Message-ID: <54862asstr$1162973404@assm.asstr.org>
DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; q=dns; c=nofws;
  s=s1024; d=yahoo.com;
  h=Message-ID:Received:Date:From:Subject:To:MIME-Version:Content-Type:Content-Transfer-Encoding;
  b=xAZveglSGA76IOOJw4f/WRuuXh7x6X4fO/hmNlb28qxlM3qkafuRwlRqgCii875cXod0HYjX+YgDSjl42YyjyWNXNnUZ4r1JAU1HYr5ijys1bPjGy73wMS928SDLR3TaJ6q+5o59u/zcqTLMp9ajpYnSpQhlxqIn5FhG0LbCvd4=  ;
From: Spangles Muldoon <spanglesmuldoon@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
Subject: {ASSM} Rambeau
Lines: 362
Date: Wed, 08 Nov 2006 03:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Copyright (C) 1999, Spangles Muldoon.  ALL Rights Reserved

   This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit, or on another
website without the written permission of the author.  The author may be
contacted by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.

   Original posting date: Tuesday AM, April 13, 1999

   A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive, Filename: rambeau.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com







   Rambeau

   By Spangles Muldoon

   spanglesmuldoon@yahoo.com



   I guess I was naive, but at the time it seemed like a good way to make
some extra money for very little work.  Looking back on it now, joining the
Air National Guard was a dumbshit idea.  Sure, it wasn't too bad doing
drill weekends, and for that matter, summer camp was not all that bad
either.  I actually sort of enjoyed it.  I was working in the Guard as an
aircraft mechanic, and because of licenses, ratings, and experience in the
civilian world, I had a dual specialty code, one for fixed wing, and one
for helicopter.



   I didn't realize that it was a dumbshit idea until my unit was called up
to go to the other side of the planet to some little third-world country
that none of us had ever even heard of.  Our mission, of course, was to
save the American way of life, although for the life of me, I didn't
understand how us being there would do that.



   I didn't realize how serious this was until they issued weapons and ammo
to us prior to departure.  The "grunts" were given M-16's, and the
technicians (me included) were issued sidearms.  They figured it was too
hard to work on an aircraft with an M- 16 strapped to your back.  They were
right, but it was no picnic to do it while wearing a sidearm, either.

   I still figured I would be okay when I got there.  I figured that since
I was dual qualified, and was one of the older, more experienced guys in
the group, I would surely be put in a back area maintenance base where my
experience could be best utilized.  Murphy was with me, of course, so I was
put in a front area doing line maintenance on helicopters.  The good side
was that we were told that this was only a police action, and that we would
only be there 60 to 90 days.  Yeah, right.  You know about how accurate
that turned out to be, too.



   The base (and I use the term very loosely....) was a clearing in the
middle of a large forest.  There was about a hundred and fifty yards of
clear area between the helicopter pads and the edge of the woods, even less
than that is some places.  The area had been bulldozed out of the forest by
the Army Corps of Engineers, and they had laid down some WW-II surplus
metal portable runway material to make helipads.  Line shacks were nothing
more than portable buildings.  We had all the neccesities, which was one of
the reasons that the Air Guard is a better choice than the others.  We
always had hot meals available, and always had a clean, dry place to sleep.
The other services could never say that.

   We got shot at quite a bit, but fortunately the enemy weren't very good
shots.  I patched bullet holes in the helicopters almost every day, some
picked up in flight, and some done by snipers while the aircraft was on the
pad.  I had the sidearm with me all the time, but I didn't feel real good
about it.  It wasn't much good against a sniper with a rifle and a scope in
a tree 150 yards away.

   I saw the enemy a few times when they were captured and flown into the
base.  They were a ragtag bunch, most of them very young, and all of them
obviously untrained or poorly trained at best.  Theirs was an equal
opportunity army, and was made up of women and girls as well as men and
boys.  My first direct contact with them came about as sort of fluke.  It
had rained hard all night the night before.  The helipads were hard
surface, but the rest of the ground was wet and pretty soft.  By afternoon,
the sun had dried the top layer of dirt, but the dry part was only a crust
less than an inch thick.  Underneath, it was still muddy and soft.

