Rape Camp (skittish_butterfly & littlerooster)

[littlerooster]

Nathaniel was caught up once again in his own thoughts, he was contemplating his views on women how they had changed so much since his teen years. He still liked the idea of his romantic and some would say male chauvinist views, he did believe that women should be soft, gentle and cared for, he felt that these thoughts and values were what made him so popular with women, they could feel that they would be taken of, even if just for a night with him. As the years passed though he saw and realized different things about women, how they could be just as crude and sex hungry as men, how they could be cold and manipulating. He always treated them well though, even whores and strippers were never treated as whores and strippers, and yet now, now he would be training women to be just that, to encourage them to be sexual deviates and sluts.

He wondered if Jen would in fact suck cock for her country or not.

Of course this was the big curiosity about Jen, what would happen when her love for the Army, family tradition, not letting her father down and her personal views on feminism were met with the expectation that she uses her body and sexuality as a weapon instead of her rifle. To Nathaniel it almost seemed like a time bomb.

He snapped out of his thoughts and went back to thinking about Jen as she spoke to him, he had turned her world upside down yet again, a part of him wanted to tell her everything right now, to even tell her to run, to quit and not even attend the first day at the camp. He liked her, he remembered the day Laura told him that she nearly had 2 guys at once, but they both backed out, that made him so happy, he could only see Laura as his angel and a gang bang angel just wasn't going to work for him, it would have destroyed him if she had of told him she went through with it, he realized his views on Laura were quite fucked up to say the least and yet he always loved her, more than he loved himself, and again he realized his mind had drifted.

He heard the jokes she was making about the counselling, about whether or not she was doing well, it upset him a little, she still didn't get any of it. Didn't understand that this was going to be more like Debbie does Dallas than Calamity Jane.

Then finally she started admitting some real feelings and emotions. Finally he would see the something of the real her.

He stopped and looked at her deeply and seriously.

"Jen, you need to just be yourself with me. You won't screw anything up unless you try to hard and the ironic thing is you don't even know what you are trying hard at, you are just pissing in the wind hoping that something you say will impress me and really all you need to do is be yourself and be genuine and tell me how you feel about stuff. I believe you are worthy for WASP training Jen, you are very worthy but here is the thing, is WASP worthy for you? You don't know anything about it yet, I keep trying to give you hints and yet you are so keen to try and impress me I feel it falls on deaf ears" he said pinching her ears in a cute manner.

"The thing is, WASP will be like nothing you have ever experienced in the military and probably like nothing you have experienced in life, this is why I am your counselor, I am not the only one in the camp either, there will be a few others, one of my friends is also spending some pre camp time with a candidate, yes this is staged, not all candidates are getting the pre camp treatment, just the ones marked as potential leaders, it is part of your evaluation, I shouldn't say that but then again, I think you have worked it out, there is no reason why we couldn't have already been in the camp, but as this is all brand new they want a lot of discussions and observations" he paused to let it all sink in.

"So, how about we make a deal ok, you stop pretending to be super soldier and I will talk to you a little more so you don't feel so uneasy ok, and tonight when we go back to the room we can have an off the record analysis session, we can talk about stuff, you can answer some questions ok, I am new to this as well, I am nervous too believe it or not" he said to her honestly.

He then smiled at her, "Come on lets go search for some high heels and get those tickets" and started walking off in search of sexy shoes for the Private.

He had let out some more information, wanted her to start thinking some more about how different this really was, maybe now she would. His friend Sergeant Marcus Crossley was in Los Angeles with another candidate PFC Miranda Brady, a woman who joined the military at 17 in preference for serving time for prostitution, she was half Hispanic half English, dark hair and blue eyes, she had done well in the army, army discipline being nothing compared to life on the streets and an abusive pimp, she jumped at the chance of WASP training when it was offered to her, she like Jen had no idea of the true nature of it and of course had no idea that she was chosen due to herself being a whore. Miranda now was 23 just like Jen, and just like Jen, Miranda also wanted to succeed in the Army.

Nathaniel had exchanged some emails with Marcus, Marcus was already fucking Miranda, of course this was to be expected, Miranda got what she wanted by giving her pussy, she was the total opposite of Jen in every way, except one, they were both beautiful.

Just like the women were hand picked, so were the male trainers who were to double as counselors, all with psych backgrounds, some with a darkness about them others like Nathaniel who were masculine and yet had a sensitivity about them, deep thinkers who felt a heavy toll having to live in a cold and thoughtless world.

Nathaniel and Jen walked on down the street until seeing a shoe shop, "Lets try in here first" he said to her, leading her into the shop, more frilly furniture and seductive colours.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

When she'd started her little speech with the Sergeant, she'd been almost joking, probing for some angle that might get some sort of hint from him how she could make a good impression, instead of seeming to disappoint him more the more she tried to impress him. But the tack she'd taken had drifted a little out of control, and the embarrassed color in her cheeks about the real feelings she'd briefly started to share with him was no joke. She had only entered the emotional minefield of her own feelings thinking to give him some simulated, silly idea of how boring and maddening it would be for him to listen to all those *other* women babble to him from their pink, estrogen laden clouds of emotion all day -- especially if they were as soft and delicate as a lot of their photos made them appear. That she only came off sounding just like one of them rather than the competent daughter of a Marine-for-life, oozing weepy anxieties about low self-esteem and traces of jealousy where the Sarge's dead girlfriend were concerned, as if the Sarge was Jerry Springer or Dr. Phil rather than a trained soldier, left Jen aghast at herself, sure she'd probably just driven the final nail in her own coffin as far as earning the Sergeant's approval as a WASP candidate was concerned.

Jen's embarrassment shortened her stride, as if the confidence to match the Sarge stride for stride as a peer abandoned her, like she expected his disapproval, or a silent internal disdain for her exposed weaknesses. Her mind played through the fear to its fullest, dropping out of the program before it even started, with her appointed counselor already convinced she was to weak or emotional for what he'd been clear was a challenging, rigorous training program. Her steps slowed even more, her heart heavy with the thought of how disappointed her dad was going to be, how ashamed she was going to feel to retreat back to her office job back at the base and face him again as a failure rather than a commando, all because she'd let her feelings leak out all over the place like some menstrual high school girl with an unrequited crush rather than an educated, determined young woman ready to meet absolutely any challenge.

But the Sergeant slowed too, turning to her with a look that was anything but disappointed. His words made him sound pleased rather than put off, and each little encouragement from him put a little air back in the deflated balloon of her heart.

Just be herself? That's what he wanted? His words made it clear he knew perfectly well how hard she'd been trying to impress him, which was embarrassing all on its own, but just be genuine and share with him all her useless anxieties and the overwhelming worries that betrayed weakness of will? It sounded like a recipe for disaster in a special forces candidate, and yet accidentally having tried it had the Sarge talking about her being worthy of the program, maybe even worried the program might not be good for someone like her. Just be herself? It sounded like orientation day at University, part of the we're-all-winners crap she'd totally ignored on her way to actual victory, the soft mentality that told the other students all of their overwrought, self-absorbed feelings were valid and worth just as much as actual, say, studying. But that's what the Sergeant wanted?

He pinched her ears like a pleased big brother, or like some of the guys back in school when she'd first blossomed physically, trying to get her attention any way they could think of. She looked up at him, the color not leaving her cheeks as he went on, getting real about the program with her in a way that gave her hope he really cared about her success, or maybe cared about her more than her success, as if he was almost worried the price of success would be more than he wanted to see her pay. But wasn't that price her choice? It was her own determination and ability what would let her pay the price at a discount, succeed where others would fail, but the Sarge had no way of knowing that if her biggest qualifications for the program had been a picture and a diploma. He was only now just getting to know her.

And she was marked for leadership, he came out and said it. At least potentially, and that was good enough to lift her flagging spirits too. Which was what made her feelings somehow even more important to him, as if the chain of command in special forces, from Sergeant to platoon leader, needed to be based on a real connection, even the weepy silly stuff out in the open so there were no surprises out in the field.

The Sergeant paused, and Jen's own steps came to a halt beside him as she tried to let it all sink in. He offered a deal, for her to change how she'd been going about trying to impress him. No more tough talk, just real talk, that's what he wanted, and the return would be more feedback, more clarity on what she was headed for. Jen smiled, the deal feeling like a godsend, even if she'd only achieved it accidentally. She wasn't sure how good she would be at being all open and sharing about her deepest feelings and all that, but if she could learn to field strip her weapon in a blindfold with a much harsher Sergeant yelling in her ear about rockets and dying soldiers, she could dredge up a few more anxieties and emotional injuries to share with him.

Jen smiled brightly, ignoring how awkward and exposed she felt, her thoughts all on the prize she'd won, a sense of cooperation and partnership with her Sergeant and counselor, the promise that success in the program was achievable if she just followed a different path. She'd spent her life preparing to follow orders, to be part of something bigger than herself, to take a path less traveled for the good of her country and the pride of her father. This was no different. Jen nodded, "You've got a deal Sergeant!" She furrowed her brow briefly and then looked back up at him. "You don't want to know how I feel about the deal, now too? I mean, am I supposed to blab every thought that flits through my head like some hormonal housewife the moment her husband gets home?" She thought of her mom. "Or just the big stuff?"

He just smiled at her, "Come on lets go search for some high heels and get those tickets." That was enough answer for her and she fell in happily beside him as they walked on down the street passing a couple shops until the Sergeant found just what he wanted, and she followed him in. Of course it wasn't a discount shoe chain or a gleaming place filled with sports shoes and hiking boots, but a pink place filled with frilly furniture and pastels everywhere. Jen sighed, but let go of it. Don't be the super soldier, she thought to herself. She tried to remember ever having owned Barbies, sure her mom must have bought them for her, trying to find whatever part of her might have secretly played a little dressup when the tomboy part had finally come home from a day climbing trees and outracing boys.

Jen made an effort, and walked up to the pretty woman at the counter. Somehow, this time, Jen wasn't cowed by the other woman's beauty, or jealous of it -- which she had to admit was how she'd been feeling the whole time with the Sarge. She didn't think it was any sort of simple crush, but what did it feel like to be trying so hard to impress a man, after all. Jen thought she'd probably just confused herself inside with all that overeager effort, convinced her emotions that other women were a threat to the man she was trying to impress for herself. The fact she was trying to impress him to get into his program rather than his bed seemed irrelevant to the feminine instincts she'd accidentally woken up, and she was glad she saw everything clearly now,so she could shop for high heels rationally, rather than seething at someone she perceived as a threat,without even realizing it.

"Hi, I'm Jen, this is..." She turned to the Sarge and thought for a minute. His name was Sarge. The Sergeant. Sir to her in a few days. What was... "Nathaniel." Nate? Nat? No, he was a Nathaniel Jen decided. "We like to look at some high heels... I'd like to I mean, but I want... I want him of course to, you know..." Feelings, crap did she hate them, especially when they leaked out of her all over the place, running hot all over her face. She turned to the Sarge. "I just think, why not pick something you'd like too, since you're here after all."

Jen turned back to the saleslady, who smiled knowingly, even though she knew nothing. The woman took Jen by the elbow, and Jen realized this was on her, having to choose her own heels, not just toss her mom's selections into the back of her closet never to be worn, but decide on a pair she actually wanted. The woman winked at her. "Don't worry... Jen, I'm Paulina and we'll find you something just perfect, something to show off your legs, so your boyfriend won't be able to take his eyes off you, am I right?"

Even though her cheeks colored a little bit yet again, Jen just nodded and threw a quick glance at the Sergeant, but he seemed to be following along, listening, like he was evaluating even how she shopped for shoes. Jen turned back to the lady and didn't correct her misimpressions. It didn't matter what she thought, and maybe the two of them did look like a couple, what was wrong with that?

"Thanks Paulina, that will be... that will be just super." Jen was suddenly intensely aware of the frilly panties she was still wearing, and the fabric of her cammies against her smooth legs, the thought of the Sergeant's eyes unable to look away. Those mistakenly awakened feminine instincts needed a bedtime story to put them back to sleep, clearly. Paulina asked what she wanted, and Jen drew a long slow breath. That was the hard part. She knew next to nothing about shoes, about outfits, about color coordination. The information was in her head, her mom had showed her blabbed on about that stuff endlessly so she knew the ideas, but as disconnected useless facts she held in disdain, not useful ideas she was able to put together to describe a shoe she actually wanted.

What did she want? Jen flashed back to the room, dressed in the beautiful lingerie in front of the mirror, how pretty she'd looked. The Sergeant wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her. Would he? But she remembered how she'd thought the lines of her legs would be just perfect with a pair of high heels. She did want something. She wanted heels that would be perfect with the lingerie.

After a quick glance at the floor as her courage fluttered in her heart, Jen turned to the woman. "Well, I'm not exactly looking for something... business-like, you know? Something a little more... bedroomy?" Jen blushed as the saleswoman giggled in a sisterly way that was probably just a sales ploy to make Jen think they were bonding over the chore of finding shoes that would make it impossible for the Sergeant to look away from her. It was working. Paulina wanted her to be more specific but that just made it worse for Jen. Specific?

"I think I want heels that are really high, thin, like spikes, not heavy cloggy things." Paulina nodded as if this was the most obvious thing in the world and she should get to the point. "What I mean is, they're, uh, I want them to look good with... not a dress or even a short skirt." Jen looked at Paulina but Paulina seemed to be waiting for her to spell it out. "I want heels that will look perfect with lingerie."

Paulina smiled and started walking further back through the little shop, and with each step the displayed heels looked a little higher to Jen, a little sluttier. "Of course you do. But tell me about the lingerie so we can find just the right shoe to... do the trick." Paulina smiled at the Sarge behind her. "You're a lucky girl, what a catch." Paulina's voice was low enough Jen wasn't sure if the Sarge could hear, but Jen just decided to play along, easier and no more embarrassing than the alternative of hemming and hawing and trying to explain why she was buying slutty heels with her Sergeant.

"Yes, for sure, thanks. The lingerie is..." Jen was at a loss for words to describe how she'd looked in the mirror, let alone convey enough that an exactly perfect shoe could be selected based on her description. Finally she gave up and glanced back quickly at the Sergeant and then moved in closer to Paulina, taking out her cellphone but keeping it shielded from the Sarge with her body. She called up some pictures she'd snapped of herself, the last set, with everything on, when she'd actually felt she looked pretty, when the heels had seemed like such a good idea. "Like this." She looked up at Paulina who was looking at her phone, her finger flipping back and forth between a side view and the front view.

Paulina looked at her with a smile. "Well, I can see Nathaniel is going to be a lucky guy tonight too." It was a little challenging but Jen just kept her mouth shut and smiled, playing the part she'd unwittingly committed herself to. She shoved her phone back in her pants pocket. "But I've got just the thing. Open toed. Black, classic, about a 5 inch heel -- you're comfortable at 5 inches? No matter, you're not going on a hike, am I right?" Paulina giggled and touched a few shoes. "You're going to want straps at the ankles, gold buckles not silver. Let's see..."

Paulina picked up a shoe and Jen nodded. It was intimidating a little, the heel so high, but if she could run an obstacle course in the mud, she could walk in that. "I like it."

A quick glance at the shoes she had on and Paulina frowned. "You're a, what, an 8? A 9?"

The way Paulina said it, Jen realized her boots must make her feet look like clown feet. Strangely defensive, she said, "No, a 7." What did a shoe size matter?

A box was pulled out and Paulina showed her to a loveseat where Jen took the left seat and, after slipping out of her boots and socks, Jen began fumbling around a bit, trying to slip her feet into the high black heels, working at the buckles, hoping the Sergeant would talk to Paulina and not notice how she was fumbling like she'd never worn heels before, which was nearly true. "Don't forget to walk in them, dear, make sure they're... well, if not comfortable, at least livable. The things we put up with for our men, am I right?" Paulina laughed again and looked at the Sergeant and back to Jen.

Jen looked back at her and then down at the shoes on her feet, under the cammies, looking so wrong. She was sure she'd fall if she tried to walk in them here, sure they would look horrible, especially in her super soldier outfit, not the lingerie. She didn't want the Sarge to see her like this and just sat in them. "I... when I wear them tonight I want it to be a surprise for the Sar... for Nathaniel... I'd... why don't we just pack them up and I'll... wear them tonight." Playing the part, solve her problem, avoid one embarrassment with another. But if she told the Sergeant she was embarrassed after they left, told him why she didn't want to walk around in them, would that just make it worse? Or would that be exactly the right thing to say to him? She resolved to at least try to talk about it with him.

 

[littlerooster]

Nathaniel thought back to his initial brief with Colonel Louise Sanders in regards to PFC Geller, the Colonel had advised him that of all the candidates Geller would perhaps be the most challenging, her military upbringing, a strict father she was keen to impress and a mother who was by all accounts the typical housewife who put everyone else's needs ahead of her own, it was not a strong female presence that Geller's life was built around but a male one. Jen felt or at least wanted to be one of the boys, to be female or feminine was not something to aspire to for Jen, male life, male structure and goals was what appealed to Jen, hence her joining the army to follow in her father's boot steps.

It was this traditional lifestyle that would make it hard for Jen, many of the other candidates were less traditional types, all military but for different reasons, many to work their way through college, some because they lacked college and saw it as a way of securing a job, they were happy to go with the flow and see what happened, the Colonel was quite happy that many would leave within the first couple of weeks, perhaps 50 would not even be left by the end of the training.

Nathaniel was chosen as Geller's guide throughout this ordeal, he was sensitive and wrote poetry, yet he was a killer, a man who had seen combat and slain the enemy, he was aware of his feminine side and did not feel embarrassed by it. It was these factors that made him the right man to guide and counsel Geller, he could understand her better than she could understand herself at times, he had the patience that even other women lacked, especially military women who became quite pragmatic, either by some choice or need, or perhaps because they felt that was the way they had to be to compete with the men.

