Thread: Rape Camp (skittish_butterfly & littlerooster)

Jen heard him loud and clear. Fuck 'em and get out. With the Sergeant's eyes averted, Jen slid across to the far side of the bed, so she wouldn't have to brush past his big legs on the way to the bathroom. His words were crude, but Jen knew she had to toughen herself up again. After awhile back in Basic she'd gotten calloused to the way the soldiers were, how they spoke like this. Despite Dad's stories, she hadn't really been prepared for it -- although, what was he supposed to say to get her ready? Now after a few months at a desk job working with other desk jockeys, most of whom were married and settled down, the lessons of Basic had faded a bit and Jen found she'd gone a little soft again. Toughen up, kid, she told herself. She held the towel tight and stood up, peeking back at him and reassuring herself the Sergeant was actually being considerate about it. His words were crass, heck, obviously even his behavior with the pretty little Waitress was crude, but Jen could see in these moments of sensitivity and politeness, and from deeper conversations like the previous night's, there was clearly a lot more to the Sergeant than find, fuck and forget even if he was capable of that as well. Yeah, she started, trying for a light tone, dating is such a pain in the ass. She slipped around the corner and into the bathroom and then closed the door quietly behind her. Jen sighed and looked in the mirror. Oh God, her hair was a mess! Why had she... She gritted her teeth and heard Dad's voice in her head. No time for regrets, they just lead to more regrets. With the towel still around her she started brushing out her hair. He was quiet in the other room, and she wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about the waitress. All she could hear was her own soft breathing and the steady stroke-stroke-stroke of the brush through her hair. She was almost done, her hair smooth and shiny as she brushed it back over her shoulders, when he finally piped up outside, wanting to know if Jen still wanted to shop. Jen gathered her hair up tight in her right hand behind her head and then rolled the red hair band off her wrist and over the gathered hair, pulling it tight until her pony tail was solid. She stepped back from the mirror, tossed her head left and right until she was happy with the way her clean hair swished with each movement. Much better. Yeah, of course I want to shop! That came out like it was spoken by some of her shopaholic classmates back in high school, she realized as her fingers daintily plucked the panties from the towel rack. She smiled, relieved they were dry. She stepped into them and called out through the door, trying to make sure she didn't leave him with the wrong impression. I'm going to need something to wear for sure, so I guess we have to shop, no choice really. I'm fine for today but if this delay doesn't get me to a quartermaster by tonight I'm definitely going to have to resupply a bit here. She settled the fabric evenly between her legs, wiggled her hips a little to make sure the skimpy pink cotton material was flat and comfortable, and then let her towel drop. She'd gotten her bra back on and had one leg into her cammies when he mentioned breakfast. Her stomach rumbled. Jen stepped into the second leg and wriggled until they were all the way up and over her bottom, and buttoned them. Breakfast sounds mandatory Sergeant. Just... She was going to make a comment about picking a different restaurant, but realized it was insensitive. Maybe he really wanted to see the waitress, maybe he even liked her, in a shallow, fuck-buddy kind of way. And she didn't want him to start thinking of her as that girl, that kind of game-playing girl who was obsessed with who he dated and all that. Just... let's eat soon, I'm starved. Wherever you want's fine. Just don't make the goo-goo eyes while I'm eating. But she didn't say it. She could hear him moving around as she slipped the short-sleeved olive green tshirt over her head and worked on buttoning the camouflage top over it. As she emerged from the bathroom she saw him stretching his back like a high school gym teacher, groaning and complaining about the arm chair. Jen raised an eyebrow in surprise. Was he really being that obvious? Like she was supposed to... because she was a girl she was supposed to give him a back rub? Or was this even some vague kind of come on, like come for the backrub, stay for the blow job? Jen shook her head with a chuckle. Yeah Sarge, well, sneaking back in the middle of the night after a hot date... I mean hot casual sex... and bivouacking in an arm chair will do that to you. She stopped short of telling him he should have taken care of himself and slept in bed. That would have carried the double penalty of pointing out her part in his back's soreness for hogging the bed all to herself, as well as the awkward image of what if he'd actually done that. Maybe we should have lunch at a Japanese restaurant and we can set you up with one of those geisha girls who'll walk on your back after... But his attention had wandered to his phone, eyes moving like he was reading a text message, her attempt to deflect his awkward oh my back is sore moment by being as crude as he was falling on deaf ears. She took a deep breath and turned instead to pack up the medals and the picture frame in her pack and put one strap over her right shoulder, in purse mode rather than hiking mode. Well Sarge? You coming? My stomach's not going to feed itself! She stepped out in the hall, making a mental note to remember to get the other key from him in case they had to be here another night. She looked back from the hall at his face still in the room. He had that look, and Jen was sure it was something from the waitress, some sexy note or a naked picture, the way he smiled like he was thinking about fucking somebody.