   It was about two in the afternoon.  I was on the ramp preflighting a
helicopter for a mission.  In the distance, I heard another helicopter
coming in.  I quit what I was doing and went to the next helipad, waiting
to marshall him in.  About the time I saw him over the top of the trees, I
heard the engine surge, followed by a couple of rapid compressor stalls. 
More work for me, I thought.  As I watched him come in, I knew his approach
angle was all wrong.  He didn't have enough power or altitude to make the
pad, and it was obvious he was going to land well short.  He went into
auto-rotation, and set the helicopter down about ten yards from the edge of
the forest.  As soon as I saw him flare, I started out to the aircraft with
fire extinguisher in hand.  He brought it in safely, and as soon as he got
it shut down, I talked to the pilot a little.  I made a quick diagnosis of
the problem based on the information he gave me.  I figured I had about two
or three hours of work to do to get the aircraft back up again.

   I knew I would not be able to move the aircraft to the pad.  It would
have to be fixed where it was.  It couldn't fly out until it was fixed, and
the ground was too soft to drive a tug on.  It was certainly too soft to
support the helicopter on ground handling wheels.  Yep.  It had to be fixed
where it sat.  I walked back to the base with the Pilot, and started
getting the tools and parts together.  It took me two trips to haul all the
tools and parts to the aircraft, since I had no help.  Pilots are notorious
for that.  They think once they get it on the ground and walk away, they're
finished.  Just as well.  Pilot's don't generally make good maintenance
helpers.

   When I got to the aircraft the second time, I noticed that I now had
bullet holes in the aircraft.  None in a critical area, but they had not
been there before.  Shit.  A sniper was all I needed.  Fortunately, I was
working on the side of the aircraft away from the forest.  That gave me a
little bit of protection, but I still didn't feel real good about it.  I
worked fast, because I really didn't want to be there when it got dark.



   I had been working for a while when I had to get down to get some parts.
I got the survival knife out of the helicopter, and was using it to open
parts boxes.  I saw movement at the edge of the forest with my peripheral
vision.  One thing I knew for certain was that dead lasted a very long
time, and I was not at all interested in that kind of long term
relationship.  I heard a shot, and almost at the same instant plexiglass
shattered as the bullet went through the cabin window, through the
helicopter, and out the other side, whizzing close enough to my head that I
could feel the breeze as it went by.  I dropped to the ground and laid
there.  The helicopter was between me and the forest, but that didn't offer
much protection.  Since I was lying on the ground, all I had to hide behind
was the skid gear.  I did my absolute best to hide my entire body behind
the tubes.

   I guess the sniper thought I was dead, because as I lay on the ground
looking under the aircraft towards the forest, I saw a figure coming out of
the woods and walking toward the aircraft.  I wasn't really in the right
position to see clearly, and I wasn't about to move for fear that the
sniper's aim might be better up close, but from what little I could see,
the sniper was on the small side, short, and with a slight build.  The
sniper was wearing standard camouflage fatigues, a fatigue cap, and jungle
boots.  U.S.  surplus, no doubt.  I really couldn't tell any more than that
because I was relying on my peripheral vision only, although I did have the
impression that there was a rifle slung over the sniper's shoulder.

   The sniper came around the front of the helicopter and walked directly
up to where I was lying, coming up to me from behind.  I felt a couple of
quick, light kicks in the kidneys, not enough to hurt, but enough to make
the sniper think I was dead when I didn't react.  What a dumb ass.  I saw
the third kick coming with my peripheral vision, and when the sniper was
off balance on one foot, I rolled over and grabbed the sniper's ankle in
one quick motion.  With a flip of my wrist, the sniper was on the ground.

   I rolled on top into a pin position before the sniper even knew what had
happened.  The sniper's rifle was pinned underneath both of us, and since
the sniper was so much smaller than me, there was no chance the sniper
could get hold of it.  I forgot all about my sidearm, but I still had the
survival knife in my hand.  I placed it to the sniper's throat.  All
strugling stopped at that point.  It was also at that point when I noticed
that the sniper was a female.