The men oddly enough were very down to earth and laid back, they didn't have to prove anything. Well most of them didn't, there was the occasional wanker who would try and lead their men into risky situations without any care for the lives they were in charge, leading them into danger and death simply because it might mean a medal or a promotion. Nathaniel and his buddy Crossley had taken care of one officer in Afghanistan who did just that, Captain Julio Vega, a medal and promotion hunting officer, time and time again Vega had led them into ambushes and called in airstrikes way too close to their own positions, they tried talking to Vega but he ignored them, not wanting to hear the voices of reason. The result? One day they went out on patrol and Capt Julio Vega never returned, shot by an AK-47, the weapon of choice of the enemy, fired by Nathaniel himself, the rest of the platoon agreeing it was the only way to stay alive, Vega had engaged the platoon in so many fire fights and close calls that the top brass never even investigated, it seemed obvious, Vega's risk taking had taken it's toll and his time was up. Simple.

Nathaniel was rather pragmatic himself about most things, he had a lot of time for people though, even if he didn't socialize with them or anything of that nature he was always happy to listen to a comrade who was down or needed assistance, even before the military females in particular would open up to him, he had heard rape stories, period pain stories, pregnancy scares, topics that women normally don't like to talk to men about. But they spoke to Nathaniel, he listened, quite often only listened because he didn't know what to say, or what to do. It was due to this that he started investigating psychology and counselling, if people were going to open up to him then he wanted to help them.

On the flip side Nathaniel himself was rather quiet and insulated, he dealt with shit on his own, he felt this was how men should be, he learnt about being a man from watching John Wayne and Clint Eastwood films. Two rather different types of characters but with a few things in common, neither spoke very much, when they did though, people listened and they were always willing to help those in need or those who were perhaps weaker than themselves.

He struggled with that as well, some people were weaker than him. He had been called strong on more than one occasion. He thought about Laura's hippy trippy friend who he did some Reiki sessions with, she would always tell him that he was a very strong individual, he never really thought about it before, it made sense though, he never got upset over trivial things like some people did, falling apart over bullshit. It sickened him.

When Laura had died he was shattered, his life literally losing meaning and all joy. People at the funeral tried to console him, he wanted to punch them out, it was all he wanted to do, it was about escaping for him which is exactly what he did, he left as soon as it was over, her grave site being just that, a place where her body would rest but not a place where "she" was. He never understood that, people returning to grave sites to talk to their loved ones, their spirits long departed, you could talk to them anywhere. If such a thing existed as death having a bright side than that was it, being able to talk to your departed loved one no matter where you are, no matter what was happening.

He spoke to Laura a great deal in the months following her death, she was like an angel to him, he met other women and felt her permission to be with them, Laura always being quite sexual herself, he didn't go any further than dates for a while, just trying to find again the magic that had died with Laura, mostly he found very little, sometimes he wasn't even listening to what they said to him over the expensive dinners, just a noise coming from them, he would nod a long and hope they didn't just ask him some question.

Geller had taken what he said to her well, he was trying and wanting to help her, she had to allow herself to be broken down so that she could be built back up again. She had to re learn not just what being a soldier was but what being a woman was, or maybe she had to learn about being a woman. A dangerous sexy woman who would seduce and kill, he wondered if Jen would like that part, he smirked a little at the thought of it. He liked Jen. He liked her more now that she was starting to relax, starting to maybe show more of her real personality, he didn't want her to be a clone, didn't want her to go in playing GI Jane and feeling distraught at what was really expected of her.

He had the authority to give her some insights into the course, the training but not divulge details, he would play a game with her tonight, a trade off, for every 3 questions she answered honestly she could ask 1 in return about the course, he would let her know that he would only answer in ways that he could. He hoped this would build up some trust between them. He felt that the bridge of trust was already getting stronger.

He watched her in the shop, he liked quite a few shoes in there but wanted Jen to pick a pair herself, she would start learning now he thought. The sales lady approached and assumed quite fairly that they were a couple, he stood by expecting hurricane Jen to start up but she was cool with it and just went a long, good girl he thought, there was no reason to explain anything anyway, what did it matter. Paulina the sales lady took Jen and whisked her away to show her shoes, Nathaniel after being introduced stood back and let her have space, not wanting to get too involved in the whole process and wanting to observe the new Jen anyway.

They chatted away and he overheard some of the discussion, she wanted shoes to match her lingerie, good, some comments about him being really good looking and lucky, and that she is lucky as well, then Jen got out her mobile phone, Nathaniel couldn't see what was on the screen but knew it was the self photos that she had snapped of herself earlier in the lingerie, she wanted to get it right and bowed to Paulina who was more knowledgeable on that subject than she was. Another step forward after the stand off he had witnessed in the lingerie store where he thought if she had one she was going to bayonet the poor lady who was just trying to assist and do her job.

She wanted spiky type heels, a good choice he thought, he hated clunky type shoes the ones favored for some reason by strippers, he thought they looked like bricks on women's feet and interrupted the line of the ladies calf muscle. The stupid stuff some women wore because they thought it was sexy he thought to himself.

He saw she wasn't comfortable trying them on in the store, not wanting to look silly wearing them with her cammies but also because she probably wanted to practice wearing them in private first, she probably needed to get used to walking in heels, he wondered when the last time she wore heels was and what the occasion was.

She looked finished and he went up and paid for them, he saw a nice pair of high heeled boots as well that would have gone to just under her knee, he decided not to push his luck though and just looked at them long enough for Geller to notice. He paid for the new heels on the army credit card and they left the store.

"Nice choice of shoes, I like them, maybe you will wear them for me?" he asked, he wanted to push her boundaries a little, make her feel that she was desired in some way, he hoped she would model them, maybe with the lingerie on, she would have to do a lot more once the training started, she may as well start now, he thought to himself, he wouldn't push it to nudity just the lingerie. He planted the seed anyway, he would see what would happen.

"Tonight when we do our counselling session to get you used to things, for every 3 questions you answer honestly, I will allow you to ask 1 question regarding WASP training and I will answer as fully as my brief allows me to ok?" he said to her, he felt that perhaps he had been too subtle up to now with Geller and wanted to really push her a little more, they would be heading off on the train tomorrow, he wanted her to be as prepared as possible.

"Oh and you don't get to ask why I am asking you stuff either" he said nudging her, knowing she would question the sexual nature of his inquires.

"Let's go get our tickets and then we can decide on what we do after that ok?" he said as he led her down the street, passing the lingerie shop they visited and found the train station, he purchased their tickets and just as with her room key he kept them both and they stood outside for a little, some guys passed and looked Jen up and down.

She was attractive no doubt about it, but she didn't exploit it, he looked at her and imagined what she might look like if she did exploit it, if she did make some effort to her appearance outside of the basic grooming that most people employ. He found herself looking her up and down and averted his eyes when he noticed she caught him. A bit of an accident getting caught but could be quite useful all the same he thought.

"What would you like to do now Geller, it's only 1pm" he asked her wondering how else they could spend their time together.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen bent down and undid the straps, slipping the heels off her feet. She held the first in her hand for a moment, eying it with slight disbelief that she was actually buying something so pretty and useless, actually choosing it for herself. She could almost feel her mom looking down at her with that "I told you so" smirk on her face. Mom had tried to get her to wear them, to practice, to learn to walk like a lady because "you never know." But Jen had followed her dad, combat boots and time at the firing range rather than lovely heels, so now she slipped them off and boxed them up for purchase, certain she would have made a clumsy fool of herself if she'd tried to walk in them here, and not altogether sure she would do any better if she actually tried to wear them later. But at least she could experiment a little in private first back in the room.

The Sergeant took the box from her with a smile and paid for them with the credit card while Jen slipped back into her socks and re-laced her boots, stretching out her bare feet just for a second after conforming them to the shoes' contours even so briefly.

Jen rose and watched the Sergeant finish paying. She saw the little look he gave a pair of boots, the heels nearly as high as the shoes she'd purchased, but the boots more notable for how they must practically swallow up a woman's entire lower leg to the knee. His look seemed like more than passing curiosity, and Jen couldn't help wondering if Laura had worn something similar. As Jen waited for the Sergeant to complete the credit card ritual, Jen approached the pair of boots, curious fingers lightly stroking the soft material, high end leather she suspected without being certain. The price tag would say, and she picked up the boot to turn the tag over, and then she whistled. Definitely not Naugahyde.

Pauline was smiling at her as Jen set the expensive boot back down. The credit card transaction complete, Jen took the bag with her shoes from the saleswoman and turned to leave with the Sergeant just in front of her holding the door for her. Pauline called out to her, though, "The boots are on sale, half-price just this week, so if he likes what you bought already, you really *have* to come back. You can borrow the card and tell him later, I guarantee he'll understand." Pauline winked at her and Jen smiled back with a little laugh. The woman was likeable, maybe simply because she was bothering to sell to Jen, rather than straight to the Sergeant.

"I'll think about it," she tossed back lightly over her shoulder as she passed the Sergeant, clumping out of the store in her heavy boots. Jen was glad this bag didn't have anything more embarrassing than the name of a shoestore written on it as she swung it happily beside her, starting to walk slowly down the street so the Sergeant could catch up.

She turned to look at him and found herself smiling as he complimented her selection, as if it were an actual accomplishment, which was oddly exactly how it felt to Jen at the moment, some strange new threshold she'd passed through without having intended to. "I'm glad you like them Sarge. I guess I could model them for you later, if you're good." Something in her mood felt lighter, freer, as if letting go and just being herself around him made all the difference, and even her incredibly uncharacteristic flirty tone only made her blush a little.

The two of them didn't so much walk along the street as stroll together. Jen turned her head to look at him as he proposed a training exercise for that evening, some sort of 3-for-1 question exchange. Jen thought about it briefly after he clarified the limitations of his security clearance and such, that he couldn't answer absolutely everything, obviously, but the offer was incredibly tempting nonetheless. "Well," she started, "the 3 to 1 ratio doesn't sound totally fair to me, but I guess you're the Sergeant and it is for training, so... sure, I'm game." Why did she feel like she'd just agreed to one of those games of truth or dare, or spin the bottle she'd always opted out of in high school, studying while friends giggled in the next room over?

Jen could feel something felt different inside her. Guys always looked at her. She was used to it, basically ignored it and that was enough to make 90% of it go away with her scarcely even having to notice it. This was different though. Guys were looking at her, but with more eye contact. Sure, she was aware of eyes drifting, trying as always to guess at exactly what she might look like without her heavy cammies on, but it was less surreptitious. It was like they were actually interested and not just ogling her, like something in her expression, the way she held her body as she was walking, was sending them a different message than her usual, as if they thought she might be interested too.

She smiled to herself, mostly ignoring it, only returning a smile to a few guys as just a little experiment, but mostly she smiled to the Sergeant, which was enough to keep any guys from actually approaching her.

Sarge led her back to the train station, and Jen couldn't help paying attention to the fact he wasn't peeking in at the lingerie shop of the restaurant from the previous day, as if Jen was enough to hold his attention for the moment at least, and he didn't need a waitress to amuse him.

Jen stood at his side as he bought the two tickets. Once the tickets printed out of the little machine beside the window, he took them both and stowed them away in his wallet. She thought about asking to hold her own, to take responsibility for it, but he had bigger pockets, a wallet with him, and she was carrying her new heels. Jen let it go and followed him out.

She looked at herself in a big store window they passed, the big Sergeant beside her. It made sense they'd picked her. She had her mother's bone structure, her figure, and her father's fitness and determination. Looking at the two of them reflected in the window, Jen thought she fit in the picture, not out of place next to a special forces guy like the Sergeant, but in her own way.

The Sergeant stopped and asked her what she wanted to do and Jen pulled up, suddenly baffled by the choice. Unexpectedly, more than thoughts of shooting ranges, what tickled at her mind more now was the idea of exploring the issue of learning to be open, to be herself, to learn to interact with men like the Sergeant and maybe be a leader in her own right if she managed to pass the program.

She decided to start immediately. "Well, I know I came off like a super soldier yesterday, nothing but target practice and cross country runs -- and I definitely can do that stuff. But I was trying too hard. I just wanted to impress you. I'm used to finishing first in everything, taking home the prize, and I was trying to make a good first impression for the training. But that just feels silly to me at the moment. What I really want to do I think is spend a little more time getting to know you, and learning how to 'just be myself' like you said -- it feels weird to me, but I'm kind of enjoying it.

"First though, I'm really starving and so if you haven't ruined that credit card of yours yet, maybe you could buy me lunch and then maybe we could find a park to take a walk in or take a stroll by the lake I saw on the sign. And after that, maybe we could order some dinner up to the room and I could work on figuring out how to wear these things."

Jen giggled a little, embarrassed, but finding the idea of just telling him rather than trying to hide it to be liberating. "I don't really have a lot of experience with this stuff so I was afraid of falling on my face in the store if I tried to walk in them, but they really are so pretty, and so perfect for the lingerie we bought that I really wanted to try them anyway. Hopefully I can figure it out, with a little time to practice." Usually, when Jen set her mind to something and practiced a little she came out on top, and expected a pair of heels wouldn't be any different.

 

[littlerooster]

Pauline the sales assistant advised Jen that the boots were on sale, Nathaniel laughed a little as she did so, they probably weren't on sale at all, she just saw a customer with a business charge card and thought she could take advantage of the opportunity, fair enough he thought but he decided to wait anyway, maybe they could be a treat before leaving for the camp.

He was impressed with Jen's new behavior she was accepting of his advice, he didn't feel like he criticized her as such it was more like advice he reassured himself, more like wanting her to succeed. And he did want her to succeed even though what she thought the camp was and what it really was were completely different things.

He complimented her on her choice of shoes and she mentioned perhaps that she could model them for him later - if he was good. It was a flirty comment, good girl he thought, keep it up. This is what was needed, not some faux macho act.

She agreed to the 3:1 question game as well, he wanted to make it 1:1 but she had to get used to unfairness, she had to get used to doing things that she didn't really want to do and he thought the 3:1 was a good way of doing this and still making her think a little about what might be ahead for her.

He demeanor was attracting the attention of men, Nathaniel could see men looking at her more now, trying to work out if they were a couple or not. He stared a few down here and there not wanting her to get too uncomfortable, wanting her to know that she was safe around him. He noticed that she smiled at him a lot more too, perhaps because she was feeling freer but also to keep the guys away.

He decided to stop flirting with other women now, to focus on Jen totally, he wanted her to feel more confident, he felt weird about seeing his attention as a reward but it was just that, his whole attention in return for her loosening up, it would work of course, women liked attention, simple mathematics.

He bought the tickets once at the train station and held on to both of them, Jen didn't ask for her own so she wouldn't get it, just like the room key, no hints either, she would have to blatantly ask for it he thought to himself.

He asked her what she might like to do next and she said she was starving, she also mentioned wanting to get to know him better and wanting to go for a walk by a lake, date stuff he thought. It was working well. She also admitted she was nervous, trying to impress him the day before. It was natural really.

"It's ok Jen, it is natural that you were trying to impress me, playing the odds that I would be impressed with a soldier type of woman, it's all good." he assured her.

"Let's go find somewhere to eat" he said as he led off, they walked down the other side of the street this time, more shops of various types, and found a little mom and dad cafe, "looks good" he said to her and led them in.

The waitress was another cutie, were all the waitresses cute in this town? He wondered. He didn't pay her any more attention than was required though and she seated them down and handed them the menu.

"Order anything you like all on Uncle Sam" he said to her.

"So not much experience in high heels?" he asked referring to her comment earlier about needing more practice to walk in them.

"Have you noticed since you loosened up that women are different around you now? The waitresses earlier on and the lingerie lady, I thought you were going to bayonet them, Pauline though was different wasn't she, she wanted to help you to bond with you. Ok Jen, lets start playing our game now if you like, I will let you go first, you can ask me 1 question about myself or WASP and then I get to ask you 3 ok?" he asked her, wondering what she would ask first and formulating some questions for her as well.

The waitress came back and asked if they were ready to order, "Yes, I will have a burger and some fries" he said to the young lady, long curly dark hair and slim and maybe about 19.

"And you Jen?" he asked as if Jen were his girl.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen looked back at the Sergeant a little nervously, still not used to the way he encouraged her to just be herself and not just fall into her default gung-ho soldier persona to hide the feelings she wasn't ready to share with the world let alone face them herself. She felt a little color in her cheeks, watching his face, still unsure how this would go, how he would react to some of the things she was admitting.

If she had shared anything like this with the guys back in basic -- her worries about walking awkwardly in high heels, or anxieties about wanting to impress a man even if only professionally -- they would have laughed her off the base. She tried to imagine Cruz of Johnson's reactions if she would have admitted to them she'd like to walk in the park rather than watch football with them at the bar. How could she have fought beside guys like that with her head held high after the teasing they would have given her, a girly-girl in cammies?

But looking at the Sergeant's chiseled jaw as he took her openness, her female side in stride, she realized she may have been wrong about a lot of things. The Sergeant was mature in a way the guys back in basic couldn't compete with. Did it make any sense to base the way she behaved in her career around pleasing a couple immature yahoos in Basic rather than real men like the Sergeant? Jen started to consider that maybe hiding these other parts of herself, the way she'd avoided her mother's interests and hopes throughout her whole childhood, might have been immaturity on her part. And was her dad's stoicism, his steely macho silence really an example for her to emulate? Or was it just a damaged by-product of his wounds and battle trauma?

None of these thoughts made it any easier for her waiting for his response, but it made her hopeful she might be discovering some important sides of herself she hadn't examined in far too long, possibly helpful parts of herself if she learned to harness them properly rather than reflexively hiding them.

It was a relief when the Sergeant reassured her he understood her desire to impress him and wasn't judging her harshly for it, his approval reinforcing her sense that sharing her feelings -- even admitting she had feelings at all -- wasn't a mistake, but growth. She could always turn them off in combat, go back to her super-soldier self if she was actually on a mission. But when it came to bonding with the soldiers she was leading, or with her superiors, like the Sergeant, everything just felt better, smoother, when she approached it with this lighter touch.

Jen let the Sergeant lead the way to a restaurant he'd picked out across the street, following along more like the girls back in high school did on dates with the football players than her own more typical manner of aggressively taking the lead lest anyone suspect her of being the weak link in the group.

The Sergeant picked out a nice little diner with local atmosphere and Jen contrasted it with the burger joints and taco shacks she usually ended up at with the guys back in basic, or heck, even all through college. If she didn't realize she was really getting a head start on training and preparation for leadership with the Sergeant, she could have believed this was what it might like to be on a date with the Sergeant. Well, at least the first part of the date.

