered; except for Bill Brody who stood grim-faced at the podium.

“Can the bullshit! You ladies sit over there away from the men,” Bill pointed to chairs on the opposite side of the aisle from where the men were sitting.

“Sorry to bring you in on a Sunday but after some contemplation I’ve made some amendments to the Villawood Rules & Regulations. Bill held up the binder that contained the administration instruction for the study like it was a bible and he was a preacher.

He was wearing his fatigues and had that look on his face that he was not to be fucked with.

“Henceforth Airman Samantha Steele and Petty Officer Wendy Meakins will present themselves as women at all times. They looked so convincing yesterday and everyone had such a good time that I think it will be good for morale,” Bill began and Sam and Wendy sat there dumbfounded.

“The modern armed services are embracing women to serve their nation and so will we. Samantha and Wendy will continue in their roles as nurse and company clerk when they are on duty but after work they will perform the role of comfort women,” Bill announced.

“I’m not a nurse I’m a corpsman!” Sam felt ridiculous even as she said it.

She had just been condemned to live out her life in Villawood as woman and she was complaining because Bill had misused her MOS.

The other men all cheered and Sam and Wendy looked at each other with disbelief.

“Because Sam and Wendy’s collateral duties will be to act as comfort women, they are excused all other collateral duties,” Bill continued.

Buddy, Victor and Dale shrugged their shoulders. They didn’t mind picking up the shit details if it meant they had the company of Sam and Wendy every evening.

“We’re not doing it!” Sam stood up and stamped her feet.

Bill ignored her.

“One final thing. Samantha Steele will be my personal comfort woman. You other men get to share Wendy but from what I know of her background she won’t mind,” Bill closed the folder and put it under his arm.

Wendy blushed but her head was spinning. She was a homosexual man and yes she’d had sex with men before when she was dressed in drag, especially during her time on board USS Polari but she preferred to present as a man. Then she considered the alternative. If she came onto the men as a male they would more than likely beat the shit out of her but they all liked Wendy. Let them have their fantasy; if it made life easier for her and she got to roll in the hay with those two rugged engineers it would be worth it.

Sam looked at Wendy defiantly waiting for Wendy to join her protest but Wendy just smiled at her and shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘what can we do?’

“Fuck this; I’m not doing it!” Sam sat down and folded her arms defiantly.

“You’re dismissed. I’ll see you all at the Copperlode later,” Bill said and the men filed out talking excitedly amongst themselves.

“You can go too Wendy. Feel free to suck a few dicks on the way out should you be so inclined,” Bill’s cruelty towards Wendy had not changed just because she was presenting as a woman but she was used to it and knew there was no real malice there.

“Nurse Steele you come with me to my office,” Bill said in his gravelly voice.

“Fuck you!” Sam sat with her arms crossed refusing to budge.

Bill walked over and pulled Sam to her feet and frog marched her to his office.

“Get with the program Nurse Steele,” Bill held Sam by the upper arm and shook her.

Bill had gone back to his quarters last night unable to get Sam out of his head. He kept seeing her pretty face, her body in that tight-fitting suit and those long shapely legs in sheer nylons. He’d been jealous of Victor Benning, who had spent most of the evening dancing with her; holding her tight, pawing at her. Bill wanted to be the one holding Samantha Steele close and gazing into those rapturous green eyes.

“What program Bill? This is bullshit!” Sam stamped her foot again like a spoiled child.

“I told you that I’d belt you into that suit if you refused to wear it, now I’m telling you that I’ll belt you into compliance if I have to,” Bill said angrily.

“Fuck you!” Sam said defiantly.

Bill spun Sam around and bent her over desk, holding her down while he whipped the belt out of the loops of his fatigue pants and doubled it over. Sam continued to struggle and kick while Bill hiked up her skirt exposing her derrière. And a magnificent derrière it was: her soft pink globes encased in almost transparent white nylon panties, creamy thighs above the dark bands of her stocking tops. Bill felt himself becoming hard.

Sam cursed as Bill pulled her panties down.

“Stop that! This is ridiculous!” she screamed like a baby girl.

When Bill brought the belt down on her buttocks Sam stopped struggling and started to cry. It wasn’t so much the pain, Bill hadn’t really hit her that hard, it was the indignity. Bill struck her twice more to make his point and Sam refused to cry out despite the sting of the belt. She could feel her buttocks burning and when Bill pulled her panties back up, the soft cool fabric eased her pain a little.

Bill stood back and admired his work. He had this beautiful woman bent over his desk with her skirt hiked up, her long legs sheathed in sheer hose, the backseams perfectly straight, the dark coffee-coloured bands at the top of her stockings clipped to her suspenders which poked out of those glorious white translucent panties. Her beautiful buttocks glowed pink under those full-cut gossamer panties.