   I knocked the cap off her head to get a better look.  Her hair was tied
up in a knot on top of her head, and had been hidden by her cap.  She
looked young, maybe thirteen or fourteen, but it was hard to tell.  Surely
she was older than that, but she really didn't look it.  Maybe she wasn't.
I had seen guys that age come into the base as prisoners.  She had very
soft features, made softer by the small amount of baby fat she had on her.
Under different circumstances, she would have been cute.  Her hair was
brunette, and her eyes were a vivid green.

   I changed positions from a full body pin to a position of straddling
her, sitting on her pelvis with my legs folded under me on each side of
her. I got the rifle out from under her, removed the clip and ejected the
cartridge from the chamber, then tossed the rifle under the helicopter. 
For my own safety, I had to search her for more weapons.  Under the
circumstances, I knew it would be a thorough search.

   I ran my hands down both her sides and across her chest, spending just a
little extra time searching her chest.  Her tits were very small, maybe the
size of half-lemons.  She didn't have a bra on, nor did she have any reason
to wear one.  I changed positions and ran my hands further down her body,
searching her through her clothes.  She had a very slight hint of curve at
her waist.  Her thighs were firm and muscular, sort of like a dancer.  They
were very thin, leaving a wide space between them where they met her
pelvis. She could wear cordouroy without making any noise at all.



   I needed to be as sure as I could that she had no other weapons, after
all, she had been shooting at me.  I decided that a more detailed search
was needed.  I started to unbutton her fatigue shirt, and she began to
protest.  I didn't understand her language, but her tone was pretty
definite.  She tried to get her hands in position to stop me from
unbuttoning her shirt, but she was just too small to do much good.  I kept
unbuttoning, until the entire front of her shirt was undone.  I pulled her
shirt tail out of her pants, and opened her shirt wide.

   Her tits were exactly as I had imagined them.  Very small, very pointy,
and very firm.  She was less than happy with the fact that I spent some
time playing with them.  My dick was hard as a rock.  I moved off her, and
this time she tried to make a break for it.  She wasn't fast enough or
strong enough, and I had her pinned again almost instantly.  She was
talking again, but all I could tell from her tone was that she was pissed.
It was then that I knew I was going to fuck her.  If she was big enough to
shoot at me, she was big enough to get screwed by me.

   I moved one hand to her belt and tried to unfasten it.  It was a
standard U.S.  military web belt with a Sam Browne type buckle, and there
was no way in hell I could get it loose with one hand.  I slipped the knife
blade under the belt and sliced it in two.  I was not in the mood for
formalities.

   The button and zipper came open easily.  She was still fighting against
me, but she didn't have enough strength to have any effect.  I changed
positions again so that I could get her pants down.  I knew that I could
not get them completely off her without taking off her jungle boots, so I
had to be content with getting them bunched down around her calves.



   She was wearing standard G.I.  issue olive drab boxer shorts, which for
some reason struck me as funny.  Still, it was very easy to get them down
to where her fatigue pants were.  It was only then that I looked at her
pussy for the first time.  She had almost no hair at all, and what little
there was was very fine.  I know this may sound strange, but she had a
really pretty little pussy.  She had small, pouty, perfectly formed pussy
lips splayed out on each side of her hole like petals on a flower.  She
tried to close her legs to deny me access, but there was just no way.  I
had managed to get one of my knees between hers, and she couldn't block me.
I put one of my hands between her legs, feeling for her hole.  She was
talking a lot in a very angry tone, but I paid no attention to her.  I
could imagaine what she was saying, but I really didn't care.

   I worked my finger between her pussy lips and was both pleased and
surprised to find that she was wet.  Not tremendously wet, but wet enough.
She knew what was going to happen, and she started fighting against me even
harder, but it was to no avail.  She was pinned.  I managed to get my
finger inside her up to the first knuckle, and thought I felt a hymen. 
Unbelievable.  My dick twitched in anticipation.