Jen's mind couldn't help flitting across the second part of a date with the Sergeant at the sight of the pretty young waitress who showed them to their table, just the kind of sweet young thing that constantly captured the Sergeant's attention. The girl's frilly white top that she carefully arranged to show a little bare shoulder didn't escape Jen's attention, nor did the shortness of her skirt and the heels she somehow managed to to walk around in like she was born with them on her feet. Jen glanced at the Sergeant, ready for the good times to be over and his eyes to be all over the girl, but she found his eyes glancing back at her rather than the waitress, and Jen hoped the little smile that came over her face wasn't too noticeable.

Jen and the Sergeant sat at the square table, sharing one corner rather than face to face, and she realized she was starting to feel more like they were together, teammates finally rather than enemies, like he was her partner in training rather than an obstacle to her success. She listened with an open mind, one eye on the menu as he polished off a lot of her own thinking from this strange morning. Jen nodded, clearly noticing what he pointed out about the waitress and women in general seeming less threatening around Jen now. She didn't feel nearly as defensive or confrontational, her normal prickly side around them not a problem now that they weren't giving her so much trouble -- or did she have that backward, the trouble coming because of they way she herself had been acting?

And then the Sergeant officially opened their 3 for 1 question game much earlier than she'd expected, having thought it wouldn't be until they were alone back in the room and she'd have plenty of time to consider what she wanted to ask. So her mind was spinning around all of her curiosity, trying to coalesce it all down to a single question while she should have been actually reading the menu rather than just staring at it vacantly.

Still lost in thought, she heard the Sergeant talking to the waitress who was standing right there at the table, very close to him. Then the Sergeant's voice saying her name roused her from her distracted quest for the perfect question. She looked up, blinking as the world returned to her consciousness. The Sergeant and the waitress were both looking at her expectantly, but all Jen noticed was the Sergeant's look, focused on Jen's face rather than the waitress's tight little body.

Jen didn't scowl or frown at the Sergeant's tone, or the waitress's knowing little smirk, like she thought the two of them were on having a lunchtime tryst, like she knew exactly what they were doing to each other as soon as lunch was over. But it was ok. It didn't bother Jen, not really. The girl probably just thought the two of them were suited to each other. Heck, it was even a compliment to Jen, if she thought about it that way, that the girl thought Jen attractive enough to be with the Sergeant. Jen smiled at the Sergeant, and then looked up at the young girl looking down waiting for her order. "I'd like a salad and the salmon," she said, thinking of the lingerie as she turned down the potatoes that go with it. "Would you recommend the salmon with the teriyaki or the dill?" The waitress broke into a little smile, as if nobody ever asked her opinion and Jen went along with the girl's suggestion of teriyaki.

Once the girl was gone to fetch them water and post the order, Jen turned back to the Sergeant. She took a couple breaths, her mind still spinning around trying to pick the right question, since she only got once for every three the Sergeant got. It wasn't fair, but Jen was used to basic, used to fairness being a concept only fit for civilians and officers. And she was neither.

After a moment contemplating the design on her plate, touching the ridging with her finger and then squaring the corners of her napkin just so, she turned her attention back to him. "So, if we're starting now, I guess I should try to ask something that could be useful before we actually get to camp, something that could make a difference, not just theoretical. Hmm. Ok Sarge, can you answer this? If you could recommend one thing I should do or work on over the next day before we get to camp, something that will improve my chances of passing training and making the squad, what would it be?" She was tempted to make it a multiple selection between working on her marksmanship, getting in another run, or spending some time at the library reading up on close quarters skirmishing tactics, but that was the part of her that wasn't working, the part of her she'd tuned perfectly to impress juvenile pfc's in basic training rather than a real man and soldier like the Sergeant. She just left the question open, ready to hear whatever the Sergeant thought was best. Otherwise, why ask?

 

[littlerooster]

He sat in the cafe and looked at Jen, it was feeling more like a date then two soldier buddies having lunch. He once again drifted in his mind, could he do these things to her that the course required, it required him to do some pretty nasty things at times and to instruct other males to do the same, Jen would be used and abused during all of this and then she would be expected to have debriefs and counselling sessions with her tormentor, still, she could back out any time she wanted, the Colonel's words again echoing in his mind.

He decided that this would be the way to go now, treat it like a date of sorts, chat, play the 3:1 question game as if it were a game of ice breaking anything but let Jen fall back into soldier mode, she had done so well, came so far and he would have to keep the momentum up now.

The cute waitress took their orders, salmon for Jen and a T-bone steak with chips and salad for himself, he liked beef, like big hearty meals and figured Jen was already thinking about what she would look like in the lingerie and so ordered the light meal with no carbs, the salmon sound good but steak sounded better he thought!

"So Jennifer, have you thought of a question about me or the course so we can start playing our game?" he asked her, using her full name, wanting to address her in a more feminine and mature manner, hoping that this slight nuance would encourage her further.

She look surprised and the game starting now was certainly unexpected for her but that was also a good thing, she had to start learning to think outside the box, expect the unexpected, she would have her world turned upside down several times by the time she either quit the course or finished it, whichever came first.

She asked her question, which should she try and improve on first, he was happy with her question, it was a solid question and would help her a lot.

"Well Jennifer, I think you should master walking in heels, that would be one skill that would get you a long way in WASP, I am not being sarcastic and remember our rule that I can not tell you more than I am allowed to but you need to learn to walk in those heels for sure" he said to her in a matter of fact way expecting a shock reaction or similar.

"OK. Now it is my turn to ask you my three questions, and remember our other rule, you can't ask why I am asking you things, you answer or the game is over and you don't get to ask anything else ok?" he said to her in a friendly but firm manner.

"Ok let's start" he said after looking to see if the waitress would be back soon or if their food was close to being ready yet.

"Question 1 - When did you first masturbate?, Question 2 - When did you first have an orgasm and Question 3 When was your first boyfriend" he stated his questions and then "I will let you ponder those questions a moment, I need to go to the little sergeants room" he said to her and got up from his chair.

He went to the bathroom and using his phone he typed in another report regarding Jen to the Colonel.

"Colonel, PFC Geller has come a long way, she has bought lingerie and heels, and she is no longer wanting to bayonet other females as a way of keeping them away from me, I believe her sexual confidence is growing and she is becoming more feminine, I think there is hope for her yet!" he typed to her before returning to the table just as their meals were arriving.

He looked at Jen and when the waitress left, he said stuffing a chip in his mouth "So, lets hear some answers" he said to her.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen was relieved the Sergeant took her question seriously and didn't just play his not-allowed-to-talk-about-it trump card to shut her down. But as he started to answer her, what she couldn't help noticing first was that he used her full name again, for the second time now so it was no accident. Jennifer.

To Jen the name Jennifer represented a vision of herself she'd long ago rejected. It was the name her mom insisted on using the time she tried to enter her in a beauty pageant when she was 16, countering Jen's complaints with her opinion that Jennifer just sounded more like the name of a pretty girl the judges could vote for. Of course, none of the judges voted for the name Jennifer, any more than they voted for Jen either. Jen went for two long training runs instead that weekend with district finals less than two weeks away. Her mom's disappointment hurt Jen a little, but how could her mom have been surprised? Did she really expect Hank Geller's daughter to rely on her physical looks and male approval to make her mark in the world?

But now a few years later, wearing sexy panties under her cammies and high heels in the bag at her feet, Jen for the first time managed to feel a little sympathy for her mom's position. It still meant more to her to earn her father's approval than the votes of a few men who might decide she was the prettiest girl on some stage, but would it really have hurt so much to have given her mom that one thing? Of course she wouldn't have won, since she didn't know how to twirl a baton and the talent judges probably wouldn't care how close her shot distribution was at 50 meters, so how bad would it have been just to wear a swimsuit on stage, walk back and forth and pretend to care, since it wouldn't have led to anything anyway? Now that her mom was gone, every opportunity she'd passed up to make her smile just seemed to hurt a little more.

Jen's attention was snapped back to the Sergeant as his answer filtered through all her thoughts about the name Jennifer. Had he really said she should learn to walk in heels? If that was really what he said, she was sure he was joking, except no sooner did she start to laugh a little than he said he was serious. Jen opened her mouth but before she could ask anything more he had to remind her he couldn't tell her everything but he really meant it, even mentioning the heels again so there was no doubt in her mind he really had given her that cryptic answer.

"That's... you really are serious. Seriously?" The Sergeant didn't break out in any great big just-kidding grin, just looked back at her and Jen's mouth moved a little without any words coming out. "I mean, I know I can do that but... how can that help? Sorry, I know, I know, you can't answer that but..." Jen's mind pried at this little nugget like a squirrel going after a nut, with utter certainty there had to be some richer truth inside that seemingly impenetrable outer shell. High heels?

Finally she just nodded. It had to be some sort of spy thing, high end kind of infiltration or undercover thing, like on Alias when Jennifer Garner always had to go to night clubs wearing fancy wigs and stuff. They couldn't send Melissa McCarthy on a mission like that, and she certainly couldn't go in wearing house slippers and a bathrobe if she wanted to catch the eye of her target. To get into Casino Royale like the girls James Bond always had on his arm, they had to dress for Casino Royale, and none of the female spies ever tripped or wobbled around. Maybe it was something like that. But still, why would she have to learn it? If she was the leader and there were lots of other women in the unit who were as beautiful as the pictures in the Sergeant's folders suggested, surely there she could send some of them in as the high-heeled bait while she waited with a sniper scope to do the real work. It just didn't add up.

The Sergeant didn't leave her much time to mull it over though, already moving on with his turn like it was the kind of game with winners and losers.

He prefaced his questions with a reminder about the rules of the game, and Jen wiped the confused look from her face to nod, as if it was silly for him to even suspect she might forget the rules. But he raised the stakes a little over what he'd revealed when he first suggested the game: if she asked why or failed to answer something, she wouldn't get any more questions. He was smiling, but the tone of his warning was stern enough Jen could tell he wasn't kidding around.

Jen nodded with a look of concentration and determination, wondering if it would be good to have a pencil so she could work out answers on her napkin. She remembered a few of the questions on the ASVAB had been tricky enough she couldn't do them all in her head even if the test overall had been rather easy for her. "Got it. I have to answer them all, and no asking why. No problem."

The Sergeant glanced around, like he was making sure nobody was around or the waitress wasn't standing around where she might overhear something and Jen was sure this meant the questions might even by about things regular civilians weren't supposed to know about, specialized artillery payload weights and stuff like that, and Jen couldn't help leaning a little closer as he started the questions. She expected something elaborate, almost like defending her senior thesis, but he rattled off the questions so quickly and in such terse terms that he had them all out before Jen's disbelief at the first even registered on her face.

Her eyes went wide and she looked up at him as he got up for the rest room, and her head shook back and forth a little in denial. That couldn't be what he meant to ask. Masturbation, orgasms and boyfriends? What, was she applying for a job at the Oprah Network? Was this some sort of Cosmo quiz to see if she was compatible with a special guy? It was ridiculous.

Jen stewed, the questions unanswered in her thoughts, not ready to accept he didn't want to know about the maximum velocity of a round discharged by an M16 or the proper squad formation for approaching a camouflaged enemy sniper position. She sat and watched the door to the little Sergeant's room, nothing but waiting for him on her mind. Finally it opened and she was trying to figure out how to approach the weird situation without losing her chance to ask more questions in return. Just as she opened her mouth, though, the waitress came with their meals, happy and chipper as she narrated each food item she set down in front of them, especially the Sergeant's steak.

The waitress's efforts got no reaction from Jen but a querulous look at the Sergeant. The Sergeant seemed to ignore her too, which should have made Jen feel better she thought, but nothing felt better with his three questions still hanging in the air between them. The waitress sighed and shrugged and then retreated, muttering something about getting in the middle of a lovers' quarrel.

Jen tracked her departure and then turned back to the Sergeant. She started to speak, to ask what three questions like that could possibly have to do with anything, and how could he possibly even know if she was giving the right answers anyway? But as her lips opened she stopped herself, thinking again about the rules and realizing she was close to blowing it. She frowned as her mouth closed and she stared at her salmon for a moment.

The Sergeant prodded her for answers and she looked back at him. What choice did she have? It was all so embarrassing but maybe he was testing to see if she really could talk to him freely, if she could handle the rigors of the program with him as her counselor. Jen hadn't done much therapy other than a little grief counseling, but her mom had talked enough about her own it seemed like it didn't work unless you shared, well, pretty much every thing you didn't really want to.

Jen took a deep breath and pushed all the questions down. "Well, let's start with the third, since I can believe you're serious about that one at least. First boyfriend depends a little on your definition. I went on a bunch of first dates when I was 16 and 17, but I kind of got a reputation as the girl that wouldn't, you know, put out? So that kind of dried up, especially once my mom died, and there wasn't a guy I'd call a boyfriend. That might be George... I forget his last name actually, but he was a little nerdy and wasn't as hung up on what base I would go to and all that, and I guess he knew nobody was asking me out -- which was fine with me by the way -- and he asked me out a couple times which was ok, and then asked me out to the prom. I was going to say know but dad was all choked up about how happy mom would have been that I ended up saying yes, so I went. Nothing really happened but he was sweet and he did kiss me a little. But then college and all, and it didn't go anywhere. Never really had a chance."

She looked at him to make sure her answer was what he had in mind, that he didn't have a file somewhere with George's last name in it he was going to pull out and tell her she was out of the program for not knowing it. But he just seemed to be listening, or maybe waiting to get all the answers first, she couldn't tell.

"So, you really mean it about the first two? Ok, ok, yeah, I know. Ok. Well..." Jen pulled her chair even closer as she glanced around even more carefully than he had earlier, close enough they were like two conspirators, close enough her knee bumped his but she didn't pull back, not wanting this to go any farther than the Sergeant's ears.

Jen literally whispered. "Look, I'll tell you but only you, ok? This is... I trust you, all right?" She looked around again and then glanced at her hands, twisting together in a tight little fisted knot in front of her plate, like she was praying not to have to go through with it. But no bolt from the blue arrived to stop it.

Still in a whisper she started. "Again, with masturbation it's, well, it's a little like the boyfriend thing, it depends a little on how you define it, you know?" His look didn't seem like he knew, or at least didn't want to let her off the hook by admitting it. "I mean, there's, well, there's fooling around, there's touching or exploring, there's... there's, like, levels. I guess you could say I started somewhere between 6 or 8, not sure exactly but I can remember lying in bed and thinking certain things and just having a feeling that was so warm and tingly I had to touch it, and mostly I would move my hips or grind myself against a pillow that felt really good. But I didn't have any idea, didn't understand anything except it just felt good that's all, like scratching an itch or taking a hot bath, something like that."

"But if you just care about when I, well, when I started to, uh, mean business, that was around 10 or 11. You see, my dad was starting to get real bad about then, during those years, and he had all these stories about his fire fights, and especially about how he barely avoided getting captured like some of his buddies. I think I was probably too young to handle some of those stories, about what happened to POWs and how important it was that they held out and didn't talk, some of those guys for a long time. Anyway, I'd lie in bed and think about his poor buddies, wondering if I was ever in the military like my dad, what would it be like if I couldn't get away like he did, imagining what it would be like to be a POW, all the bad stuff he talked about, or at least what I understood about it, and whether I'd be brave enough to hold out like the guys in Dad's stories. When I was 6 or 8 it was like a scary story, the thing I thought about while I was struggling to get to sleep. And after a few nights, I started getting a... well, good feeling, you know, down there, and it was just kind of like the, um, the antidote to all those scary thoughts. That was the iffy masturbation I mentioned, when it first started. It was like I got those good feelings every time the scary thoughts got to be too much for me to fall asleep, and I started to love that feeling, like it was the only thing that helped me get to sleep.

"I guess you can see where this is going. I didn't know what it was back then. But those those POW thoughts kept coming, especially as my father got worse and his stories stuck with me even more, and as I got a little older and started wondering if the bad guys would be nicer to me because I was a girl, or maybe the opposite, you know? And I started to imagine it all a little more, I wouldn't say accurately exactly, cuz I really didn't know anything, but I would think a lot about it lets just say, and one night it just kind of, well. I couldn't get to sleep, couldn't stop worrying about it, and the good feelings started to come, but I just couldn't shake the worries this time, and I kept going, wanting just a little more of the tingling, like I believed in it, if I could just get a little more of it I'd be able to sleep. So, well, duh, yeah, I just kept going and it happened. It felt so good my whole body went stiff and my mom heard me and came in to check I was ok. I made up something about a bad dream but she said I was sweating and must have a fever and kept me home the next day. That was the first time.

Suddenly the restaurant and clank of plates back in the kitchen brought Jen back to the present, at the table with the Sergeant, leaning in so close their knees were still touching and he must be able to feel the breath of her whispers on his skin. Jen knew immediately her face must be crimson and she could feel the tingling already, just like all those times in bed alone and struggling with her fears. She didn't know what she was afraid of, and knew enough now about her body to understand it could be more complicated, and that maybe the fact the Sergeant was a handsome man might have a little to do with it too.

But she coughed and tried to ignore the feeling, ready to defend her answers if he was unhappy. She'd poured out her heart and the thought of getting thrown out after that because she couldn't remember George's last name just wasn't an option. Her salmon sat cooling in front of her, untouched, as she looked back at the Sergeant's face, her heart pounding, anxious for some sign of approval, some hint that pushing herself to the point of embarrassment with him hadn't been a huge mistake.

 

[littlerooster]

He could see that she was a little disappointed with his answer, ok, very disappointed with his answer, it was however the truth, she already knew how to fire a weapon, how to clean it, load it, and probably even knew how to cook a three course meal with it, he laughed to himself, why would special forces training require her to relearn everything she had already been taught. He looked at her a moment, he was really starting to like her.

He could also see that by using her full name it had some kind of reaction with her, it sparked something within her, good or bad it made a difference and it made her see him as someone different as well, not just any old army buddy or any old drill sergeant but someone different altogether, someone unique, because and as much as his ego hated it, all of this was unique, the training, the squad, his role, everything was brand fucking new and she had to by way of symbolism and any other way he could think of, he had to make her realize it.

