BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 04
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Tranny Wrens go to the movies with their boyfriends.
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
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Chapter Four - A Night at the Flicks

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

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

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

Then a door crashed open down the passageway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spike raised a fist to her but he was smiling.

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

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

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

"Sit down hookey," He blurted out around a belch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Got it?"

"Yes PO!" Spike snapped.

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

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

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

"If that's not shit, it'll do to til we get some," Knocker chortled.

He stood up unsteadily and left the office.

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

Spike followed her and pulled her into his arms.

"Your perfume was what he smelled," Spike said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michele grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's get this done Jason; we have six weeks to spend time together,"

"Your right Wren Writer Nyland," he said officiously.

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

"Ok Wren Nyland, start typing!" he instructed.

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

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

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

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

"But that means I won't see you for the rest of the day," Spike looked
petulant.

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

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

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

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

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

Secure was 1700, one hour before dinner.

"We could do it quicker if we weren't dressed like fucking girls!" Doris
moaned.

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

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