   I moved my hand to my own pants and unzipped them, taking out my dick
and balls.  I moved both my knees between hers, and forced her legs as far
apart as her pants would allow.  I then dropped on top of her, pinning her
to the ground even more effectively than I had before.  I reached between
us and guided my dick to her pussy, placing the head at her entrance.  She
was still talking angrily and struggling, but I think she knew it was a
fait accompli.  There was nothing she could do to stop it from happening.

   I moved my hips, slipping the head of my dick into her.  She was
amazingly tight.  I withdrew, and slipped back into her, going deeper this
time.  This time, I went deep enough to feel an obstruction.  I pulled out
again and made a couple of slow, easy strokes against her hymen, not
wanting to hurt her.  Then it came to me.  Shit.  This girl had tried to
fuckin KILL me, and here I was worried about hurting her?  Bullshit.  I
pulled almost completely out of her, and rammed my dick into her full
force, with all the power I could muster.  I busted through her cherry like
that bullet had busted through the plexiglass.  My dick rammed full length
in to her, not stopping until my balls bounced against her ass.  She let
out a muffled scream as her cherry gave way, and tears began to develop in
her eyes.  She was biting her lower lip so hard that I thought she would
make it bleed.

   I pulled almost completely out of her, then rammed my dick home again. I
did it again, harder and faster, and gained speed with each stroke.  I gave
not a solitary thought to her pleasure, concentrating instead on mine.  My
balls were already heavy with sperm, and I knew I would be sending my seed
into her very quickly.  I lifted my upper body off of her and continued to
pound into her.  I was able to look down and watch my dick disappear into
her, then reappear almost like magic.  I was fucking her so hard that she
actually scooted a little bit on the ground every time I bottomed out
inside her.

   I made a real effort to hold back my climax, because I knew from
experience that the longer I held back, the larger and more powerful my
orgasm would be when it happened.  As it always does, though, the time
comes when holding back is impossible.  I bottomed my dick deep inside her,
and my first shot of sperm rocketed into her.  I paused for a split second,
then continued to pound into her.  Each time my balls hit her ass, another
shot of sperm blasted inside her.  I kept it up for longer than I thought
possible, sending more sperm into her than I thought was possible for me. I
completely drained my balls into her, pumping every last drop of sperm I
had deep into her.

   She had obviously felt me shooting inside her, and she continued to
talk, louder and faster now, but I didn't understand her language, nor did
I really care what she was saying.  My dick softened and slipped out of
her, and I got up on my knees and refastened my clothes.  I stood, and she
tried to get up, but it was impossible for her to manage it with her pants
and shorts down around her legs.  She pulled them up and jumped up, only
then pausing to fasten them.  She looked at me with a hatred that I haven't
seen before or since.  She looked at her rifle lying under the helicopter,
then back at me.  I as glad I had unloaded it.  I think she would have made
a try for it and would have killed me on the spot if she could.  She stood
there, waiting for what was to come next.  I hadn't thought far enough
ahead to know what I was going to do next.

   If I took her in, she would be interogated by a translator, and I would
be in deep shit if they believed her.  She was full to overflowing with my
sperm, so it would only take a simple test to find out if what she told
them was true.  I could have shot her on the spot and been done with it,
after all, she was the enemy, and that is what I was there for.  I also
considered letting her go, but that was not a good idea either.  If I did
that , she would be back in a tree sniping at some other G.I.  tomorrow.

   I was still running the options through my mind when she dropped and
rolled, grabbed her rifle, jumped back on her feet, and took off running at
top speed.  I pulled my side arm and pointed it at her as she ran.  I
considered pulling the trigger, then thought better of it.  Enemy or not, I
just couldn't bring myself to do it.  She paused at the tree line and
looked back at me, and even at that distance the hatred in her eyes was
evident.  She turned and ran into the woods, still holding her rifle.

   ---FINI--



   arm, e

























   *---(:> Double for Nothing!!  Tricks for Free!!!  <:)---*



   www.mrdouble.com



   California Girls.....


   *---(:> Mr Double <:)---* 

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+