He realized that he would be many things to Jen, and one of those things would be a mother of sorts, he was already in this role, encouraging her to buy sexy lingerie, wanting her to learn to walk in high heels all of these things she would have gone through with her mother, probably fighting her every step of the way and running outside in her expensive dresses to play GI Joe with the boys. Well now she would learn that to play with the boys she would have to learn to be a woman.

Yes, she laughed at his response. He expected that, it was fine, if she answered his questions well he would give her some free advice, he himself was getting used to the role now, getting used to walking the fine line of confidant, counselor and drill sergeant, everything would be in the grey area until the camp actually started and even then there would just be more grey areas. So be it he thought to himself.

He nodded affirming that yes that was his answer, he was hoping she wouldn't blow it, please don't ask for more, please open your mind up, he hoped to himself and she came through it, better than expected really.

He could see by the look in her eyes that she was processing, possibly having fantasies of some sort like the tv shows Alias and the various other movies and shows where beautiful but capable women get all dressed up and take out the enemy by infiltrating and seducing them, she was closer in her fantasy world then she thought.

He asked his questions and then excused himself to go to the bathroom but really write his report and let Geller stew on his questions a little, he knew she would be royally pissed off by them and even more pissed off that she couldn't ask why these bits of information were important. They were important though, for a start it would make her open up, open up about her sex life and her morals and also it would allow him some more insight into this woman who wanted to play soldier from a young age and yet now as a soldier was closer to the world of Barbie then she could imagine.

He returned to the table as their meals were being presented, he didn't pay any attention to the waitress who could feel the tension between them. Or the tension in Geller, Nathaniel was pretty cool about the whole thing. he knew that no matter how pissed off Geller was she would answer the questions if for no other reason than to be able to ask another one.

He had reminded her of the rules just in case, just to remind her to be cool about it all. He was expecting the typical nerd response of "Will this be on the test".

The waitress safely removed from the scene he went back to looking at Geller waiting to see what her responses would be, did he get it all wrong and upset her enough to quit right now? No, she would answer, she was just trying to work out HOW to answer the questions, she would not want to come across as a slut, even if she had sucked a hundred cocks she would want everything to sound as normal as possible, but would there be more to her answers then just mechanics? Yes, with Jen there would be more then just that alone.

She was about to ask a question, don't do it! He thought to himself, just answer the questions, show some faith he thought.

Then she started to talk, she started with the third question, the boyfriend question, she told him how she started to date around 16, but had the reputation as the girl who wouldn't put out so it was all very limited for her. Guys of course want sex, especially at that age all they want to do is get naked and crazy with a girl, Jen would have come across as a tease, whether she was or not wasn't the point at all really, she was beautiful and her mere presence especially as a date would have been enough to drive a young guys hormones into overdrive, add that if he was paying for the night's entertainment and food then he would have had some expectations as well. He thought of his own early dates and he could relate to that feeling, that feeling of this girl is letting me spend all this money on her she better at least kiss me!

She told him about a nerdy guy called George, how he wasn't hung up on sex and that was because he was either gay or lacked confidence so much he was just happy to have someone with him a while. Nathaniel could relate to that as well, he was that awkward guy at one point, that guy who if a girl bumped into him he would record it as a win.

She went on to explain how she only went out to the prom with him because after her mom died her dad was all gushy about it, wanting to see his daughter all grown up and liking the idea that her mother might be looking down from the heavens to see her daughter as a woman. It was quite touching and he felt guilty about his more sexual questions.

He reached out and squeezed her hand after hearing her story, he didn't want to say anything and couldn't think of anything to say anyhow, he just wanted her to know that she was doing well and that her story had touched him. She looked like she didn't some encouragement as well.

She asked in a half hearted manner if he was serious about the other questions, of course he was, she was just feeling nervous, she pulled in closer and her knee touched his, she didn't move it back and he felt a flush of heat pass through him, he was getting hard as well, this was becoming more and more like a date all the time.

She got nervous and then stated that she didn't want the information to go any further, she said she trusted him which was a good sign and he nodded, he wouldn't tell anyone, all of this was off the record anyway.

He watched her squirm a little more then she took another deep breath and went on with it.

She told him the usual story, light playing around started as soon as she would have realized that she had body parts that felt good when you touched them, she wouldn't have really understood at this time what those parts were even for most likely, just that they felt good. She spoke about grinding her hips and curling around her pillow, he got harder listening to this, he knew there was probably pre cum as well leaking from his cock, he was turned on by her descriptions, he looked down and took another chip in his mouth but it was really just an excuse to take a breath, he was excited.

Her first orgasm was around 10 or 11, it seems her dad had laid some really heavy war stories on her, it would have forced her to be stronger than what she was and what she was ready for at her age. She would have been trying to support her father while the whole time trying to come to terms with what he was telling her. She would have been his counselor, his pseudo wife. He wondered if things ever felt romantic between them, not sexually but just if they ever felt like they were a couple, he stored that information in his memory banks.

The POW stories really left a mark on her, these stories would have been by default erotic in a sense. Holding someone captive, having complete control over them, she wondered if they would be nicer or worse to a girl, he smiled a little at this, this would be a big part of the WASP training program, being trained to deal with rape and sexual assault and other perversions. She had been caught masturbating by her mother as well, always a bad thing. It seemed her parents were always there, good or bad, always there hovering around in some way. Her mother seemed more supportive and perhaps becasue of this she sought her father's approval more.

Some dishes made some noise and Jen jumped out of her reflective mode, almost like being pulled out of a scene of history entirely. He let her have a moment to collect herself and he looked at her and smiled. Her face was red as a beetroot.

"You have done well Jennifer, I am very happy with your answers and I believe what you have told me, there was a lot of deep thoughts and emotions there" he said to her.

"Now please eat, don't let your food get stone cold." he added.

"I am so pleased that I will give you a little freebie and you will also be able to ask another question as well about me or the training program. You were shocked when I told you learning to walk in the heels was one of the most important things you could learn. This is true, there are more than one way to take out an enemy, to achieve the mission, you need to keep an open mind about WASP training. You already know how to soldier, it would be pointless to teach you all that again, this is Special Forces now, you will be taught new skills, just as soldiers who join SEAL, or Green Berets or Rangers are taught new skills" he explained to her.

"Do you follow me Jennifer?" he asked smiling.

He started to cut up his also cooling steak and started to eat.

"Now, what is your question?" he added.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

As Jen sat watching the Sergeant mull over all she'd said, she could still feel the way his fingers had touched hers, the way he reached out for her hand when her memories were the most painful. It had seemed like a small gesture, but it meant a lot to her, like he really understood, like he cared. Jen looked in his face and felt she could trust him.

Still though, she felt very anxious by the time he opened his mouth to react to her answers. By the time he complimented all she'd said, telling her she did well and that he was happy with her answers, all the tension went out of her body in one long slow exhale. The fear of having bared so much of her soul to him only to have it be not what he'd wanted, or maybe too much of it, had her sitting very tensely, but finally she relaxed a little. She even felt a little warm towards him, the kind of pride and pleasure she used to feel with her dad every time she brought home her report card. But her dad never called her Jennifer when he praised her. It felt different, but good, like it was a different name for a different Jen, one who was ready for new challenges.

The Sergeant nodded toward her food, reminding her to eat. Jen blinked and then remembered her salmon. She'd all but forgotten she'd ordered it so long ago, her mind so absorbed with the Sergeant and his questions. With a small smile, she took her fork picked at her salmon, nibbling on the side salad while the Sergeant went on with more information to her. Her mind was on his words, not her food, but she kept her fork moving enough to at least stave off the grumbling in her stomach.

She had restrained her curiosity when he'd told her the thing she could do to get ready for the camp was to learn to walk properly in her heels, stopped herself from asking why, how it could possibly matter compared to marksmanship or field tactics, just letting the strange answer slide by with nothing but her own speculations because that was the rules of the game, and if there was one thing she'd learned it was that the officers made the rules and everyone else followed them. She was still everyone else, even if the Sergeant had her toying privately in her head the idea someday she might be more than that, like he thought she might matter.

Now, perhaps as a reward for her restraint, she couldn't tell, he was volunteering more information about the relationship between wearing high heels and success in the WASP program. It wasn't much, whetting her curiosity as much as satisfying it, but she drank it up, how joing WASP wasn't about reteaching her what she already learned in basic, but adding new skills to fight in new ways. Maybe her speculations hadn't been so far off after all. She smiled and nodded, taking a sip of water before telling him she got it.

He started to attack his steak, looking more like the Sergeant she thought she knew, carnivorous and aggressive now after showing so much sensitivity, even holding her hand when she'd needed it. Chewing on a mouthful he asked for her next question. She'd earned another she had done so well, and it felt better than any gold star she'd ever earned in school, and she'd earned more than her share.

She used the Sergeant's vigorous appetite as a cover for time to consider. He'd given her new information and she was starting to think she really hadn't a clue what kind of team she was getting into. Finally she took a chance, not sure if she was pushing the rules too far, what would be asking too much, but she had to try. She had to understand what she was up against, even if knowing wouldn't necessarily help her. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe knowing would just mean worrying, but she was always the type who prefered having knowledge and control of the situation rather than being a clueless pawn subject to the whims of others. In the military that could be difficult and she'd had to learn to channel it, but if she was given the opportunity to ask freely, it was almost impossible for Jen not to.

"Sarge, so, I keep hearing how many women you think are going to drop out or outright fail the training, like it's some incredibly difficult thing. Ok, I get that you're not going to be running us through basic training, just reteaching us how to shoot and all that when we already know. But if not that, then I don't get why you think it's going to be so hard for us. If learning to walk in high heels is how you think I should be getting ready, maybe I could understand you would suspect I might fail because of it since I pretty much still have to figure that out." She planned to as soon as they got back to the room, a problem she planned to attack with all the intensity she threw into every winning science fair project she'd ever put together.

She thought of the girls she'd seen in the Sergeant's folder, trying to imagine any of them having the slightest difficulty in high heels. Maybe one, but they all looked like they were born for it. "But how many women would you really expect to fail because they had trouble with high heels, maybe two? Three? What is it about the program that you think is going to make us want to drop out? What do you think is the hardest part of the program?" She had almost confessed having peeked at the pictures, certain that would have gotten her in trouble, only managed to rephrase her question at the last second as if she hadn't seen the pictures of all the other recruits, how beautiful they were. She took another bite of salmon, more to give herself something to do while her mind worried about how he'd take the question. Was she asking too much?

 

[littlerooster]

Nathaniel could see that he and Jennifer were finally starting to really bond, she answered the questions well and the physical contact between them helped to drive the point home that he really did care. He wanted her to succeed in at least being herself, opening herself up to her more feminine side, the side that would allow her to be completely her and not just a hardcore soldier type. Because of course there weren't many of those types around anyway even in the majority male soldier recruits.

Most soldiers were just normal people who saw soldiering as a profession, they wanted to get the job done and once the job was done they could relax and be themselves, much like any other type of profession out there, not many soldiers were hardcore off duty.

He smiled as he saw the tension leave her body, she was relaxing and if she kept it up she would do fine, he would keep working on her through the day and over night and even on the train, he wanted her to be prepared as possible for WASP training, he would tell her as much as he could without giving away the whole game plan.

She started to eat her luke warm salmon and he ploughed into his own steak and chips, devouring it quickly as most men especially bigger men do, as if waiting a little too long to eat would be the difference between a predator stealing the food away or something, his mother always used to tell him that, "no one is going to steal your food Nathaniel" she would say, but he didn't feel he was eating quickly, he was just being himself, he tried once to eat slower and it felt wrong, he got bored with the food, with the whole process and he didn't enjoy his meal at all.

He could see that she was really starting to get it, getting it in that weird way where she doubted if her thoughts on the matter were correct but at the same time she knew that given what she had been told about WASP that she was on the right path at the very least. She was also starting to understand that Special Forces training wasn't about re teaching the candidates skills they had already acquired, it was about teaching them new skills, skills that were special to the role of their unit.

He kept eating as she considered her question, he knew she was filled with them but as she could only ask one, she would have to consider which way she would go and how far she dared push the boundaries, he was happy to bend it as much as he could, Jennifer was unique, she could be a leader if she chose to be, in WASP or another unit.

Then she looked at him, as if she was about to confess or know that she could be giving away the fact that she had sneaked a look at 3 of the candidates when he left the files out for that very purpose. He would let it slide if she did confess, and would let it slide if she came close to admitting it, he did after all leave them out for that purpose.

She asked why he thought so many women would drop out, why if walking in high heels was so important what could be so difficult about the course. He considered her question for a moment, it was a difficult one to answer without giving away too much. He could hardly say that the course was probably more involved then the training a stripper or hooker gets, it was in fact a training ground to be the best possible sex worker on the planet. But he couldn't say that so he chewed his steak slower to buy some time.

And yes she did kind of give herself away, mentioning the magic number 3.

"Well" he started slowly swallowing his steak.

"The course is quite unique, you all have your expectations as to what it might be like what the purpose of a WASP unit is. This might not be what some women think it will be like so they will no doubt leave quite early on, maybe even on the first or second day, it is what we are expecting, these things happen and we realize that we have told you ladies very little, so it would be fair enough if when you got there you felt like it just isn't for you." he answered dipping some chip in the gravy.

"Now besides from the expectations of the women, there is also the course itself, it will be very demanding, physically, mentally, emotionally, all very demanding and it will lay the candidates quite bare I assure you" he said hinting at the nudity that will occur in the first few days but knowing that Jennifer would hardly link that.

"So all I can say to you is be prepared for the extreme, be prepared for what you expect the least and if at any point it doesn't feel right for you then you should leave, and I don't say that because I want you to leave the course but because I don't want you to get hurt" he said sincerely squeezing her hand once more.

He felt he answered her question well and with more detail than he expected.

"So Jennifer, I believe it is my turn to ask three questions" he said smiling.

"Question one - Have you ever seen a stripper male or female in real life? Question 2 - Have you ever thought about doing anything sexual including posing nude for photos for money? Question 3 - Have you ever been offered money for anything sexual?" he asked and sat back to let her consider her responses.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

The Sergeant only answered her slowly, like he didn't mind if she had to worry an extra few seconds or not, like he actually needed that last bit of steak to power the intensity of his thoughts. Jen fidgeted with her fork against the salmon as she waited for him to answer, nervous she'd gone too far, asked too much.

Finally he started to answer, seeming to take her question seriously. Jen felt relief she hadn't misjudged the game, or her chances at getting any more information from him that might help her make it through the training. That didn't mean his answer was any great help though. He seemed to be tap dancing through a minefield to avoid revealing... something... to her, and the harder he worked to say nothing while answering everything, the more she needed to know what he wasn't saying.

He'd already made it clear the program's difficulties weren't what she expected, failure more likely to come from a pair of heels than trouble hitting a bullseye. For as long as it took him to answer, and as satisfied as his smile seemed to be when he was finally finished, Jen couldn't quite figure out what new piece of information she'd been given.

Did he think she hadn't already realized some women would drop out the first day or two when they found out it wasn't what they expected? Of course some would be weak-willed, or not committed enough to make it like her. What training course wasn't that true of? Even guys had dropped out early in basic, feigning injuries, illness, anything to take the easy way out. Not Jen though. That wasn't how her dad raised her. Her mom either actually, just in a very different way.

Did the Sergeant think she didn't know the course would be demanding? Why did he think she was even asking these questions? No, all she could think of was it had to be some combination of the information he thought was knew to her. What was unexpected, the opposite of the obvious, and would still be physically, mentally and emotionally demanding, and would lay candidates bare? What would be extreme enough to make him think she might leave early, to make him worry she might be hurt, sweet as his concern was? Was this some kind of cooking school where they might have to make disgusting mushroom souffles and risk getting nicked by a kitchen knife? It just didn't make sense. And his heavy emphasis on the word bare?

Jen couldn't think of anything but the James Bond spying in Monte Carlo scenarios, maybe having to wear shoulder-baring evening gowns and high heels, and learn to play baccarat with their payslips so it would hurt if they lost? Learning to drink martinis shaken not stirred rather than beers down at the commissary? Learning to act posh rather than deadly? Sure, maybe a few might drop out if that was it, but how would that really hurt so much, or expose so much or whatever to make anyone quit? Even Jen thought she could handle that, and she certainly counted herself among the hardliners who would have been expecting weapons and tactics training if not for the Sergeant's considerate warnings to the contrary.

As before, though, the Sergeant cut short any time she might have to really think it through, giving her hand a squeeze at the mention of his concern for her getting hurt and not letting go for a little longer than strictly necessary. Jen's eyes met his and she saw the way he looked at her, like maybe he really was a friend rather than some adversary sent to knock her out of the program before it even started. She didn't pull her hand away, liking the feel of having someone in her corner, someone on her side. It was rare enough in her short time in the military so far, other than guys who just wanted to get in her pants of course, but she'd seen the Sergeant work his magic on enough waitresses already that she wasn't really especially defensive around him at this point, knowing he could have turned on his one-night-stand charm with her so many times already and hadn't.

And then it was three more questions for her. She hadn't expected them so quick, still feeling a little wrung out from baring her soul to him in answer to the first three, but the Sergeant was asking them anyway, and her only choice was to answer or end the game, if it could even be called a game at this point.

Three more questions, three more about her sexuality. "With all these questions about, well, sex, Sergeant, if I didn't know any better I'd think I was interviewing to work in a whore house." Jen laughed, but only for a second and then the laugh died quickly, not even bothering to pass through the stages of chuckle and gentle smile on the way back down. "Well, uh, ok. I can't ask why, right, why you want to know this weird stuff?" Briefest pause just in the off-chance he might be willing to tell her something more, but she hadn't really expected it at this point anyway.

"Fine, ok. Let's see. Seen a stripper, thought about posing nude for money, or been offered money for sex stuff -- in a nutshell, obviously." Suddenly it was a lot harder to meet his eyes, and she was a thousand times more aware of his big knee still against hers, the feel of his big mitt on top of her hand. She thought about pulling her hand back now but that would feel even more awkward so she just sat tensely, trying to think clearly about stuff she usually tried to think about as little as possible, at least most of the time.

