Sorodna Dusa

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"Well, before we can leave on a honeymoon we need to shepherd Kitty up to Princeton," Katryn said. "She's been accepted to the summer gymnastics and academics program there which starts on Monday. We plan to drive with her there tomorrow, get her settled into the dorm and drive back tomorrow night."

"If you're willing, there's no need for that," said Greg. "Duke here has to report for cadre training at the Point before Beast Barracks starts. Princeton's on the way. We could convoy her there and continue on to West Point with no trouble at all."

"I'd be happy to drive with her," Duke volunteered. "It goes faster with two drivers, and it's safer." Kitty looked at us for permission. From the look on her face, the idea of driving herself to Princeton with a handsome West Pointer as her copilot and escort wasn't at all objectionable. I was holding Katryn's hand.

"What do you think, my darling?" I asked through our bond.

"We have to cut the umbilical some time, my sir," she replied. "She likes him, and he obviously likes her, their three year age difference notwithstanding. With his parents along as unintended chaperones, I don't see a down side here."

"It's all right with us," I said aloud. "I owe you guys one."

"Thank you, Daddy," said Kitty, taking Duke's hand. I wasn't surprised to see him blush.

"Don't be silly," Barbara said. "You two deserve some carefree time. Now c'mon. Give. Where are you going on your honeymoon? Europe? The Far East? Where?"

"Nothing so exotic as that, Barb," I said. "We're going to spend a couple of weeks right now on the family farm I inherited in the Shenandoah Valley -- "

"Carpetbagger," snorted Greg. The Dusquesne family had lived in the Old South since before the Louisiana Purchase. My great-to-the-third-power grandfather had bought the land, two quarter sections or nearly, during Reconstruction with his mustering-out money from the Union Army and the savings from his poker winnings. Even to the local chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy it was known as "the Fredericks place." Greg's ancestors had been on the other side of that war.

" -- And at Christmas break we're going to spend a month in Argentina. One of the officers I trained has an estancia a couple of hours from Buenos Aires. He's retired now and I have a standing invitation to come and hunt with him. Winter up here is summer down there, you know." Greg and Barb both nodded; they enjoyed hunting too.

"Bucolic bliss on a farm isn't exactly what I had in mind," said Katryn through our bond. "You promised me a few days in New York, my darling master."

"And you will have them," I answered the same way. "But the farm has something to recommend it to us. The fields are rented out on a crop-percentage basis. There isn't a neighbor for a mile in any direction. The barn is quite deserted. It's used for hay and grain storage now. It has a pulley system for loading things into the loft that can lift a ton, and a line of peach trees behind it that hasn't been pruned in awhile. There are any number of nice, whippy switches there just waiting to be used on a naughty slut dangling helpless with her feet off the ground and a spreader bar between her ankles, my precious slave-wife. We can be as loud and as nasty as we like there. What do you think of it now?"

Katryn's chest flushed and her eyes shone. She shivered in eager anticipation of the pleasures that awaited her, and us.

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Sir GalahadSir Galahadabout 6 years agoAuthor
Anonymous, I think you are mixing up two stories.

As the header says, I think you are confusing two stories. Al Fredericks is a Mustang, up from the ranks, who received an Army battlefield commission. He retired as a major in Special Forces. He had a grandfather who was a Merchant Mariner, which was established on page 1; Al used one of his granddad's cargo operations problems to teach Kitty Vaughn a practical application of solid geometry. But Al Fredericks is US Army all the way.

In "Now We Are No Longer Strangers," Lieutenant Commander Wallace Michaels, USN, is a Merchant Mariner who holds a 200 Ton Master's License, and also licenses as a Third Mate, Unlimited, on Oceans and as a Third Assistant Engineer, Steam & Diesel. He's the protagonist of an entirely different story. If you haven't read it, you might enjoy it.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

Nice job with the ESP, but negative points for making him a Green Beret— a Merchant Mariner with a Navy Reserve commission should have put him on Seal Team 6! Also, I thought it strange that at their first sexual encounter he managed to get undressed twice... most of us have to have to get dressed before we remove our clothes a second time!

Azrael556Azrael556over 10 years ago
Oh, SWEET

I hadn't checked your page in a couple years since I thought you'd given it up. This was a treasure to find, even better than "The Accidental Master."

Only hangup is there is no way to get a third award CIB the way the Army's written the eligibility requirements. It goes by chronological era- if you got a Desert Storm or Somalia CIB, you don't get one for Iraq/Afghanistan. Goes back to when a bunch of 82nd and Ranger guys tried getting repeat stars for Grenada and Panama and the Korea/Vietnam crew of the Ranger Association laughed themselves sick at it.

If you and I are ever near the same grid square, first beer's on me.

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
Bravo

Very good story, I liked it a lot. One possible nit, a Major would not normally retire with 30 years service. Lt Col can retire with 28 or less, Majors with 26 or less. The army operates on an up or out basis, to make room for lower ranks to be promoted. There may be some wiggle room for former enlisted who get a commission, but it would be a major (pun not intended) exception. The army needs a relatively young officer corps, and the incentive to be promoted to be able to maximize retirement income is a factor as well.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 13 years ago
Great story

I just wish that you would post more stories. A lot more. :-)

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