The Colonel and His Aide

This story is about an army officer and his aide. It could be any army, not just the U.S. Army. It could be any war, any insurgency, not just the present one. The story is meant to portray the power of love over sorrow and regret. It's my first story with a transgender character. I hope I don't offend anybody. I certainly didn't mean to. I invite your comments, as always. Enjoy.

*

The battle had been lost, though thankfully at little cost. The insurgents had taken an important village, and driven the government forces out. Colonel John Strong had been with his troops until the very end, when shrapnel from a grenade had ended his fight. Wounded seriously in the thigh, but vigorously arguing against being evacuated, he had been taken from the battlefield, all the while directing his troops in as orderly a retreat as possible. Then and only then, when his soldiers were as safe as he could make them, had he passed out from his injuries.

Now, a week later, the insurgents still held the town, but the Colonel had made no effort to retake it. Instead, he seemed saddened and depressed by his defeat—something he saw as his failure. His officers had tried explaining to him that the insurgents outnumbered the government two to one. It hadn't helped. The Colonel had remained upset and unnerved. Now, after being moved to a hospital in the rear, he was being uncooperative with the nursing staff. He was hardly eating and not performing his physical therapy, with was vital to his recovery.

Finally, his battlefield aide, Captain Murphy, had hit upon the idea of getting the Colonel's headquarters aide to visit him in the hospital. Her name was Denise Demure, and she was a second lieutenant. She had been with the Colonel about six months, and they had seemed to work well together. Lt. Demure was efficient, punctual, and knowledgeable. She also looked damn good in her uniform.

Capt. Murphy picked up the phone and called headquarters.

"Put me through to Colonel Strong's office," he said curtly.

"Colonel Strong's office, Lieutenant Demure speaking" said a feminine, though slightly husky voice on the other end.

"Demure, this is Captain Murphy. I need for you to report to the hospital where Colonel Strong is being held ASAP."

There was a pause. "Is the Colonel all right?" Demure asked.

"Not really," Murphy replied. "He's off his feed, won't cooperate with the nurses or therapists, seems despondent, that sort of thing."

"Does it have to do with the outcome of the battle, sir?"

"Of course it does, Demure. The staff has tried to explain that it was hopeless and that his withdrawal was textbook-perfect, you know, minimal casualties and all that. But he feels he's a failure." Murphy paused. "We'd like you to come here and see if you can get the old man back on his feet, so to speak."

I know just what to do, Captain. I'll be there tomorrow evening," Lt. Demure said quietly.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that," Murphy said. "See you tomorrow," he said, and hung up.

The next evening at 1800 hours, a slender, petite female figure appeared in the corridor leading to the Colonel's room. She was carrying a laptop computer, a briefcase, and a military travel bag. With brisk clicks of highly polished high heels, she stepped up to the two sentries at the door.

The soldiers saluted smartly. "May I help you, Ma'am?" one of them asked.

"I'm Lt. Demure, Corporal. I'm here to see the Colonel," she replied.

"Yes ma'am. Hold one, please." The soldier picked up a phone, spoke quietly, hung up, and turned to Lt. Demure.

"Capt. Murphy will be here momentarily. He wishes to speak to you before you go in."

Lt. Demure stood quietly, waiting for the captain to appear. While she did so, the two soldiers surreptitiously eyed her. In her smartly tailored green uniform jacket and skirt she cut quite a figure. Denise Demure's calves were finely muscled, her ankles slender, her thighs firm, her bottom pert and well-rounded, even under her skirt.

Her hair was dark chocolate brown, cut short and professional. Her lips were full and moist in a pixie-cute face, with a slightly upturned nose. She wore only a small amount of good quality makeup, and she applied it expertly. Denise smiled often, and the tiniest of wrinkles at the corners of her blue eyes betrayed an inner good humor and mischief. In her uniform, Lt. Demure held her shoulders squarely, but beneath the cuffs of her jacket, her hands were fine and feminine. A light scent of perfume wafted over to the soldiers. She was an altogether attractive young woman.

A couple of minutes passed, and Capt. Murphy strode down the hall. Lt. Demure and the soldiers all three saluted. Capt. Murphy took Demure's elbow and led her away from the soldiers. His ruddy face with its bulbous nose betrayed his worry.

"I'm worried about Col. Strong," Murphy said. "I'm hoping you can cheer him up."

"I'll do my best, sir," the young female officer replied.

Murphy looked closely at Demure. "I've taken the liberty of ordering his favorite meal with a bottle of wine. Try to loosen him up, Lieutenant. He thinks he's to blame for losing that town."

"I understand, sir. At least our casualties were light," Demure said quietly and earnestly.

"No dead, just a few wounded. There would have been many more except that the old man conducted a brilliant withdrawal. Best I've ever seen." Murphy had looked at her when he said "old man" but Demure hadn't said or indicated anything except her attention to the mission.