Jen ran her free hand through her hair, brushing a little back behind her ear and stalling for time, taking a sip of her water to cool the heat in her cheeks. "Strippers. Yeah, I saw a male stripper once. A college friend got married and it was her bachelorette party. But I sat in the back, talked mostly. I looked a little, sure but I only stuffed one dollar bill thing, you know, cuz they said we each had to and make a wish for Bonnie and Ray." Jen remembered the feeling of a hard male body she didn't know at all against her knuckles as her fingers had dipped ever so slightly inside the tight thong, how the guy had smiled at her so warmly like he thought making her all warm inside lie that was going to get him a $5 instead of a $1. And hearing how everyone else had hooted and hollered like it was some big deal that super-focused Jen had let loose like that, everyone saying she should have a few more drinks and see what would happen. Of course she hadn't.

"Female strippers though? No, not really. I went into a place near the base back in basic when the guys wanted to go and I didn't want to end up stranded without a ride back to base, but all the things they said about the girls, all the stuff they said they wanted to do to them, by the time we actually went in I spent all my time talking to the girl at the door instead -- she was a sweetheart actually. I couldn't understand what she was doing in a pink teddy selling tickets for ten dollar shots or whatever ridiculous price it was. She actually wanted to go to college too and... oh, sorry, you don't care about that I suppose. As far as the strippers, I couldn't help getting a little peek in some of the mirrors, but I stayed away from what you might call the action, and I'd say I've seen more on TV than I saw with my eyes there."

Jen paused, in case the Sergeant was going to ask more about it, wanting to give him a chance to ask for what was missing if anything rather than call it off before she'd learned anything truly substantial about the WASP program. But he was just listening with disarmingly polite interest, scarcely moving a muscle as he looked at her. "Ok, let's see, posing or doing sex stuff for money. Have I done anything like that? Absolutely not. No. Thought about it?" Her eyebrows went up a little vaguely, her shoulders making a little shrugging gesture. "I mean, I thought about it right now when you asked, right? Just by definition."

She stared at her plate, wishing that would be enough to cover up the nuances she didn't really want to have to explain. "Look, sure, I've thought about it in the sense anybody might wonder about things they haven't experienced, right? Like at the strip club I just mentioned... I felt sorry for the girls, how the guys treated them like sex objects, just giving them money for being pretty and doing crude things so they could look, and so yeah, there's a part of me -- maybe it's compassion, maybe it's empathy, I don't know, but a part of me -- that at least considered a little bit what it must be like for them, to face all those men. And after my mom's whole schtick about the beauty pageants and my cheekbones and how quote-unquote pretty I was, maybe I wondered for a brief second if men would give me money like that too if I, you know... but that's it. My college was paid for with enough scholarship and grant money so I wasn't, like, paying my way by turning tricks on the weekends or posing for the art department or cliched shit like that."

That wasn't exactly the whole truth but it should be enough for the Sergeant's purposes. She'd gotten more than a few somewhat sleazy modelling offers in college, but not for her tuition, and in the end she'd never gone through with any of them even if she had called back for more information a couple times.

Jen was trying not to feel defensive, to remember the Sergeant was on her side, but she could fee her cheeks were hot and her hands tensed up from trying to justify her answer.

"And have I ever been offered money for anything sexual? Sheesh, Sarge, did you even go to basic or were you so amazing on the first day they just let you skip straight to Sergeant? I could have retired on the money the guys offered me. I don't even know if they were serious or just trying to get me upset so I'd hit them and get myself thrown in the brig, but I just ignored them, each and every one. Same as I did in college when some frat guys gave me a hard time walking home from the library one night, offering me a thousand dollars to do them all and then laughing that I had considered it -- which I did not." At least not for more than a second, and they couldn't possibly have known that. "They were drunk, a drunken bunch of pigs. And in high school too, a few times when I missed the bus home from ROTC after school and had to walk home after dark -- we lived close to some not-nice parts of town. Drunken men can be animals, Sarge, you have to know that obviously. Not you I mean but, well, men. But I've learned to ignore them. I got mad the first few times and ended up grateful I was on the track time, but I learned to ignore them."

Jen was breathing even harder, like her body was on alert, like she had bared to much and felt way more vulnerable than she could deal with. She knew the Sergeant was really trying to help her, letting her get used to the counseling thing and letting her earn some information at the same time, but she felt so exposed with her guard down like this, having to talk about stuff she really didn't want to face that she couldn't help feeling embarrassed and anxious under his unnervingly calm gaze. "Well? Did I expose enough of myself for you Sarge? Are you satisfied? Do my morals measure up? And what if... what if my dad's insurance ran out and we needed money for his treatments, what if I had actually considered posing nude, or giving a few blow jobs to pay for his dialysis?" It had been touch and go a few times while she was in school and had to rely on her mom to fight with the insurance company. Jen had been tempted by the offers more than a few times, not to have sex for sure, but to pose in a bikini or less -- not for tuition, but for her dad's bills, yes. "Would that disqualify me from WASP? Do you ask this stuff from the male recruits... well, not to WASP but to other courses?" Jen was breathing a little harder and trying to relax, not to blame the Sergeant, but it was hard. He was probably just following orders, so she would too, but she didn't like the orders.

 

[littlerooster]

Holding her hand he brings it up to his lips and kisses it tenderly. His questions have triggered a deep place of hurt within her and yet she has still answered anyway, she has challenged herself and has been open with him when she could have lied to a great extent without him ever knowing about. He does not want to meet her anger with hurt and aggressive feelings of his own. He decides to show compassionate force with his response and kisses her hand. He sees you are trying to fight back tears and is challenged to fight back his own.

He knew she was now once again doubting herself, playing things over and over in her mind, trying to work out why these questions were being asked, what purpose did they serve and what did any of it have to do with killing the enemy. He wanted to tell her more, he hoped that maybe he could drop some more hints with her.

"You are doing really well Jennifer, I know these questions are difficult. I know that when your father's medical bills were racking up you would have been tempted or thought about selling yourself in some way to make more money. I understand that, I think that many people male or female think about doing something sexual to make some fast cash. I don't think less of you for that Jennifer" he reassured her, her hand still in both of his as they sat there in the little cafe.

"And no, even if you did those things for cash, it would not disqualify you for WASP, ok?" he reassured her again.

"I know you don't like this, but it allows you and I to get some practice in, allows us to explore topics and will help us, especially you in the training" he advised her.

"You know, I don't like this 3:1 rule, you have bared your soul and I want it to be fairer, mind you fair stops the moment we get to camp. But until then, you get to ask 3 questions ok, 3 for 3 how does that sound?" he wanted to reward her, to keep her interested.

"So Jennifer, which 3 questions would you like to ask about me or the training?" he said sitting back in his chair.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen's eyes were wide, locked on his as she sat nursing her feelings of vulnerability, discomfort and annoyance. Maybe the Sergeant was going to get mad at her, maybe she'd spoken out of line -- he was still a Sergeant after all, even here -- but it was hard for Jen to imagine taking any of it back, even the revelations as much as they embarrassed her. Maybe he needed to better understand her, to see her for who she was rather than the GI Jane she tried so hard to present to everyone else, maybe then they might fit together for whatever the tough training he thought was ahead of her really turned out to be in the end.

But the Sergeant didn't talk of court martial or pick nits with her answers. His eyes seemed luminous as he looked back at her, reflecting all the diner's light around them like they were the slightest bit damp, shiny. His hand brought hers up and she mostly relaxed it, not sure what he was doing until his lips actually contacted the top of her hand. It was a gesture so out-dated that Jen had never actually experienced it except in ironic jest, and yet in the moment it made her heart swell as she felt the Sergeant kiss her hand so soft. Maybe it was the unexpected sight of such a powerful man being so sensitive and gentle, or maybe it was just how open and exposed his questions had left her emotions, but a small smile slowly crept across her lips in nervous little fits and starts, until he finally lowered her hand back to the table, still in his.

He warmed her heart even more, telling her how well she had done to answer, and how difficult he knew the questions were for her, how difficult her dad's situation had been for her. Well, not for her but for Jennifer. Ok, for her. She was Jennifer too, at least with Sarge, and maybe just a little in her memories of her mother. It felt so good to feel the Sergeant this pleased with her answer, like getting a perfect score on a history test, being called Jennifer didn't really bother her at all.

The Sergeant went further, unexpectedly telling her that even if she had done something, well, any of those things she'd been offered money for, it wouldn't have disqualified her. He skipped right past this point like it was some minor reassurance, and maybe it was somewhat reassuring yes, but it also stuck in her head.

Apparently she had answered well enough, though, that he was happy with their counselor-counselee progress, and it was clear he felt the practice really was important. She couldn't tell if he was just being nice, or if she had earned it as some kind of reward, but she definitely felt the warmth of positive feedback as he offered to fix the unfair 3:1 ratio. Jen nodded, still smiling as he offered her a fair ratio -- for now at least, until they got to camp, where presumably things would be unfair again, but when had military training every worried about fairness? "Thanks, Sarge, that'd be great."

But then her mind suddenly went blank. Given just a paltry single question to ask, her mind had been overflowing with questions and her challenge had been to decide which one was important enough to ask. Now with three times as many questions at her disposal, it felt like a struggle to think of them. Or maybe feeling her hand in his, their knees still lightly pressed together under the table, her mind, warmed by his approval, wasn't working quite the way it had been when they started.

"Ok, well, three huh? Let's see." Her eyes didn't meet his now, almost as awkward as on a date with him holding her hand, but she didn't pull it away. It felt good, like a fantasy peek at what something like this could feel like if she'd chosen a different path. She knew it would end in a day, just a small oasis in time with him that wouldn't mean much in the long run of her life and career except maybe encouraging him to better help her through her upcoming training -- was that all this was? She looked at the table, trying to ignore the doubt and just stay in the warmth of the moment.

"I'd like to know what happens to anyone who drops out. Is there a secondary program, or some sort of support option? Would, you know, would you still be involved with that too?" Maybe Jane Bond would need a sniper support team? She didn't know. But then she almost immediately regretted the question, worried it made her sound like she was mentally preparing to quit just because he kept emphasizing how hard it would be for her, how concerned he was.

And she realized her first question might have sounded like three questions so she hurried to correct that. "Second..." She reached mentally for the thought she was trying to tease out, running her free hand through her hair while her eyes looked for her question as if it was written on the Sergeant's forehead. "You said if I'd accepted money for sexual stuff or whatever, even if it was found out, that I wouldn't be disqualified from WASP. How could that be? Isn't that against reg? How could WASP turn a blind eye to blatant admissions of misconduct?"

As she thought about a third question, she realized as soon as she asked it she'd be exposed to three more of his, and she felt too emotionally wiped from revealing so much of herself already to go through that so soon again, just wanting to stay in this moment with him, feeling the comfort of having done well and not having to face the next challenging questions until she could catch her emotional breath a little. "Can I save my third question for after dessert? I'm sure I'll have more I want to know about you, I mean from you, on the walk home, to the hotel that is." The hotel wasn't home, but with him holding her hand, feeling together, the fantasy of the date had momentarily mixed her up, like this was more than officer and recruit practicing for some grueling training and support.

 

[littlerooster]

He watched her with a smile, he knew that the soft approach was working, he wondered if Jen had ever allowed a man to treat her like a woman, if she had ever let her guard down long enough to feel what she was feeling now. Or perhaps she had waited her whole life for a romantic brute like the Sergeant to come along and knock her defences down and just put her in her womanly place, to make her accept that she was overpowered, physically and emotionally, that she was safe in her vulnerability.

Most of all though and most importantly to WASP training, that in her vulnerability she could disable a man. Right now the way she was looking at him, the way she was behaving. He wanted to give away the whole plot, to just hand her the WASP training manual, to hand her every secret behind the whole mission, the whole purpose. He wanted to divulge everything.

He wanted to tell her to run.

So he sat back and awaited her 3 questions, the 3 questions that would perhaps if she asked wisely enough would allow her more of an insight into the training program.

He could see that she was unsure of what to ask, that perhaps 3 questions was more difficult than 1, that perhaps she didn't want to know too much until the course started, that maybe knowing too much would make her quit before the course started.

She seemed happy with her reward though, happy that she had done well enough to be treated like an equal, these rewards would be everything to Jen he thought, ever the A grade student.

Their knees were pressing against each other under the table, everything felt far more like a date, the heavy sexual talk, the nervousness, the awkward feeling of not knowing what would come next, if this was an actual date he would be feeling confident about sex tonight for sure. It had that feeling about it, of course he wouldn't, it wouldn't feel right and he's professionalism wouldn't allow it, of course if she stayed with the course, he would be doing sexual things with her, but that would be training, yes training he said to himself.

She was ready to ask the first question. What happens to women who drop out, is there a second chance she asked.

Smiling at her for a moment he started his answer.

"All the women are military, they would return to their normal units, their usual jobs, they would not be WASP's they would not have a chance to take up secondary roles within WASP, of course if their usual army job entails them to support WASP in some way then that would happen, but simply no, they will not have another chance to be a WASP. And no, once they leave I no longer have a role with them" he answered grimly, he knew that she was hoping there would be a second chance, or a chance to still work with him somehow, but leaving was just that, leaving.

He waited for question two, which came soon after.

She asked why it was ok if she answered that she had accepted money for sex, as this misconduct.

"Well, accepting money for sex doesn't mean that you would have accepted it in the army, we aren't living in a fairy tale with WASP, we know women do things for money, for men, we know that people need money and will do things for it. What if I told you that there are a couple of women who will be taking part in the WASP training that have worked as strippers? That one was a hooker before joining the army? Would that make them unsuitable to be special forces soldiers?" he answered smiling at her.

He watched as she processed and then she paused and waited, she said she would like to hold off on her 3rd question, until after dessert at least. He nodded but he knew that she was trying a delaying tactic on him as well, that she was hoping to delay the next volley of questions that he fired at her.

"Sure, you can wait until after dessert, I will ask mine now though" he smiled cheekily and gave her a wink as if to imply that he knew what she was up to.

"So question one, what do you think of women who work as strippers, hookers and porn stars?" he asked.

"Question two, if saving your country meant having sex with a stranger would you?"

"And question three, what..." he paused for dramatic effect.

"..would you like for dessert?" he asked, wanting to keep it flirty again, he would make it a freebie, an easy one, he moved his knee a little as he laughed and it brushed against hers as he did so.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen felt pretty proud of herself for coming up with her little stalling tactic, the delayed third question. It was the kind of thinking that kept her at the top of her class in high school, and pretty near the top in college as well. She kind of enjoyed the look on the Sergeant's face as he thought it through, like she might have scored a small point in this little game of his.

It gave her a few seconds to process his answers to her first two questions as well. It was hard for her to hide the disappointed look on her face at his first answer. If things didn't work out there was no fall back position in the program, no plan B. She'd pretty much be sent back to her old life with nothing but a new stain of failure to show for her effort here. And she'd probably never see the Sergeant again, not that it mattered really, of course, but it was a little disappointing as she'd started to think of him as someone it was good for her to be around. He gave her a different sense of herself than she'd ever really had before. She gave a mental shrug, filing the information away in her head in the "well-you'd-better-not-screw-up-then" bin.

His second answer was confounding though. How could they consider filling a special forces unit with women like he described? As Jen mentally ticked off the intel she'd gathered so far in various ways from the Sergeant, all she could say about the final composition of the elite WASP unit was that it would be filled with women who were hookers and strippers, women who were unarguably gorgeous -- herself included apparently, she thought with half a smile -- and who knew how to rock a pair of heels. The more she thought about it the more strange it seemed, and the harder it got for her to understand what this training was going to be, since her qualifications as a soldier seemed to have nothing to do with her inclusion in the program.

Jen shook her head at his trailing questions embedded at the end of his "hooker answer," not sure if he was asking them rhetorically or not, but going along with his narrative that of course a hooker should be as qualified for special forces as anyone else. Her brain struggled with his point, wondering how the life-experience of a hooker, mostly spent on her back taking any and all comers between her legs for a little cash, could compare to a college degree and an exemplary lifetime record of accomplishment including special merit in several units in Basic. But the Sergeant made it seem like a moot point, a done deal, like whores and strippers were the new snipers in this unit, and if she wanted to fit in she'd somehow have to make accommodation or she might not fit in herself. Was this the first real test of the training? To make sure she could accept working side by side with that kind of woman? She hoped she passed. Of course she could. It was just that she didn't want her own qualifications cheapened by the comparison, rendering all her hard work to make her dad proud like some sort of second-best, pale imitation of a whore's hands-on training.

At least he was still smiling with her. The Sergeant's smile turned almost playful in an attractive way and he winked as he agreed to her holding her question but insisted on taking his next set immediately nonetheless. Jen couldn't help a small defeated sigh as she shrugged in agreement. What did it matter, they were just questions? But exposing herself to the Sergeant so completely, even though she liked and respected him, was wearying and left her on the constant edge of emotional discomfort, on edge and unsure what to expect next. She'd hoped for at least a small break to absorb the meaning of this strange morning and afternoon's events. But apparently the Sergeant didn't believe in pausing to regroup. He'd decided to forge ahead, and therefore she had no choice but to forge ahead with him.

She let him ask all three before saying a word. By now the sexual element of his first question was no surprise, rather expected actually as Jen had just come to think of this as some kind of teenaged game of truth-or-dare, a risque game being played more as a slightly risque and flirtation ice-breaker rather than a true exchange of military information. It was hard to focus on finding the meaning behind his questions when they seemed so disconnected from anything she could understand about an elite military unit, when they seemed more designed for the Sergeant to decide if he wanted to sleep with her than whether she was worthy for him to bother training.

His first question about her attitudes toward whores and strippers and porn stars was followed quickly by asking how far she would go to save her country, and then she sat breathlessly waiting for the third question, sure it would be even worse than the first three, something lewd and inconceivably crude, and the Sergeant seemed to enjoy making her sit on pins and needles waiting for it, wondering how bad it would be and whether she'd be able to open herself enough to answer this new level of intimate interrogation too.