The sight was wondrous to behold and Bill was unable to control himself. Sam heard him unbuttoning his flies and she started to struggle again but Bill draped his belt across her ass cheeks and she got the message: struggling would bring on the belt.

She felt Bill’s hard cock nestle in the crevice of her buttocks and he began to rub his cock on her whispy panties. She could feel the power and the heat in his manhood. She felt vulnerable and weak, her diminutive body bent over the desk, with her skirt rucked up, her ass exposed and a big burly man behind her rubbing his hard cock on her panty-clad derrière.

But she also felt something else. Her buttocks were still stinging from the belt but Bill’s cock pressing the slippery fabric of her panties into the crevice of her bottom was quite arousing and erotic. An unwanted erection grew in the front of her panties. She was mortified and glad that Bill couldn’t see it.

Bill was busy holding Sam by the hips while he dry-humped her cute little ass. It felt so good feeling the silky panties on his throbbing cock, her soft ass-cheeks caressing it while he gazed at her creamy buttocks swathed in those delicious panties, pinked by the thrashing he had given her.

Bill grunted as his orgasm approached and Sam could feel his thrusts becoming harder and faster. She gasped. His cock felt so good on her ass, his violent thrusting was causing her panties to rub on her cock and she was close to an involuntary orgasm.

She felt the scalding hot mess on her ass as Bill’s cock erupted. He gripped her tight by the hips and pushed his cock into her ass-crack and she felt his issue on her burning buttocks and her sensitive sphincter. She could smell the muskiness of it. He must not have ejaculated for some time because he continued to squirt his jism on her ass for what seemed like an eternity.

This ignited Sam’s own climax and she flooded her panties. Sam gasped and wriggled her buttocks involuntarily, it was a reflex action but Bill loved the feel of her soft ass wiggling against his steely shaft. He kept her pressed against the desk until the last of his spend dribbled from his cock then he stepped back, snatched a tissue off his desk and wiped his cock before putting it away.

Sam was bent over the desk too frightened to move. Bill put the box of Kleenex next to her face.

“Clean that mess up. Make sure you’re dressed nice this afternoon because I’m picking you up at four o’clock for drinks,” Bill pretended he was interested in some correspondence he had picked up off his desk.

“We’re going on a date? You’re insane!’ Sam laughed hysterically.

“I’m not the one dressed as girl with my skirt hiked up my ass bent over the Company Commander’s desk Sam. So who’s insane,” Bill said bitingly.

Bill’s feigned interest in the document he was holding gave Sam the opportunity to dab at the mess in the front of her panties with a Kleenex. There was no way she was going to let Bill see that she had climaxed during the ordeal. Then she took another wad of tissues and wiped her ass but her panties were saturated with semen and there wasn’t much she could do and if she was honest wanted to do. The silky garment, clammy with Bill’s cum felt very provocative and naughty as she pulled down and straightened her skirt.

“Can you at least drive me to my house so I don’t have to walk there in these heels,” Sam asked begrudgingly.

“Wendy is waiting for you downstairs in my jeep. She’s taking you shopping,” Bill said dismissively.

“You’ve thought of everything haven’t you Bill?” Sam said indignantly but it was difficult to be indignant when your panties are soaked in semen under your skirt and you secretly like the feeling.

“Be ready at four,” Bill said and turned his back on her.

Downstairs Wendy was sitting in the jeep with a shit grin on her face.

“Did he fuck you or just make you blow him?” Wendy said insolently.

“Neither,” Sam sniped as she sat down in the passenger seat, her ass squidgy with wet semen.

“He did something. You’ve got that post-coital glow,” Wendy teased.

“I’ve got a glow on my ass where he whipped me,” Sam replied indignantly.

“Was it fun?” Wendy continued to tease.

“It was demeaning,” Sam sighed.

“You’re really liking this aren’t you?” Sam turned to Wendy.

“I don’t mind it all. I get to spend all day in drag and won’t have to carry out any of those shitty little jobs any longer. The men can do those while I polish my nails,” she tittered.

“What about the indignity?” Sam spat.

“Indignity? You mean being lusted after by strong young men? You know I’m a faggot! That’s my dream. The only pain in the ass is having to keep dressing like this,” Wendy put the jeep in gear.

“I’m putting all this in my diary. When Flagg hears about this there will be hell to pay!” Sam was outraged.

“Yeah, right, Flagg,” Wendy said dismissively as they drove off to the department store.