"Is the food in there now, sir?" Demure asked.

"It is. See if you can get him to eat. Also, try to get a sleeping pill into him. He needs to sleep. We're counting on you, Demure."

Denise looked into Murphy's sad, tired eyes and said, "He'll eat and sleep when I'm done with him, sir."

"Thank you. Good night." Murphy accepted Demure's salute, then turned to the soldiers on guard. "No visitors, and no disturbances, unless Lt. Demure or I say so. Clear?"

"Clear, sir," both soldiers replied smartly.

Murphy left, and Demure turned to the hospital door, opened it and entered the Colonel's room.

Colonel John Strong, a grizzled, hard-featured man of sixty-two years, lay propped up in bed. He had closely-cropped gunmetal gray hair, piercing blue-black eyes, a prominent chin, and a firm, thin-lipped mouth. The room was quiet and dark, except for the light over the head of the bed. Colonel Strong's eyes were closed. His normally sunburned face was pale. There were bags under his eyes, and he sported a beard of several days' growth. On the table beside the bed was a tray with a bottle of wine, a steak, roasted potatoes, and green beans.

Demure noticed that there were two wine glasses and two sets of silverware. There was also a pitcher of water on the table.

Strong turned to her and said, "Lt. Demure, why are you here? I didn't send for you."

Demure saluted smartly and said, "I know sir. Capt. Murphy sent for me. There are reports to fill out, orders to be given..."

"What's the use, Demure? I lost the battle. I'm surprised I still have a command."

Denise smiled her prettiest. "Tell you what, sir. Let's not talk about business tonight. Let's eat dinner and relax. You could use a shave. How's your leg?"

"It hurts, but not too much. A piece of shrapnel grazed me. It's not infected, at least."

"Then, with respect, sir, why haven't you been doing your physical therapy?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant. I'm feeling very low right now. The disgrace of losing that..."

"Please sir, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow," Denise said firmly. "Right now, tonight, we're going to eat, relax, and sleep. That's an order."

"Oh, all right," the Colonel said gruffly.

"First, though, I'm going to get comfortable," Denise said.

She opened her travel bag on a chair by the bed and, making sure the Colonel could see her, Lt. Denise Demure began undressing.

First, she removed her black high heels. Then she took off her uniform jacket and draped it carefully over the chair. Next she unfastened and stepped out of her green uniform skirt and folded it carefully. She was now in her shift and underwear, and her white uniform shirt with its tie. She untied the tie and draped it over the chair, then removed the crisp white shirt. This she folded carefully and set aside. Her bra was white and plain, but of excellent quality; her breasts, small and round, contained perfectly within. Denise hooked her fingers into her shift and lowered it to the floor, stepping daintily out of it. She was left in her white bra and sensible cotton panties, white garter belt and high quality nylon stockings. Colonel Strong watched Denise's performance with rapt eyes. For the first time in weeks, his mind was not on the battle and his perceived mistakes. Instead, he watched his lovely aide undress in front of him. His eyes, his soul, drank in her modest beauty.

With pale, delicate hands, Denise undid the clasps on her garter belt and removed first one, then the other of her stockings. She stepped out of the garter belt and tossed it onto the chair. She rummaged briefly in her travel bag and got out a man's t-shirt.

"Is that mine?" the Colonel asked.

"Of course, sir. Whose else would it be?"

Denise reached around behind her and deftly undid the clasp of her bra, then shrugged forward a little and removed the article. Her breasts appeared, small and round, with tight little brown nipples, erect from ...what? She bent and picked up the t-shirt and, as she did so, the scent of her perfume drifted over to the Colonel. He became aroused. Even when she had slipped the thin cotton shirt on, her taut little nipples could still be seen. Once again, she bent and rummaged in the travel bag. This time, she held up a very feminine, very girly pair of silk panties, light green (in keeping with Army tradition), and held them up for the Colonel's inspection. He swallowed and nodded "yes" wordlessly. She carefully laid the panties on the bed next to the Colonel, then hooked her thumbs into the sensible "granny panties" she usually wore under her uniform. She pulled them slowly down to her ankles, bending at her slender waist directly facing the Colonel. She stepped out of the panties and straightened up, revealing to Strong's avid gaze a semi-erect, perfectly formed, five-inch circumcised penis.

Lt. Demure started to reach for the panties on the bed, but Colonel Strong said, "Wait. Please."

Denise smiled at him and stood straight up. She put her hands on her hips and thrust them out ever so slightly. Her cock was fully erect now, curving upward.

"Do you like what you see, Colonel?

"Yes, Baby Doll. I thought I might never see you again."

"That was never going to happen. You know that," Denise said quietly.