And then he turned his ominous third question into a flirtatious query for what she wanted for dessert, his gentle teasing smirk and easy laugh breaking through her tension while the movement of his knee against hers created all manner of new tension in Jen, as he finally openly acknowledged their previously unspoken physical contact, sitting so close together. But it had been one thing to have knees touch so accidentally, just accepting it because that's what happens when two people have to lean in close for a private conversation in a public place. It had been a little daring and yes maybe a tiny bit sexy. But it was another thing entirely to have a man clearly aware of what he was doing pretty much playing footsie with her under the table, only with their whole legs and not just the toes of their heavy boots.

Still, through the slight awkward shy smile that crept on her face as her legs were pushed back and forth a little bit by the movements of his massive leg against hers, Jen couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her, like he'd popped the big heavy balloon she'd felt hovering over her from all the previous questions. The first two were forgotten for the moment as all she could think about suddenly was having dessert with the Sergeant, and the fact that she wasn't pulling her legs back indignantly but actually kind of enjoying the contact, and the attention.

Jen had never been very good at flirting, inexperienced at playing the coy game of pursuing male attention. But as she looked back to him, just the very slightest hint of color in her cheeks, something about sitting with the Sergeant's easy humor and vast self-confidence made it come easily to her. She was surprised at the little extra look she gave him with her eyes, the precise curl she gave her lips, even aware she was smiling precisely enough to show off her dimples without stretching her lips too thin and wondering how in the world her brain put all that together in this one warm little moment.

"Well Sarge, I know it was my suggestion but I don't usually have dessert, not for lunch at least. But," she started lightly, letting it linger, letting him wait for something too now. Her eyes danced back and forth unconsciously but playfully across his face as if there was some facial expression analyzer in her head that wanted to take in every curve of his face, the set of his eyes, the perfection of his jaw, absolutely everything. Finally she went on with a little smile, "if you were to order something for yourself, something chocolate, or especially caramel, well... I suppose I could be convinced to share a bite of yours -- assuming you're the kind of guy who shares, I know a lot of guys aren't big on sharing." She smiled at him, strangely comfortable even though she knew she was flirting openly, almost wildly at least for her. But it was a game, and games had rules, and the Sergeant seemed to play by the rules, and even though this game's rules left her a little uncomfortable, she was finding it was a discomfort that was growing on her, and he made it feel safe, made her feel like she could handle it. Maybe he would be a good counselor after all.

"While you're thinking about that," and she gave a little movement of her leg against his now, trying to let him for once be the one confused about what she thought he should be thinking about for a change, "I'll take a shot at your first two questions."

Both questions were sexual again, but a little less personal, or at least less revealing, so for some reason she felt she could answer them a little easier. Asking about her theoretical future actions didn't make her feel as vulnerable as talking about her deepest self, about her most intimate secrets. Still, her body felt the tension of dancing with him around the topic of sex for two more questions as she answered.

"Hookers and strippers and porn stars and all them? What do I think of them?" They would be her unit-mates apparently, so she was starting to understand. "Look, that's not what I was raised to be, not by a longshot. I was raised to work hard and accomplish things based on the merit of my deeds." At least that was how her dad raised her. Her mom did too, sort of, when she wasn't pushing her to be a model or an actress, which wasn't so far really from one of the women he was walking about. "But I was also raised to try to be accepting of all kinds of people. This man's army is filled with all races and creeds and classes, my dad always said, and we all storm the hill together. So yeah, it might take a little getting used to but I'm fine with them. If it's hard for me to totally respect them like maybe you'd like, maybe hard for me sometimes to put aside the fact they base their lives on using their bodies rather than their minds, well, still, I can accept them as humans and fellow soldiers if that's what it comes down to."

The Sergeant wasn't looking at the dessert menu, just in her eyes, making her squirm a little in her seat, and Jen wondered if she had the dessert menu memorized or if he just didn't care about it compared to listening to her. She had to acknowledge she really wanted that to be true, to have this man hanging on her every word a thought suddenly more delicious to her than any dessert he might share with her.

"As far as saving my country?" She suddenly felt her patriotism ignited without dimming the electricity between them one bit. It was like some of her dad's old questions whenever she said how much she wanted to be like him, asking her if she'd be willing to eat field rations of worms and ants if that's what it took to survive and complete a mission. "Of course I'd do whatever it takes, wouldn't you?" She'd meant it more as a reference to his obvious prior service than a question of whether he'd have sex with someone to save his country -- with her? -- realizing only after she'd already dragged him into her sexual speculation that she'd subtly implied something else well beyond what she'd meant to say. "I mean... well, of course you've done... uh, on the battlefield, not.... but I would too." Keep it on herself, leave him out of it. With his knee grazing hers, it was hard not to blush talking about him and her and sex, accidentally implying too much. "I mean, Sarge, I would do anything to save my country." Eat ants and worms. Sex with a stranger. "Anything."

There was a short awkward silence as she searched the table top for her lost composure. The table was so small suddenly. And the lunch crowd was starting to fill the restaurant, making her feel like she needed to lean in even closer to the Sergeant to answer these sorts of things without being overheard. Jen looked around and then said softly to him, but loud enough to be heard over the growing mumble of the crowded room, "If you want to order dessert, maybe we could order it to go and share it back in the room. It's just... too crowded here, don't you think?" She didn't really leave room for any other possibility. And of course he would share it with her. That she was pretty sure she could see in the way he was looking at her.

 

[littlerooster]

He could tell that she felt proud of her stalling tactic, that him about to ask his set of questions anyway would rock her world a little, he was really liking he now, he wanted to flirt and tease her more than actually fuck her around as such. He wasn't wanting to do the full head shrinker routine on her. He could of course but the upcoming course would do that enough, she needed the tools to be able to cope with it all. That was how he saw his role now, to support her in her choices.

Their knees were still touching under the table, the tone of their meeting more like a date, the flirty answers, the game of cat and mouse with the questions and answers, the truth or dare feel to the whole thing.

She listened to all his questions before answering them. She started to flirt regarding the dessert question, does he share, can they take it back to the room, it was as good as saying 'when are we going to fuck', of course he didn't take it that way but it sure felt like it. He could feel himself getting hard again at her attention at her soft gestures and hints, it was nice and it was a good sign that she knew how to flirt. Then she went on to answer the first question telling him that she was basically ok with whores and strippers, the politically correct answer, he could see she was confounded by that question, she was wondering if all her team mates would be whores.

He kept eye contact with her while she answered, yes it was a safe but still most likely true answer. Then she answered his second one, telling him that yes she would have sex with a stranger if it meant saving her nation, she asked if he would as well. She alluded to be willing to do more than that, to do anything at all, of course this would all be put to the test come course time, this would all be put into play. And training or not it would be very real.

He smiled at her as she finished answering.

"Well Jennifer, I can assure you that not all your camp mates will be ex whores and strippers, some yes but not all. And all of them regardless of their pasts are qualified soldiers, some with much more qualifications and experience than you have. So don't panic in regards to that." he wanted her to know that it was a serious course, serious training with serious soldiers even though it was as far as possible from what she was imagining.

"Secondly, would I have sex with a stranger to save my country? A female one, maybe, a male one, most likely not I dread to say, to quote a French woman from World War II, my heart belongs to my country but my ass is mine! I think it is different for men too though, I mean women put a lot more emotion into sex, it means more to them, a man can fuck and just walk away without even caring what the woman does next, so I think for a woman to have sex with a stranger it takes a lot more than for a man to do the same." he answered her, giving her more information that was required, changing gear a little from interview to discussion.

"Now, dessert, yes I share and ok lets take it back to our room" he said as he looked over the menu.

He summoned the waitress and ordered a coconut cream pie to go, when the waitress returned with it, he paid and got up.

"So back to the room for dessert and to hear your third question?" he asked.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen, or Jennifer as the Sergeant kept calling her, sat and listened as he answered the two questions she'd given him so far. Her mind was on his answers for sure, because the whole point of this exercise was to help her get the information she needed to understand how to succeed in her training. But there was a part of her head off to the side that was very aware of the little things having nothing to do with her questions or her training, like the fact neither of them had pulled their legs back from touching each other, or the way the Sergeant's eyes gleamed with such unexpected intelligence as he leaned toward her for each answer.

She was already feeling a little... warm from these little details and the lingering sense memory of his big hand on hers, so the way he worked to make his answers so reassuring, like he really cared about her, just had her smiling a little, her eyes glancing all over his face and dipping to the table to where his hand lay once again so very close to her own. It was so utterly irrelevant to her success in camp -- unless she believed... no, it was just irrelevant -- but she found herself thinking more about his large hand, the veins and strength of his fingers and how it would feel if he would take her hand in his again, than thinking about the makeup of her training mates he was actually talking about.

She nodded a little to let him know she was paying attention, or trying to at least. She would be training with some whores and strippers, ok, but they wouldn't all be like that, and Jen imagined once things got, well, "serious" any under-qualified women would drop out pretty quick. Except the Sergeant seemed to think even those women were totally qualified too. It felt like her mind was getting stretched into new dimensions she'd never known were there, trying to wrap her head around the idea of women like that being competent soldiers too.

But her nod was genuine and she gave him what she hoped was a sort of professional set to her mouth and jaw, like she could work with anyone, that she was trained to be a cog in a machine, not a primadonna. The primadonnas hadn't done too well in basic and ended up spending more time in the infirmary than training.

What was it about hearing the Sergeant talk about having sex with a stranger that perked up her ears though? Certainly he'd talked about sex around her numerous times already, usually in lewd or lascivious terms that had almost no effect on her other than to make her want to get her real training started so she wouldn't have to listen to it. Waitresses and lingerie. Well, there had been the talk about his love for Laura, that had moved her. But why now? What was different? She couldn't quite place it as she leaned in a little closer to catch every word. It was no surprise, his focus on having sex with female strangers in particular, she'd somehow expected nothing else from him, and yet hearing it in his voice, seeing his eyes look back at her while he talked about it and not at the waitress, it affected her differently.

She thought about what he said, about men being able to have sex and walk away, where it was so much more complicated for women. Did he know that was how she'd tried to have things? To try to keep men at a distance, to find the pleasure a coupling could deliver but not get caught up in the entanglements emotional and otherwise that could cut very possibly short circuit her career. She'd tried, and given up. It didn't work. There was the expectation of the men, who somehow just couldn't see her as "that kind of girl" and somehow thought there was supposed to be more between them. And there was her own heart that struggled with trying to pretend she really was "that kind of girl." She'd done it, but in the end it had cost almost as much emotional effort for her as the normal relationships she was trying to avoid. So she'd just cut it off completely, talking a good game in basic to fit in with the guys, but really having done nothing for several years now. Her nod at the Sergeant's point was in earnest agreement, almost like it was a relief for her to hear someone explain so clearly what she'd been feeling for so long, her eyes thoughtfully probing his own deep gaze to see how a man like him came to understand things like that.

Jen sat, her body tense and strangely nervous, like she didn't know what was next, and she kept her hand in the middle of the table just, well, just because. But the Sergeant broke out in a smile and all he grabbed was a menu. She sat watching him, quietly studying him, the way his eyes flicked across each line in the menu like he was taking it all in as fast as he could see it, his brow looking decisive like he knew what he want immediately. The waitress came back almost the moment he summoned her, like she'd been waiting for an excuse to come to the table, but Jen dismissed the thought as crazy and, well, maybe jealous. But it was pointless. There was nothing between them, she could tell from the way his body language stayed with her direction, the way his eyes returned to her immediately after ordering the coconut cream pie.

Coconut cream pie. Jen frowned playfully and stuck her tongue out at him. "Nothing chocolate?" Her frown disappeared immediately and she turned toward the waitress who was already heading back to the kitchen. "Charlotte?" She'd noticed her nametag. "Charlotte?" The waitress turned with a smile toward her. Katherine actually liked her, nice girl Charlotte. "Could you add a small container or two of chocolate sauce on the side, just in case? Thank you so much." The waitress nodded and was gone.

Jen turned back to the Sergeant, their knees still touching, like they were playing a game of intimacy chicken and she was playing the game of her life. She could feel her cheeks a little warm still, especially as there was an awkward little silence, so much talk of sex in the air and filling Jen's head that she was having a hard time thinking of anything else to talk about. Possible third questions for later flitted through her head, but they were all sexual or personal, and more about the Sergeant himself than her training per-say, so she let them all go, feeling her heart beating faster and faster the longer she sat with nothing to occupy her but her own uncomfortable thoughts. She let her neat fingernails drum the table top once or twice, just in case, maybe...

But the waitress came back already with their dessert, as if she kept a few Styrofoam containers with pie and chocolate sauce always at the ready for just such occasions. Jen sighed with something close to disappointment, but smiled her thanks to the girl as the Sergeant took the pie from her.

He stood up and dropped some money on the bill, and Jen hoped he tipped generously. It looked like it but it didn't feel right to peek at the bill or the money. Jen stood up beside the Sergeant as he announced his intentions of dessert and her third question back in the room. The words "the room" sounded in Jen's ears like "our room" which was exactly how they'd treated it so far, and she scarcely gave it a second thought, except to realize the night before he'd barely been there and slept only in a chair, and Jen carefully avoided thinking about that part. Cross bridges only when you have to, her dad had always told her. He'd meant it literally, but the lesson suited her at the moment and she just put it out of her mind.

"That sounds like an excellent plan Sarge." They walked to the door, side by side, and she was very aware of his big presence beside her. He opened the door for her, the unasked for chivalry especially sticking out, not something she'd experienced with any of the guys in Basic even once, and really only come across it from some of her early attempts at dating and from watching movies. She smiled and dipped her head just a little shyly in thanks as she scooted past him.

Out on the street, walking in the direction even she could tell now was headed for their room, the Sergeant had the dessert in the hand on the other side of her, his free hand swinging beside her with each step he took. Her steps drifted a little closer to him, until their arms accidentally brushed a few times, like they were close and it was normal for them to touch. Well, it was wasn't it? After all that time with his knee against hers, taking her hand? Wasn't this normal for... for... friends as close as they were now, after all they'd shared? Jen found her hand lifted, just on the verge of slipping it through the crook in his arm, and she stopped herself. Stop, she told herself. Friends. It wasn't a date, not a real one. Friends, he wasn't her date, they weren't lovers or anything like that. It was too far. She looked up at him a little sheepish, hoping her little moment passed by unnoticed lest she end up being the only woman ever thrown out of an army program for sexual harassment.

 

[littlerooster]

He studied her as he spoke about men being able to have sex without being emotionally involved and how women seemed to take it far more seriously, well at least some women did, there were many sluts out there that didn't care, that just wanted to have sex and get the guy out of bed ASAP, he wasn't sure if Jen could be one of those women, one of those women who avoided intimacy and would use men as they used women and sometimes a truly innocent person gets harmed somewhere along the way. He wondered if indeed there was more than just met the eye with this daughter of a soldier, this woman who wanted to be for as long as she breathed air into her lungs, wanted to be not just a soldier, but a combat soldier, a killer, who dreamt of long range reconnaissance patrols and wanted nothing more than to be something her father would look up to, to finally have his approval.

He wondered what her father would think, of her daughter being a honey trap, woman who would lure men to their deaths with the scent of her dripping cunt, would that be what he wanted for her little girl.

As Nathaniel kept listening he started to change his view on Jen, he saw her less as a vulnerable little girl and more as a woman who might just make it all the way through WASP, he thought of her learning to strip and giving him lap dances, of watching her suck cock on command in the camp as male soldiers yelled out "Show us your tits" and she would have to comply or fail, he thought about her having to have a gang bang for her final test, and he finally started to think that she would actually do all these things, he doubted her before but now it seemed more possible, more like something she would actually do.

He placed his hand on her thigh, their knees still touching, he used his thumb to stroke her thigh, she was wearing her cammie trousers, it wasn't her bare flesh but it still felt good, it felt good to sit there and be touching her, they had spoken about a lot of intimate acts and feelings, why wouldn't he want to touch her, if she didn't like it she could say as much, but until then he would touch her.

He ordered the coconut cream pie and she made comments about chocolate, she wanted some chocolate on the side just in case, he smiled at her as the waitress walked off, he looked at her deeply in her eyes, he squeezed her thigh hard but not hard enough to hurt, more like an act of encouragement like the way a coach pats a football player on the arse, he never got that, sexual harassment as encouragement and yet he was doing the same thing here.

The waitress returned with the pie and extra chocolate on the side and he paid for the bill, tipping generously, they got up and he looked at her once more in regards to his comments about "their room" he knew she wanted to ask for the key to 'her room' and until she did she would not get the key, he also wanted her to wonder what might happen in "their room" what was she thinking he wondered as he smiled slyly to himself, feeling quite proud of what he had accomplished with her.

Leaving he opened the door of the cafe for her so they could leave and they slowly walked back to the ominous room. They walked a while and brushed into each other more than a few times, eventually he decided to say 'fuck it' again and put his arm around her, he pushed her to him tight, semi like a buddy hug but more like a hug that could be called a buddy hug if she did protest, they walked along and made it back to the room.

He opened the door and waited for her to enter first.

"So, any more thoughts to that question?" he asked her.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen continued walking next to him, close enough to touch, close enough she was tempted a few more times still to just hook her arm in his, but it just didn't feel right, too forward, like a step beyond their friendship even though she was just feeling close to him. It really should be no big deal. After all, the Sergeant had even touched her knee, she'd felt it clearly, his finger or thumb rubbing her leg through her cammies for a second, as if he'd meant to do it to himself but somehow just taken a wrong turn. And she'd said nothing.

It felt so strange, being close enough to someone that she'd let that happen. If one of the guys back in basic had done that, she'd have popped him. Maybe they'd both end up with a week on the mop, but she'd quickly understood she had to make a clear impression on the rest of the guys, that she was all business. But was she? She felt like there was more than just business with the Sergeant, and it worried her. Could she really afford to drop her guard like this right before starting the most difficult training of her life? Even the Sergeant wanted her to drop out now, worried what it would do to her.

Jen was more worried what he was doing to her. And still, as they chatted on the walk home, she couldn't help looking up at him beside her from time to time as she listened. She liked the sight of him beside her. Something about him made her feel safer. Maybe that was why she was taking so many emotional chances.