As soon as they got there Sam made an excuse to use the ladies, snatching up a pair of panties off the shelf on the way. She shucked out of her cum-soaked panties and dried herself with handtowels and put on the clean panties. She couldn’t help but bring the cum-spattered panties to her nose and inhale the musky scent of Bill’s spunk but then she came to her senses and threw them in the trash.

Wendy was loading up a shopping cart with lingerie and Sam joined her, loading up her own cart.

“There are plenty of nylons on the rack but they’re not inexhaustible. Depending on how long this study goes on stocks might get low. Best try not to snag your stockings and make them last,” Wendy said as she threw half a dozen packets in her trolley.

“Maybe you can requisition some with the next delivery of fresh vegetables,” Sam said snarkily.

“Maybe I will,” Wendy replied smartly.

Sam loaded her trolley with lingerie, cosmetics and other feminine accoutrements then she and Wendy spent a leisurely two hours trying on different outfits. Sam quite enjoyed trying on skirts, blouses, dresses and tops and she could see that Wendy did too.

Sam decided that if she was going to be forced to live as woman then she was going to look her best. She just had to reconcile herself with the sex. Had she liked it? She had to admit that she had but she didn’t want anyone else to know.

Wendy came over and studied Sam’s face and Sam looked back a little bemused.

“Take your wig off,” Wendy said.

“What?” Sam was confused.

Wendy reached out and snatched Sam’s wig off her head and Sam was about to protest when Wendy spoke.

“You have enough hair there that I can style it into a pixie cut,” Wendy said studying Sam’s head.

“What?” Sam repeated herself.

“Put your stuff in the jeep and follow me to the hairdressers,” Wendy turned and began to push her cart towards the entrance and Sam followed.

Wendy was quite the accomplished hairdresser; she had learned the skill styling wigs and cutting hair on ships she had served on. Sam was quite taken with the pixie cut; if anything it made her look younger and emphasised her cheekbones and luscious red lips. Wendy dropped Sam off at her house and left her to her own devices.

Sam wasn’t sure how she felt about Wendy; she was a little too accepting of the circumstances and had certainly been a willing participant in the incident in the alley. Was she complicit? Had she helped Bill Brody put this scheme together or had she suggested it to him?

Sam unwrapped her packages and put her new clothes away. Sorting out all the cosmetics and laying them out on her vanity took a little while and when she had finished she admitted to herself that she quite liked doing so. Seeing all the little jars, tubes and palettes lined up under the mirror was comforting but it was also a little final. Bringing the cosmetics and clothes to her house and styling her hair meant that she was committed to living as a woman. There was sense of certainty and excitement but also dread.

She took a nap and arose with plenty of time to get ready for the evening. After showering she appraised herself in the mirror. She was petite and lithe but curvy, with a flat stomach and long legs. Her alabaster skin was unblemished and smooth. She didn’t mind that she was small-chested; her body was still feminine. Sam had been teased during basic for being so small and having a girly body and the medical corps had been a safe haven.

That was until two Airmen threatened to beat Samuel and bugger him unless he stole drugs for them. Once he had committed the first offence he had no choice but to keep stealing and when he was caught he refused to tell the investigators who he was supplying the drugs to. The Airmen had told Sam that no matter where they sent Sam they had friends who would find him and carry out the threats on their behalf.

During incarceration Sam had seen plenty of men taken against their will; some forced to be ‘prison wives’. Tiny effeminate men like herself were grist for the mill in the prison system. Only because his skills were invaluable had Sam escaped by working and living in the infirmary.

Now the wheel had turned. Sam was a prison wife for all intents and purposes. Forced to feminise herself and gratify the lust of desperate men. And what of Bill Brody? He had taken her for himself, made her off limits to the others. He had made his intent clear by what he had done to her in his office but she’d sensed a little reluctance at first. Maybe she could tame the savage beast?

Sam tucked her penis and scrotum between her legs and closed them and posed in the mirror. Except for being flat-chested she could easily pass for a woman ... a very pretty woman.

Sam put on her makeup carefully, taking her time and making a few mistakes with her eyeliner but when she’d finished she was happy with the result. It was amazing what cosmetics did to her face. Her face was delicate anyway but with the application of lipstick, foundation, powder, mascara, eyeliner and rouge it became exotic and sensual, her emerald-green eyes twinkled.

She opened the wardrobe and surveyed the clothing she had taken from department store. Where had her sense of style and appreciation of fashion come from? Sam had always admired women who dressed well but had never been tempted to don the garments himself or had she? Sam recalled playing dressup with her big sister when they were young and Sam’s father finding them and giving them a spanking.

The recollection was vivid and Sam’s sore buttocks reminded her that someone else very close to her was not averse to using the belt. She had put some lotion on her bottom and it had eased the pain but it was still a little sore. Not a burning pain, just a continual reminder that she had been naughty.

