Barrack Room Betty Ch. 08 (4.65) Michele seduces a young
Lieutenant at the Wrens Xmas Party.

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BARRACK ROOM BETTY CH. 08
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Michele seduces a young Lieutenant at the Wrens Xmas Party.
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
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Chapter Eight - The Christmas Party

Lieutenant Steven Winters was an extremely good-looking Navy fighter
pilot whose last posting had been aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Ark
Royal. There was some unpleasantness when, after a wardroom ladies
dine-in night on board the ship, the rather portly Executive Officer had
opened the door to a hangar workshop and found his glamorous wife bent
over a workbench with her sequined evening dress hiked up and her
knickers around her ankles whilst she balanced on her high-heels and
encouraged the young Lieutenant Winters to 'do her doggy'. Which
Lieutenant Winters, like any well-trained young officer, was in the
process of doing.

It was Thursday evening and ironically the toast of the day was: 'To
Wives and Sweethearts' which, at the men-only mess dinners, was usually
followed by the witticism 'may they never meet'. In this case the XO's
wife had somewhat reversed the pun and made the XO a laughing stock in
his own ship.

This led to a hasty posting for Lieutenant Winters, not to a Naval Air
Station, where most pilots went to keep up their skills, but as a
Divisional Officer at Her Majesty's Ship Chelmsford, considered to be
one of the shittiest duties a young up and coming officer could have.

The XO's wife was seen the day after the dine in night at Portsmouth
railway station hiding a black eye behind large sunglasses, having been
'called away at short notice to visit a sick sister' in a small village
in Wales.

For Lieutenant Winters, the exhilaration of being launched from a
catapult whilst at the controls of an F4 Phantom was replaced by sitting
behind a desk pushing papers and looking after the adolescents of
Collins Division. He soon realised that by delegating just about all of
his responsibilities off to the Petty Officers he could get away with
about three hours work a day and then jump in his vintage MGB Roadster
and fuck off into Chelmsford and nearby environs to pursue his favourite
hobbies of drinking and shagging anything in a skirt.

The more senior officers saw him as a young rogue sowing his wild oats
and presupposed that once he had served his time in purgatory he would
be given a suitable posting where he could use his skills to rise
through the ranks. It helped that most of them hated the XO of HMS Ark
Royal and thought him a pompous ass and they delighted in the fact that
young Winters had bought him down a peg or two by rogering his wife on
board one Her Majesty's Ships.

Similarly the Senior Sailors didn't mind taking on his duties and
responsibilities for the same reasons.

And so it came to pass that on Christmas Eve evening a thoroughly pissed
Lieutenant Steve Winters pulled his MGB up outside the Recruit School
administration building, where he had returned, despite being on leave,
to retrieve his cumberbund to complete his Mess Dress uniform.

The lights and music emanating from the Recruit School wet canteen
attracted him like a moth to a flame.

Earlier that evening there had been much ado in the Collins Division
accommodation block as the four 'Wrens' gussied themselves up for the
Christmas party.

All the preparations had been made: food cooked, Christmas tree trimmed,
decorations put up (and as predicted by Polly Perkins, Jimmy Lovejoy had
volunteered to hold the ladder and spent the whole time looking up her
skirt which had led to an impromptu romp in the stationery store) and
drinks and mixers stocked behind the bar.

Michele was in constant demand to assist with makeup, sew and adjust
dresses, straighten wigs and generally help her three less experienced
charges.

The Wrens of course were running late, keeping the lads anxiously
waiting in the wets.

They laughed and joked while they preened. Their cabin smelt of perfume,
deodorant, makeup, hairspray, nailpolish and a hint of cigarette smoke.

Jean Burgess made the mistake of coming over to their cabin to see what
was taking so long.

"Poo! Smells like a brothel in here! How long are you girls gonna be?"
he said, poking his head around the door of their cabin.

He was met by a hailstorm of high-heels, hairbrushes, compacts and
nailfiles and was lucky to escape without losing an eye as he beat a
hasty retreat.

"Fuck em'! How long does it take them to iron a white-front, polish
their shoes and comb their hair. I've laddered three pairs of sheers
with these new fucking false fingernails!" Mary complained.

When the girls finally entered the foyer to the wets, the boys were
stunned into silence.

Doris Holiday was wearing a simple black evening gown which flattered
her fuller figure and Billy Marron raced over and offered her his arm,
complimenting her on her style.

Polly Perkins had opted for a dark blue cocktail dress that was so short
it showed her knickers if so much as leaned one way or the other. She'd
finished the ensemble with shimmery flesh-toned tights and white
high-heels. Jimmy Lovejoy showed his appreciation by squeezing her bum
as he escorted her into the bar.

Mary Maine was wearing a pure white maxi-dress of pleated taffeta which
Jean Burgess found very much to his satisfaction, which he showed by
slipping his hand inside one of the open pleats, promptly laddering
Mary's fourth pair of sheers for the day.

However, all the lads' jaws dropped when Michele Nyland made her
entrance. She was sheathed in a red satin gown that clung to her lithe
frame and flared slightly from the waist down to her silver high-heels.
Her legs were clad in smoky-grey stockings, the dark welts and suspender
clips visible due to the side-split which went right to up her waist.
Her jet-black hair was worn shoulder length in her best 'Farrah
Fawcett', she wore silver jewellery accessorised with a silver clutch to
match her shoes. Her eyes were smoky, her cheeks defined by rouge and
her lipstick bright red.

When Jason Jones stepped forward and offered her his arm he was engulfed
in a miasma of perfume.

Before long everyone was partying, drinking, eating, dancing and rubbing
up against each other. Partners were swapped but for dancing only; the
girls had now paired off and at this stage of their relationships showed
no interest in the other men. For Doris, Polly and Mary this was their
first transvestic experience and they felt comfortable with their
partners; like mated pairs.

Jason's reaction to the incident with Knocker had changed Michele. Her
heart had hardened and her infatuation with Jason was over.

Michele had come to realise that men found her appealing only for her
beauty and sexuality; there was no 'love' or even loyalty. When her
incestuous affair with her Uncle Bill had been discovered, Bill had run
away to Europe and left her to join the navy as decreed by her father.
Jason had treated her like shit initially and had reverted to type when
he suspected that she was seeing other men when in fact she was being
defiled repeatedly by Petty Officer White. The other Wrens had cried
when Jason had carried her into the wets, laid her on the couch and
fawned over her. But the damage had been done. Michele now knew how
shallow he was. Knocker White had used her like a come-bucket but at
least he'd made no pretence of affection; he was probably the most
honest of the three men she had so far had sex with.

Michele felt different now; she felt empowered. She knew that she was
pretty when she crossdressed and was sexually attractive to men of a
certain type and even those who claimed to be essentially heterosexual.
She'd decided that she would no longer be any man's pawn; she would use
men the same way they used her.

The party was just getting into full swing when Lieutenant Steve Winters
kicked open the door.

"What the fuck is going here!"

The revellers froze.

"Division Ho!" Spike yelled.

The recruits had been drilled from day one to snap to attention whenever
an officer was present and they all did except for Michele. She was
lying languidly on her side on one of the couches sipping a gin and
tonic and smoking a menthol cigarette, her head resting on her hand; the
split in her skirt revealing more leg than was becoming.

"Leading Recruit Jones reporting Collins Division sir. Well the remains
of Collins Division anyway," Jason blushed at his own inarticulateness.

Michele smiled; amused at what was transpiring.