But it seemed to be working, so as nervous as it made her Jen decided to stay the course. Obviously she would keep herself from doing anything stupid, but being open with him seemed to be getting her information and possibly even an ally in the upcoming training camp, so what harm could it do, really?

They turned a corner, their hips bumping a little and she felt a little thrill ripple through her. Before her face even had time to blush a little from such a strong reaction to just that simple touch, she felt his arm around her shoulder, then just the slightest tug toward him, drawing her hip right back against him, fully side by side now, feeling his body against hers with every step. Jen was speechless, her heart pounding. It felt so natural and good to be this close to him, protected under his arm, a part of her hoped they'd never reach their room. But her arm, the one that had been so close to slipping into the crook of his elbow, now fluttered a little indecisively behind and beside him, not knowing what to do.

She couldn't stop herself, a deep breath and just settling into what he had started, letting her arm go around his waist, her fingers at his belt on the far side, feeling the strength of each of his strides play out in the muscles right beneath her hand. It sent another thrill through her, only this time it was no accident, and it wasn't just a single brief moment. Jen looked around a little at the people they passed, wondering how many of them thought the two of them were lovers and not just, well, close friends.

The Sergeant was talking so amiably it was easy to fall into the fantasy that this was the end of a perfect date, a date she'd never actually experienced in real life, what it would be like to be walked home by an amazing guy, so comfortable she could relax against him with his arm around her. All the movies, all the awkward moments when the two leads on their first date stood at the doorway trying to negotiate that first kiss came back to her. Kiss the Sergeant? She had to remind herself this was just close friendship, a bond of emotional intimacy more like a therapist that a date. She had to keep it straight in her head or she could end up in trouble.

They reached the door of the hotel which he swung open for her with his free hand, and as she nodded with a smile and a soft thank you, she stepped through, feeling his arm drop from her shoulders as he was too broad shouldered to walk through at the same time. But he caught up to her as she walked the hall and waited for the elevator to their floor. He stood right beside her in front of the elevator doors watching the numbers counting down. Close enough to put his arm around her again. Jen waited, almost holding her breath, craving that warm safe exciting feeling again, until finally she just slipped her arm back around his waist. The door opened just at that moment before she could tell whether he was going to return the gesture, but at least he hadn't said anything negative.

They stepped in, her arm dropping as they turned around. No one else was in the elevator as the doors shut and she let him punch in their floor. The silence was palpable and her heart was pounding. She could feel the warmth of her hip so close to his, her arm just yearning to wrap around him again, but it would be too much for her to do that again. Jen could almost imagine his breath against her face in the little elevator and wondered where that weird thought came from, and where it was going. Her body was tense and she stared intently at his blurred reflection in the brushed metal door, unable to see his expression, only that he stood so very close to her and didn't move away one bit. She moved her hand a little, letting it brush against the back of his like it was an accident, feeling the contact in just about every nerve in her body.

But once again before that accidental touch could lead anywhere, before he could return it or tell her to stop harassing him, or whatever he was thinking, the door binged and opened. She stood still, as if reluctant to leave his side in the elevator, until finally he led the way out and she followed. Down the hall they walked, only Jen didn't trust herself to walk beside him now, her face to red with how she was feeling, and with the little chances she'd taken and with their uncertain results.

The Sergeant fished the key out of his pocket and Jen imagined herself in another nearby universe fishing it out for him, then closed her eyes and wished that thought away as she heard him getting the door unlocked and open. She opened her eyes and he was looking right at her, holding it open for her, and reminding her it was time for her third question.

Jen gave a small uncomfortable cough and covered it with her hand, more to hide her slight blush than anything else, and stepped past him. She stopped at the separating wall between the bedroom and the sitting room, leaning back against it with her purchase -- the heels -- set down at her feet, and watched him close the door and turn to face her. She was always a leader, the decisive one in high school and college and basic. So why was she having a hard time deciding even where to sit: the little chair next to his computer, the small two-seat couch, or to go sit on the bed. Her brain knew one answer, her heart another, and softer more hidden parts were giving a third entirely different answer she knew had to be wrong. Instead, she just loitered against the wall, looking back at him and hoping uncharacteristically for him to take the lead, to decide what she couldn't, this simple simple thing like where to sit down.

"I... uh..." her question. A good stall, give him a chance to go check his email again, that would decide it. He would sit at the table, she would take one of the couch seats by herself, with him already sitting down. Just ask the question and it would all work out safely. "I want to know..." She wanted to know so very much, but she couldn't let her ask any of the things that were actually on her mind at that moment. Did he have a girlfriend? She assumed not, hoped not, not out of some hope for herself but just because she really hoped he wasn't the time to bed waitresses when he was involved with someone. Had he ever dated a soldier? Not that she cared really, but she was just... curious. She felt a little dizzy with how her world had changes so much in a little time, eager in a way to get to the training, to the world she understood, the world she knew, where she was good old Jen again and not this confusing new Jennifer that she'd become around the Sergeant.

But she couldn't shake the Jennifer feeling, especially not with him looking at her like that. "So, Sarge, with a campful of hookers and strippers, aren't you, uh, are you going to be tempted to... I mean, isn't there a risk of, uh, a risk of you know, well, you're a guy right? With normal guy needs? That's why they invented strippers and prostitutes after all. Aren't you worried you'll kind of... be attracted to... one of the strippers in the course, or one of the other... um... girls and...?" She didn't know how to finish the question, didn't know if she had to. She was blushing intensely, she could feel it, could feel the fancy lingerie he'd bought her too, right under the cammies. So aware of the heels, the gnawing temptation to want to try everything on, the heels too, and model it for him, aching to see in his eyes and elsewhere if he would approve of her.

Where was Jen when Jennifer needed her?

Something about pie. "Er... um... never mind, why don't we, uh, why don't you have your pie and maybe... well, maybe I could be convinced to..." To what?

 

[littlerooster]

Nathaniel was aroused, all the not so stealthy touching was rather exciting
to him, he had always been far more aroused by the idea of things, the
symbolism of physical acts more than the actual act itself, the touching in
the cafe, first just her hand being squeezed, then knees briefly touching
under tables, knees touching and not moving away, it was all very sexy for
Nathaniel, Jennifer had gone from being a GI Jane to something far more
complex and her femininity was shining through which was making her all the
more alluring.

Nathaniel was also starting to understand that her pain stemmed from the
same place his pain came from, he wasn't able to connect with many either,
if it wasn't for his job he would be a strange hermit who lived in his own
mind and would probably lose the power of speech altogether from lack of
usage. She kept people away just like he did, he understood them and yet
didn't understand them or was it that he didn't feel they understood him
and he understood them far too well? Perhaps that was the biggest issue,
the problem of seeing people as strange creatures rather than familiars.

He liked being with her though, just like he liked being with Laura, and
once more as they walked back to the room his mind drifted again, could
Jennifer be his girlfriend, when all of this training was done, would she
want to be his girl, even after the things he would have to put her through
during WASP? Would he want her after she had been used by every male in the
camp? All these thoughts were silly, it wasn't going to happen anyway so
why worry about it, he was just feeling close to her due to the questions
and their time together, after the training they would part ways and that
would be all she wrote.

Still as it stood, his arm around her as they walked to their room after
their lunch, it was all very romantic and pleasant, perhaps this is what
the Colonel wanted, for the trainers to form bonds with some of the
trainees to make the training harder, more personal and hurtful, maybe this
was all part of they study as well, how would women who trusted their
trainers cope with being used by them, cope with having to provide sexual
entertainment for them. No one knew how this would all work out of course
and that was part of intriguing about it.

They reached the door of the room and he held it open for her as she walked
in. There was a nervous tension in the air which he compared to the tension
that hangs in a room when he had ordered a whore in the past. That tension
between two people when they know something sexual will happen, when it is
like expected rather than by chance. There was something different about
Jennifer now, she was more sexual, more confident, he studied her as she
walked in.

Her question came to his mind as she started to speak, her confidence was
shaky, like she wasn't sure if it was the right question or worded the
right way, he noticed that she took the couch by herself after he took the
chair at the table, she was trying to break off a little, a lot had
happened very quickly, he couldn't blame for her that, he was also feeling
the heat of it all, it was intense, he went with it and allowed her some
physical space they had been physically close enough for a while now
anyway.

She continued with her question, finally she started to speak her mind,
although he could tell there were other questions that were brewing within
her brain. He sat and listened as she asked her question, he smiled as she
spoke as if the camp would be full of whores and strippers, she was still
stuck on that, he pondered for a moment before beginning to answer.

She was blushing and he could easily tell that what she really wanted to
know, what she wanted to ask was "Will you like them more then you like
me?" She was jealous and insecure and it was rather endearing, before he
could answer she started to stammer and say not to worry about it, maybe
they could... she didn't finish but he knew she wanted to model for him,
maybe just the shoes, maybe the whole outfit.

He wouldn't let it go though, he wanted to answer her.

With a smile he started, "Well not every woman there will have that
background of course, I know that bothers you as you keep mentioning it,
that's ok, it is quite different I am sure, this entire course is
different, we are all learning. Anyway, I will be professional of course, I
will fulfill my job as a trainer and counselor and I will try and help as
much as I can so that you and the other women pass the course but as this
is a very different course, if a woman wants to quit I will not push them
to stay as I believe it would be morally wrong for me to do that" he
dropped some more hints with his answer, the course was so close now it
hardly mattered to be very cloak and dagger anymore, he let his words hang
as he looked at her staring at the shoes.

"So anyway, what do you think you could be convinced to do? Were you about
to offer to model something for me?" he said with a cheeky grin, knowing
she wanted to model for him.

"Or would you prefer cake first?" he added.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

As the Sergeant stepped over to his laptop and sat down there by himself before answering, Jen sighed a little with relief that he hadn't sat on the couch, not knowing if she would have sat next to him there like some young teenagers on a date. About to make out. It was silly, of course she wouldn't have sat there, but it didn't matter now. She waited for his answer, walking and trying not to let on how wobbly her nervous legs felt even in her boots, and her mind flashed briefly to the heels in the bag by the entrance. She sat down on the couch, hugging one of the arm rests and taking up almost no space on the cushion.

Even more of a relief to Jen, though, was the smile that returned to the Sergeant's face as he started answering finally. It was friendly, warm and personable, but not that smoldering look she didn't think she'd be able to take right now. She wasn't used to this, not having dated much, and what dating she'd done having been mostly with luke-warm boys and college guys she didn't care about much at all other than for a certain athletic flare and energy they were all-to-happy to share with her in bed, one-and-done style. Jen felt like her insides were betraying her outsides, heating her cheeks and making her so jittery her awkward sense of unease had to be plain as day to him, but she hoped he was a professional and ignoring it, or maybe only used to hookers and strippers and wouldn't know what to make of it, like maybe she got some bad salmon.

Jen felt ridiculous with all the weird thoughts bopping about in her head, and a lot of things besides ridiculous too, things she wouldn't have wanted to name outloud, so she reached for the antidote that always worked for her, focus on her work. She narrowed her gaze on the Sergeant, although she couldn't help mirroring his smile a little, his open easy manner too contagious to resist. It would have helped if she had a pad and pen to take notes she could stare at, or if there was a crowd around her so it wasn't just the two of them, but that couldn't be helped so she just did her best, focusing on the meaning of his words, and sifting for the hidden meanings.

He mentioned not all the women she'd be training with would strippers and the way he pointed out that it seemed to bother her made Jen feel a little defensive, as if it was a weak point in her preparation. She looked back at him with a little chastened expression and resolved in her heart that she would not let it bother her again, that she wouldn't even say the word stripper or hooker. The Sergeant reached the part about his role, though, and Jen's studied distance evaporated despite her best efforts. She leaned in a little to his words as he talked about being a trainer and counselor not just for her but the other women too. Of course. She felt stupid and a little annoyed with herself, letting her feelings get carried away, as if the Sergeant would only be there for her. Still it kind of hurt a little, to think she was exposing so much to him, but there was nothing special about this to him, not like for her, that she was just one of the many to him.

Jen tried not to let any disappointment show, knowing how inappropriate it was for her to feel that way anyway. Her painful fixation on the idea of the Sergeant asking his questions from other women and learning as much about them as he had about her was finally distracted by his use of the word "morally." Morally? What was morally right or wrong about quitting or sticking it out in a difficult course? If a stripper, or candidate in general, wanted to drop out because she couldn't handle it, what moral difference did it make whether he encouraged her to stay or go? It wasn't like they were training to be nuns. Or prostitutes. It was special forces, and the only moral question was live or die, right? And that was in their own hands. Being in special forces meant taking responsibility, being in control, making your destiny. She wanted to tell him not to worry about it, that it wasn't his responsibility, but he had already moved on, so she let it drop, but it nagged at the back of her mind.

She noticed he wasn't staring at her now, although he was still smiling. As he asked about her incomplete sentence, wanting to know what she could be convinced to do, he was looking back at the door where she'd dropped the shoe bag. The shoes. It scared her to have her thoughts read like that, to feel like such an open book in front of him, especially when all too many of her thoughts were somewhat embarrassing over the last day or so with him. He asked if she was going to volunteer to model something and her cheeks burned hotter than ever before and she shifted a little uncomfortably on her bottom, hugging the armrest even tighter. The Sergeant looked so cheerful, though, she couldn't tell if he was just teasing, or playing, or flirting or what. Which made it seem very much like flirting, leaving her guessing and feeling very off-balance.

Thankfully he gave her an escape, a get out of high-heels free card. He asked if she prefered cake first instead. Jen stared at the shoes, and then at her boots, thinking about the elegant panties she was wearing under her cammies he didn't even know about. What was going on with her?

Jen looked at his shoes for a few moments as her mind worked on his questions, trying to figure out an answer that could distract from the blush she felt so clearly on her cheeks, and at the same time playing out in one little corner of her head the fantasy of actually modeling the shoes for him and maybe even more, wondering what it would feel like to have him look at her body with approval, maybe desire, to feel the magnetic pull of desire from him. She wanted that very much, she admitted to herself as she put the thought away in the part of her head for "thoughts which shouldn't really happen."

She remembered the game they were playing and couldn't even remember whose turn was next, whether he'd taken his next questions in advance or if this was her third and he got three more now, or what. So she clung to that thought like it was a shovel and used it to start digging her way out of her little pit of embarrassment.

Jen's eyes rose to his, trying to smile casually but the corners of her mouth just feeling too... seductive? It didn't matter, just dig your way out, she thought to herself. "Well, yeah, I guess I could be convinced but..." Why had she left it open? That wasn't the plan! "But, well, you asked about me modeling something, and you asked whether I'd like to start with cake, so, uh, soooooo, I'm just going to go ahead and count those as two of your next three questions!"

Feeling a little clever, feeling like maybe she outsmarted him a little even if he hadn't actually been playing the game at the moment, made it a little easier for her to smile cutely rather than seductively, to tease him with her eyes as if she'd gotten the better of him, just a little. "So you only have one left for this round, or, er... maybe it's the next round, I can't remember."

Why coudn't she remember? Was he going to mark that down in some file, a negative point in her profile for memory trouble? "I mean I can remember, it's just you got me a little flustered with all the modelling.... no, I mean I wasn't flustered I just... I just... why don't we have a bit of cake first and then... then I can talk about the rest." No she couldn't, or at least shouldn't. She was the one supposed to be wrapping him around her little finger, just like she always had in school and in Basic, letting wide-eyed guys fall all over themselves around her if she just smiled enough to let them think there was even a possibility of something, which there really never was.

She stared at his shoes, then looked back longingly to the cake container on the floor next to the shoe bag, realizing only to late what that looked like to him. She got up and hurried over to pick up the cake, to show him that was what she'd been looking at as she carried it slowly back to him. "I hope they gave us two forks." He was close enough to touch her again and tried desperately not to think about that. But as she held out the cake to him with tentative fingers, she just couldn't help imagining his fingers just brushing over hers accidentally as he reached to take it from her, and wasn't even sure she really wanted there to be two forks. What if there were no forks? Her imagination was out of control and she couldn't shut it off and just wanted to sit down again before her knees turned to pudding and she buckled right in front of him. If he would just take the container and offer her one forkful, dipped in a bit of chocolate sauce of course, she could go back to her safe spot on the couch and watch him eat while she planned how to get herself out of the mess her mouth had gotten her into.

 

[littlerooster]

She had come along way, he could see she was growing more confident, he was enjoying this side of her. He could see the WASP soldier manifesting itself, she was starting to get it.

Although she was still very nervous and jittery she was trying to flirt her way out of trouble, to use her femininity as a surgical strike, this was what would be required of a WASP soldier, to overcome without causing damage, killing wouldn't always be the objective, to manipulate, to act as a confidant, that would be the goal. Whether she actually knew it or not, she was more like a WASP now then when she was rattling off the parts that make up the AK-47 assault rifle.

She was still uncomfortable in certain areas, he could see that, the way he spoke of prostitutes and strippers, the morality of dropping out, it all confused her still, but that was ok as she was being forced to contemplate a situation blinded, in other Special Forces outfits men knew what they were signing up for, these women had very little idea, it was only the select few women who were marked for leadership positions like Jennifer that were getting this pre course treatment, some time to bond with their trainer.

And of course this is what he also saw. Jennifer had a crush on him, he could feel it, he could feel her jealousy that he would be sharing these personal discussion with other young attractive women, she saw these times as something special for them. He had to admit, he found them rather special as well. He also knew that as she was his first special assignment that them would always be that special connection between them no matter what.

She started to get flirty again, perhaps from a sense of anxiety, she got a little jumpy and started to talk about the cake and modeling as his two questions, it was a very desperate defence but somehow that just made it more admirable, cuter really, he decided to let it go, to let her have her little victory, this was about building her confidence by rewarding her for when she was on the right path, and her reward this time would be to make her think she had outsmarted him. Even though he knew she hadn't. it didn't matter, he enjoyed her attention as would other men and they would also let her have her way for the cute little girl act she was more than capable of putting on. She just had to realize that, that act would be her most potent weapon.

She got the cake which was sitting in it's container on the floor near the shoes, she had done well with her flirting but there was something else she had to learn. Flirting could get a girl out of trouble but a man will only be teased for so long, eventually Jen would have to do more than just talk and look pretty.