“You naughty girl,” Sam said into the mirror on the wardrobe door and then blushed with embarrassment.

Once again the sensation was indescribably delicious as she rolled her stockings up her legs and clipped them to the garters. She smoothed them and straightened the seams and marvelled that wearing such a garment could bring her so much joy. This included the delight she felt as she slipped her panties up her legs and pulled them tight around her buttocks, carefully tucking away her privates just as Wendy had trained her to do. They were red satin with black lace trim.

Sam put on the bra; it was the smallest cup in the store. Wendy had advised her to get C-cups and pad them out but Sam had decided that she would present herself as authentically as possible and decided not to pad her bra. She put on a white silk blouse and stepped into a red circle-skirt and admired the result in the mirror. She had tried on the skirt in the store but it looked even better now. She accessorised with a matching necklace and clip-on earrings made of white gold and faux rubies. She stepped into her red high heels and admired the result.

She looked less formal than she did in the severe skirt-suit she had been wearing, more bright and cheerful but still beautiful. She sprayed herself liberally with perfume just as she heard her front door open and the sound of boots on her kitchen floor.

“It’s polite to knock and wait,” Sam said to Bill Brody who was in the kitchen pouring a drink from a bottle he had brought with him.

“Want one?” Bill waved the bottle at her.

“There is to be alcohol allowed outside of the prescribed opening hours of the Copperlode bar,” Sam quoted one of Bill’s many rules back at him.

“I’m the boss so I’ll give you a dispensation,” he said handing her a glass of whisky, a cheeky grin on his face.

His fingers lingered on hers when she took it.

“You look very nice; very pretty Sam,” Bill raised his glass and took a sip.

Sam accepted the compliment but she was still a little trepidatious being alone with Bill in her home; it was very intimate and to be honest, a little weird.

Bill stepped in close and took Sam’s drink from her and put it down. He gazed into her eyes and studied her face. He was conflicted because he knew that under that womanly countenance lived Samuel Steele but Bill saw no sign of him. He saw only Samantha and that was good. He was infatuated with Samantha and Samuel had disappeared off the face of the earth.

That was the real reason he had directed that: henceforth Airman Samantha Steele and Petty Officer Wendy Meakins will present themselves as women. He could give two shits about the other men’s morale; he wanted Sam all to himself but couldn’t live with the guilt and conflict if he kept seeing Samuel around Villawood. Samuel needed to be banished.

“It’s customary for a man’s woman to greet him with a kiss,” Bill whispered.

“So I’m your woman now?” Sam searched his ice-blue eyes.

There was no doubt that Sam William Brody was a good looking man. He kept himself in good shape and he was tanned, lean and rangy, his teeth white, his breath was fresh and his sandy hair cut short in a military crew cut. Her alter ego would never consider a man as handsome, but Samantha’s brain didn’t seem to work the same as Samuel’s. She actually thought like a woman.

“You’re my comfort woman and I want comfort,” Bill pulled Sam into his arms and kissed her.

It wasn’t the same as with Victor. Bill kissed her softly; he held her close but he wasn’t stifling. Sam’s arms remained by her sides and her lips remained firmly shut. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that she felt perfectly content in his embrace. She recalled Bill’s conversation with her in the Copperlode: telling her that she thought she was hot shit, telling she was dressed like a floozy, taunting her about putting the episode in her diary (which she had by the way) and of course there was this morning’s spanking.

Bill was persistent but still tender with her, his kisses remained soft and gentle and it was hard to deny him. Sam was really enjoying being held by him, feeling the rasp of his 5 o’clock shadow on her cheeks, smelling his cologne, feeling his taunt body against her slender self, and those soft lips were delicious.

Bill broke the kiss and Sam was sad that he had done so.

“You really are a beautiful woman,” Bill sighed.

He pulled her tight and kissed her harder, more instant, pressing his tongue against her mouth.

There was the Bill she expected! The one who demanded what he wanted and expected to get it. But wasn’t she also a little delighted by that? That he wanted her so bad he was prepared to take what he wanted. Wasn’t that a little exciting? Should she be flattered? Should she berate herself for liking it? Should she berate herself for the feelings of femininity and also the feelings of power his lust for her illicited?

Bill leaned into Sam and she involuntarily put her arms around him to stay on her feet. It was instinct right? She was still getting used to wearing high heels right?

Then why was she pressing her lips against his and opening her mouth for him? Why did she greet his tongue when it slipped into her mouth with her own? Why did the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of his body make her feel a little giddy? Why was her penis distending uncomfortably along her perineum?