Today’s installment is a two-parter. I don’t want to rush through this absolutely riveting plot setup but Rick really hits his stride later in the book, so by comparison these earlier rapes are quite mundane.
He had put the jumper back on her, right there in bed. Under it, she was sweaty and rumpled from the night’s … she couldn’t call it “rest.” He had made her suck him off, and kiss and lick around his body, and after they fell asleep he woke her at least twice with his cock. But in the morning, she’d awakened to find herself snuggled to his side, her arm across his waist, his firm warm shoulder as her pillow. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said, and his voice and his smile were tender. She’d reached up to kiss him, and he’d kissed back, and the lovemaking was like her mother’s old Harlequin Romance books described a girl’s wedding night. O Mother God, how sweet.
Linda must have been reading a very different type of Harlequin novel to the one I remember… hell, who am I kidding? Half those books are all about women being kidnapped and falling in love with their rapists.
She heads to breakfast and gossips with her fellow sex slaves. They’re all fairly unremarkable except for the Token Australian, Mavis. Rick writes her with as convincing an accent as the Token Swedish Girl. Linda still doesn’t understand her new position, so she cries to Mavis about her many rapes at the hands of Chuck. Mavis is not impressed.
“Now, what did he do? Really? You were making his bed, y’say. Bendin’ over, making a perfect target-of-opportunity. So he grabs yer hips, unzips, and puts his guided muscle right into the spot marked double-X. Does that describe it?” Mavis smiled knowingly.
“Didja come? Didn’t ya come? Even when he raw-doggied you, bent over the edge of the bed?” Mavis spotted her blush, and she patted Linda’s hand. “Of course you did. I know the Shark too. I know he gave you a good rooting. Or three.” Linda took a deep breath, and nodded.
“There ya go, Linda. You’da gone for Sharky in a minute, after a few pints in a pub. Here, you’re getting the same thing, just without all the razzamatazz.” Mavis suddenly looked up with a leer. “And more important, the more you take it for the good, the better it gets.”
While that may seem like ironclad logic, it doesn’t convince Linda and she throws a tantrum in the dining room. The station cook, Soupy, takes her away for some private lessons… and a sob story!
“Look. I ain’t no Pee Aitch Dee. I went from high school to the Navy, and I spent my twenty cookin’ in submarines that was doin’ things that are still top-secret. My wife raised our three kids with me only home about six months of the year; the rest of the time we were out on patrol.
“It was lonely for me. It was lonely for her. But I didn’t have anyplace to go, lookin’ for some fun. Not while being cooped up with a hunnert men on a boat three hunnert feet long. You got the idea of that? It’s a lot like the Station, here.
“One day I came home to an empty house. No wife. No kids. Not even a stick of furniture. Just her divorce papers and a bill for child-support that left me completely broke. I found out later she’d run off with some officer who went PCS to Kings Bay and took her and the kids with him. Never saw any of ’em again.”
Who would have guessed?
“You’re new to the Station. New to the Comfort Corps. When I took your hands, you were scared. I don’t think you’ve had any good loving for a long time. Maybe not since you grew up.”
Gently he took her by the shoulders and swung her around so her head was in his lap. His hand was gentle on her cheek. “I’d like to do something about that. Maybe I can teach you something. Relax and come along with it, honey.”
Yeah, you know where this is going.
It sent a thrill down her body, a shudder down her spine; her nipples tightened almost painfully, and she felt a twitch in her vulva.
O Mother God, the sensations. Her vulva strained, shuddered, and she knew she was on the brink of an orgasm.
His hand, resting now motionless on her vulva, soothed the aftershocks that quaked in her body.
“Vulva” does not really have a place in erotic literature. It’s actually the first time I’ve seen it used in a sex story, and I read a lot of porn.
Soupy was plump and hairy, with what amounted to ‘man-boobs’ that had almost-girlish nipples.
Man-boobs? Yeah, not doing it for me either.
She was conscious of her vagina, her labia, gaping under her.
You know what? Let’s just make a list of words that should never be used in porn.
And with that, we’re at the end of Chapter 5! Next post, we’re going to take a break from Comfort Girls and examine the rest of the Artistry Against Misandry website.