He watched as she flustered around some more, unsure of her role, what she should be doing, if she had taken everything a few steps too far.

She was looking about as he noticed there was only one fork for the cake, he of course knew there would be forks available from room service, but what would she do?

"Jennifer" he started.

"You have been doing well, you are really starting to get it. You will get better at it, flirting your way out of trouble, using your femininity as a weapon, that Jennifer is the difference between a WASP soldier and a normal Special Forces soldier, your special weapon is you Jennifer" he said as she finally put the cake on the table, he had maybe told her too much already but it didn't matter, she deserved to be rewarded so she knew what she had to work on and so he could have some more fun.

He smiled and with his foot he pushed the chair out for her and patted the table for her to sit down.

"One fork, a sticky situation" he said to her, and then almost as if reading her mind and he knew that there was at least a part of her that was thinking of this, he cut some cake off with the side of the fork and then dipping it some chocolate sauce he held the fork for her to take in her mouth, it was a bold move, but they had progressed a great deal and he wasn't going to go backwards now.

While he was waiting he started to talk again, "So as you have graciously left me with one question" he smiled, "I ask you, what would you do if you were trapped in a room with a stronger bigger aggressive male, he is not on your side but he does not know you are the enemy, how would you calm him and keep him on your side, you are not armed, and you cannot blow your cover by hurting him, SO Jennifer, what do you do?"

"OH, and this one is a practical question, show me what you would do" he added as he held the fork for her.

 

[skittish_butterfly]

Jen kept holding out the cake to the Sergeant, as if she could somehow mentally force him to take it from her just by holding it out long enough. But he just started talking to her, to Jennifer again. His words caused a smile to peek through the blush of her face as he told her she was doing well and getting it. But the details he listed of what she was doing right caused her smile to turn a little uncertain at the corners of her mouth as her arm holding out the cake slowly lowered with each word and finally just set the container down on the table beside him.

Flirting her way out of trouble? That wasn't a special forces skill, that was a trick used by pretty high school girls to get out of doing their homework or lingerie models to talk their way out of traffic tickets. Flirting? Her? Well, yes, maybe some of what had been going on between the two of them this strange morning qualified as... well, flirting, but it was just a game. And he had started it.

But using her femininity as a weapon? She was scarcely aware of her femininity, so used to keeping it literally concealed under camouflage and heavy buts, let alone that it was loaded or pointed at anybody. Although, as she thought about it, as she felt the panties still clinging to her hips under the cammies, she started to get the idea the Sergeant had somehow wandered into her crosshairs.

Using her femininity and flirting he'd said she would get better at it. As if she'd be practicing them. As if she needed to be trained.

As if she'd made a nice attempt at using them, but not really good enough!

Jen was so embarrassed she turned her eyes aside from his gaze, her face hot. She admitted it to herself, yes, she'd been flirting with him just a little bit. She liked the Sergeant, she really did, and she'd gotten a little bit flustered by all his questions, all the lingerie and sexual banter and high heels and just... by him, by who he was. But if she'd flirted with him, it was just a very light, very natural kind of thing, not some sort of weapon she'd deployed against him! And deployed so clumsily that he noticed and thought she had to get better at it! Oh God she wanted to disappear.

But he wasn't done talking, and she'd been trained already long enough not to slink off to a hiding hole while her superior officer still held the floor. He was explaining that the flirting and femininity was the difference between WASP and in "normal" special forces, and that she was the weapon. Part of the puzzle slowly assembled itself inside her head, previous jigsaw pieces from earlier nuggets of information suddenly finding they fit with this latest bit of intel. Jen couldn't believe it, but couldn't find a better explanation. Were they really planning to train her to flirt and seduce the enemy into a vulnerable position where a real special forces sniper could take him out with a well-trained shot? They thought that was important? Thought it needed its own spot in special forces? And they thought, for some reason, it was something they should train *her* to do?

Jen stood, her legs very wobbly, her grip on the world feeling tenuous, like she'd thought she had a mature view of life but suddenly realized she knew nothing all along. Her eyes were stuck on the cake container, to embarrassed to look at him. Had he been grading her? Had he been evaluating they way their hands touched, the contact of their knees, the way she revealed her awkward sexual history to him? And he said she would get better, with his training perhaps.

She heard the chair slide on the floor as his foot gave it a little push beside her and he patted the table indicating she should sit down, like he could see she was about to sink to the floor in a little puddle of embarrassment and he'd rather she stay right there in front of him, so he could evaluate her some more.

Jen slumped into the chair, eyes glancing longingly at the distant couch and even more distant door to the separate bedroom, wanting to just flounce on the bed and lie there with her face buried in a pillow until it was time for the train to come, the train that would take her to the training that would teach her how to flirt better with the Sergeant, so maybe he would like it, would like her. She wasn't sure whether it was the demeaning nature of the training she finally understood that was upsetting her so much, or the gnawing regret in her heart that she hadn't had the training before meeting the Sergeant. If she'd known how to flirt better, would it have made a difference? What would it feel like to have him looking at her now they way he'd looked at Laura, the way he looked at stupid 18 and 19 year old waitresses who understood all this already? Why didn't he just recruit *them* into his special forces instead of humiliating *her* like this?

She needed something to distract her from the death spiral going on in her head, and the Sergeant's breezy turn to the cake was the only option available to her. Jen still couldn't meet his eyes, but she did follow his big hand to the single fork lying in the cake's box, unable to stop herself from tracing the strong veins on the top of his hand, and dwelling on the thickness of his wrist. Wrong distraction, Jennifer, she chided herself. No, Jen. She was Jen. Jennifer was the one who was bad at flirting. Jen was the one who was smart enough not to try.

The Sergeant seemed totally relaxed though, as if he were oblivious to the shooting war going on right nearby inside her head. He deftly cut a little bite size morsel of cake with the fork and dipped it in the chocolate, and he held it out toward her. What? Why was he still flirting with her, if her flirting needed so much work? What did he want from her? Did he expect her to just... just lean forward like one of his slutty waitress friends and eat it off his fork, letting him feed her? Because that's what they would do, she knew it in a second. And there was a little part of her, the part that was still fascinated by just the sight of his wrist, that ached to do just that, a little slutty waitress trapped inside her yearning to be set free on the Sergeant. Did he actually still expect her to flirt back at him? Did he... did he still want that?

Jen blinked very slowly, trying to give her emotions a chance to coalesce into something coherent instead of simply dissolving into humiliated tears. The thought he still wanted her to flirt back at him was all she had to hold onto, but that was a lot. She slowly slowly looked up to his eyes, saw the way he was smiling at her as she sat so close to him, just like in the restaurant, as if all of that had been real and not just a way to expose her deplorable dating skills.

She glanced from his eyes to the cake and back again, hovering in indecision. She still hurt inside and had to deal with that before she could understand what she wanted to do.

It wasn't so much this new picture of her training that bothered her. Yes, sure it was definitely surprising, shocking even, and not what she would have signed up for. But you don't usually pick your job or your training in the military, and, well, she'd said it herself: she'd do just about anything to serve her country, just like her dad expected of her, just like her dad had done. Hadn't he sacrificed, hadn't he given pretty much everything he had to his country? She just hoped he'd never find out about the service her country seemed to want from her. He'd seemed to proud when she'd painted the image of herself in special forces tossing hand grenades like he had. He'd be crushed to know the army wanted her to... to flirt with the enemy.

But even beyond the training issue Jen's heart still ached from all the Sergeant had just revealed to her. As she thought about it, though, as she weighed and measured her pain and embarrassment like a problem to be solved rather than self-pity to be wallowed in -- just like Dad always said, although almost certainly not with situations like this in mind -- Jen realized she was hurt most by the fact she'd actually wanted the big Sergeant to be entranced by her, wanted him to want her. That to him her flirting was just a brave but untrained attempt, not enough to actually make an impression on his own heart, that was what really hurt her. She admitted it, and felt that pain, let it free.

There were no tears on her cheeks, but she felt them stinging her eyes as she blinked back at him. He kept the fork with the bite of cake held out for her as he waited so patiently for her, probably thinking about how silly she was getting all emotional over things. But he was being patient and persistent, just like she'd been as she'd held the cake out to him just a minute earlier, like it mattered to him, like he was willing to put up with her difficulties, her growing pains. If her flirting needed work, why was he still looking at her like that? But she couldn't deny the heat in his gaze, and the heat in her own in return, burning off the tears brimming in her eyes.

Jen took a deep breath, coming to a decision for herself. She let go of everything but the single strongest feeling, focusing on that, the way the Sergeant was looking at her being exactly what she'd hoped for even if it wasn't because of her flirting. Her heart was convinced there was something here something between them in this moment, that she hadn't washed out with him completely. What was it about her that kept him offering the cake to her? Were the cheekbones her mom was always going on about that special? But Jen stopped questioning it and went with what her heart wanted. Slowly she opened her lips and leaned toward the Sergeant, her eyes on his as she admitted she wanted more. She wanted to have his cake and eat him too, that's just how she felt and she gave up trying to figure it out or calculate it.

That was the moment he chose to fill the hot silence between them with his third question, leaving her hovering once more, her lips mere inches from the fork still in his outstretched hand. She didn't pull back though, not sure she'd have the courage to throw herself at him like a cheap floozy waitress again if she stopped now, so she just stayed still, looking in his eyes and listening to her Sergeant, trapped between two identities: half soldier, half embarrassed lovestruck girl.

His question just heightened the embarrassment, but was it really so much worse than the others? And it actually left her insides tingling, aching for him just that little bit more as she tried to think of how she could answer it. Something about his description of being trapped in a room with a stronger, bigger, aggressive male just set off unexpected primal reactions all through her body and her breath came just a little quicker as she imagined the scenario, trying to put herself in that place enough to come up with some kind of answer.

She couldn't deny that the big aggressive male in her mind was the Sergeant himself, and looking in his eyes she thought it was just what he wanted from her. Jen closed her eyes and tried to imagine what Jennifer would do. Her lips were still open, her tongue just about tasting the cake, but she didn't move. She could feel the heat of the Sergeant's gaze on her face, or maybe that was just her body's reaction to the kind of thoughts she was thinking.

Then she opened her eyes, "Sarge, I'd come close to him and show..."

He interrupted her,flustering her even more, with one final confounding part of his question. Was this even a question anymore? He wanted her to demonstrated her answer? Was it even a game anymore? Jen's body was crying out for her to put her arms around him, and everything felt so real it was giving her the shakes, but she couldn't just give in to old Jen's reactions, her shy embarrassment that would just send her scurrying to the safety of the bedroom and a locked door between them. She was Jennifer too, and Jennifer had rights and needs.

Jen tried to flip a switch in her head, tried to turn herself off and turn Jennifer on. It didn't feel like a game, and Jennifer didn't want it to be a game. She wanted the Sergeant so much, and not in a theoretical way. She ached for him to see her as a woman and not just an awkward soldier-girl whose flirting skills needed more training.

But was she really going to do things she'd been about to say to him? He'd led her too far down this path already and she didn't think she had it in her to turn back anymore. She felt like this was just destiny between them, and she couldn't stop it anymore than he could. Well, at least the Jennifer part of her hoped he couldn't stop it, or wouldn't.

Jen reached up a hand, let it rest lightly on the wrist that so fascinated her, gently stroking just a little bit with her fingers as if she could convince him to stay in the game, to play it through and not leave her hanging and embarrassed like it was all some big joke at her expense. She pulled the chair just a little closer, until their knees were touching once more, which almost took her breath away, to touch him so intimately. She leaned in the last inch or so and took his fork in her mouth, thinking of the time she'd taken Bradley in her mouth, only trying to do it right this time, to make it look good and not just feel good since the Sergeant's fork couldn't see anything. Everything was for the Sergeant's eyes.

She pulled back very slowly, closing her eyes and losing herself in the sensual pleasure of the coconut and chocolate and the touch of the Sergeant against her. As she swallowed the little bite, she kept her lips at the tip of his fork, not wanting to let him disengage from this moment of fantasy, wanting the fantasy to play on further.

Jen put her hands on his knees and stood up slowly, finally breaking contact with the fork, and standing basically between his knees as she looked down at him. "Don't go anywhere. There's something I have to show you." How did her voice get so breathy? Jennifer didn't let Jen think about it. She just stepped back a few short steps, moving mostly with the sway of her hips, doing everything she could to hold the Sergeant transfixed by the sight of her, not wanting to lose his attention, not when she felt so close, like something real was possible. He'd be off on the other side of camp in a day, counseling other girls and not her, and whatever happened here probably wouldn't even matter. She might not even see him again if he'd been telling the truth, and she couldn't let it end that way. He had to know there was more to her, she had to show him Jennifer.

She crouched down as gracefully as it was possible in camouflage pants and heavy boots, just enough for her fingers to snare the fancy shoe bag. Then Jennifer slinked back to the chair right at his knees, standing next to him so close she could imagine his big arms reaching out around her hips and just gathering her in against his body. She shivered just a little as she stood there. She was Jennifer, definitely Jennifer, meeting his gaze, trying so hard to believe she was worth his interest.

Two slender fingers snagged the straps of her heels and lifted them out for him to see. "I want to show you what you bought for me today. But I didn't pick them out to go with these." She ran her other hand slowly down the leg and backside of her cammies, turning just a little to let him catch different angles of the way the canvas material played against her bottom and leg. Let him imagine more, let him want more. She wanted more, so it was only fair. The bag fell to the floor. Jennifer took a deep breath, looking in his eyes and measuring his heat to reassure herself she was doing the right thing, not that she felt she had a choice anymore. She reached her hand to the buttons of her camouflage pants. "You want to see them on me? To see how pretty they would look with the right outfit?" And she unbuttoned just the top button, knowing she was wearing the sexy panties underneath, wondering what he would think if she really went ahead and showed them to him. Would he laugh that she'd actually worn them? Would they look ridiculous with her top, without the matching bra? Without the stockings? Too much to think about, stop thinking, Jennifer told her, and just looked at the Sergeant's eyes, watching how he looked at her, wondering what was going through his mind.

 

[littlerooster]

He could see once more that she was still confused and rather rattled by what she had just been informed of, he could see that she saw herself far more as the type who would get out of trouble by eye gouging the enemy at close range or a well placed sniper shot at long range.

The trouble was this was all ok if the enemy was required to die, what if the enemy is to be manipulated, seduced even, if engaging the enemy becomes an investment, a lengthy campaign of becoming a trusted confidant, someone that the target will share all his deepest secrets with, military or otherwise.

This was what a WASP unit would specialize in, espionage, kidnapping, honey trapping and yes at times assassinations, Jen would get to kill, it would be part of what was expected of her, but she already knew how to do that, the military had taught her how to bayonet a man to death, how to take a mans life. What WASP would do would be to train her to persuade a man to betray his own country, his comrades, to betray everything for a kiss, for a look, to betray everything and yet, never suspect that the object of his desire is working against him. That is what a WASP soldier would be doing, that is what Jennifer would have to learn.

He cut a piece of the cake and held it on the fork for Jennifer to eat, would she do it, it was a rather personal thing to do of course, very sexual to be fed by someone and by no means was any of this innocent anymore, he was through with handling her with kid gloves, she wanted to prove herself, she wanted to be a WASP, she had progressed a great deal since they first met, now she would have to demonstrate the answer to his question, she would have to take the cake off his waiting fork, she would have to do it all or he would lose faith in her, he knew she was thinking this, still wondering what the purpose of it all was, why the army needed a Barbie doll rather than killer, well she would learn soon enough.

She leaned forward, her hand on his wrist, he felt a rush of hot energy run through him, moving forward in her chair their knees touched yet again, and then she slowly did it, she leaned forward with her mouth, taking the phallic fork into her mouth, eating what he was offering her, he felt a twinge within his groin, he was growing harder, yes Jennifer, good keep it up, he thought, trying to encourage her mentally without coaching her through it step by step, he wanted to see if she had the feminine instinct buried in there at all and of course she did, she had just ignored it for all these years.

This was a training exercise and yet there was real attraction between a them, a real live fire exercise as it was, he wanted to throw her up against a wall right now and fuck her. But no, this was an exercise, this was for her benefit and yet he was struggling to hold back his desire.

She pulled back the cake in her mouth, behaving as if it were a mouthful of his cum, she was doing well, she looked hot, she looked real, this was no bullshit porno film, she was convincing.

She told him in a breathy voice not to go anywhere, there was something she wanted to show him, he took a breath, he was so worked up, he just waited silent, not sure if he could speak to save himself.

She bent over and pulled out the sexy shoes they had bought earlier, he twinged and shifted in his chair, he was unable to control himself now, she took them from the bag and told him that she didn't mean them to be worn with her cammies, and with that she started to play with the top button on her trousers.

He was going nuts right now, but he had to compose himself, this was training, he was working and it was meant to help her.

"No" he said hurriedly.

"I mean, yes, I do. Sorry, you have me rather excited. I just meant, wait, I want to show you something" he said to her and reached for his laptop.

He showed her an unsent Email that he had been writing, an email to the Colonel.

"Colonel,

Jennifer is getting better and better, she is starting to see what is required of a WASP soldier and has improved greatly, I think you have made the right call in marking her for leadership roles and promotion. I think we have a great soldier here in Jennifer and that she will if she works hard of course pass the training

-Nathaniel"

"Let's not be too naive, of course you have been being assessed, this is all very important, but why did I show you that? Why did I show you the unsent email? Because Jennifer you have captivated me, see what a weapon YOU are, do you think I should have shown you that email? Do you think I would show it to you if you held a knife to my throat? NO, of course not, you didn't even know it existed. But you do now, because I am enthralled by you, really, I am, I want to sell my mother just to see you smile, do you get your power now? Are you getting the picture?" he asked letting his words hang in the air before he started to talk again.

"So Jennifer, imagine the send button is a detonator, imagine that you get to press it, I will stand aside and let you not only press send but to add to it, to say anything you want about yourself, I will give it to you, but Jennifer, I would hope that you would model it all for me properly, with the stockings and bra and the whole outfit, the way it was meant to be worn. Do you want to beat the aggressive man, do you want to win the battle?" he said to her returning to military talk to remind her that this was more than just him wanting to see her half naked.