"Come here, then," he said huskily.

"Not yet, sir," Denise quickly reached over and got the green silk panties and put them on over her bulging penis. "We have work to do."

Denise arranged the table beside the bed, poured wine, and set up the tray for them to eat. Colonel Strong never once took his eyes off her.

She sat on the bed beside him and then scooted up close to him. She picked up her glass and drank, and began to eat.

"Don't I even get a kiss?" the Colonel muttered a little peevishly.

Denise paused and kissed his hairy cheek. She frowned. "You're getting a shave tonight, mister," she said. "Now eat. I—we—the Army needs you strong and well."

"Yes, ma'am," the Colonel said and picked up the utensils.

Half an hour later, most of the meal had been eaten, and all of the wine had been drunk. The Colonel had earned a couple more kisses, including one on the lips, which he particularly enjoyed.

"Thank you, Denise, for coming. I needed this," he said.

Denise looked at her man and her eyes brimmed with tears, but only for a moment. She swallowed hard and said, "Oh Daddy, I was so worried about you! When they told me you'd been wounded, I was so scared. And then I couldn't come right away."

The Colonel quieted her and said, "I wasn't hurt bad—physically. But to lose that battle, and those men! I've just ..."

"Colonel, there were no deaths on our side. You pulled out at just the right moment. You'll take the town back. I know it."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. And now it's time for a shave, and bed. I'm tired and so are you. I can tell."

She cleared the tray away and got a basin of warm water, a can of shaving cream, and a razor. Arranging everything carefully on the table, and once again scooting up close to her Colonel, she began to shave him carefully.

Most of the time, Colonel Strong kept his hands to himself, but once he did reach up to feel her breast. Denise slapped his hand and said, "Uh-uh, mister. I've got a razor in my hand, remember?" When she was finished, Denise ran her delicate fingers along his jaw and said, "Now there's my squared-away soldier." She leaned over and gave him a kiss full of promise.

Then it was time for bed, and Denise climbed in beside him. She snuggled up against him, burrowing her ass into his crotch. The Colonel reached over to take hold of her semi-erect penis, but Denise said "Not tonight, mister. Sleep first, then work tomorrow, then we'll see what happens."

"Oh, all right," the Colonel harrumphed. "Good night, Baby Doll."

"Good night, Daddy,"

As they drifted off to sleep, Denise reflected briefly on the fact that a sleeping pill had not been needed.

The alarm clock beside the bed went off at six a.m. Denise awoke to find the Colonel sitting on the side of the bed.

"Good morning, sir," she said languidly, stretching.

"Good morning, young lady," the Colonel replied.

"How well did you sleep, Colonel?"

"Better than I have in a while," he conceded, a bit gruffly.

Denise got out of bed, her morning hard-on announcing her need to pee. Colonel Strong watched her tight butt jiggle as she went to the bathroom.

By six-forty, Lieutenant Denise Demure had showered and changed into her uniform. About that time a knock came at the door. She opened it and there stood a middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform. The middle-aged nurse smiled tightly, looked Denise up and down, and announced it was time for the Colonel to begin his day. He had breakfast, then therapy, then a meeting with his officers, all of which he had been avoiding since he'd come to the hospital.

Today, Nurse Hackett was prepared to argue with Colonel Strong, as she had every other day. Instead, somewhat grudgingly, the colonel cooperated. She looked a him and said, "Who shaved you?"

The Colonel was about to answer when Lt. Demure answered, "The Colonel shaved himself."

The nurse looked from one to the other. It was clear she didn't quite know what to think. Lt. Demure turned to the Colonel, executed a sharp salute, and said, "With the Colonel's permission, sir, I have work to do."

Colonel Strong saluted and said, "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

When Demure left the room, Capt. Murphy was waiting for her.

"How did it go last night, Lieutenant?"

"It went fine, sir. He ate and slept. He talked a little about the battle, but not much."

"What's he doing now?" Murphy asked.

"The nurse is in there helping him to the shower. He didn't protest when she laid out the plan of the day for him."

"Including the officers' meeting?"

"Yes, sir," Demure said.

"Good. Good work, Lieutenant. I take it you'll be back this evening?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be back at 1800 hours to spend the night again."

"Good. I'll arrange for you to have an office to work in until then."

"Thank you, sir," she said and saluted.

Demure took her briefcase and laptop and followed one of the soldiers down the hall to an empty office, where she set up and began working.

Then, for just a moment, she allowed herself to think about John Strong, her "Daddy."

He had spotted her early in her career and had chosen her to be his aide. At first, their relationship had been strictly professional. He was decisive, aggressive, and cared about the troops under his command. He was also lonely, and a bit conflicted about the war he was prosecuting. He was a widower.

Lt. Denise Demure had been quiet, efficient, and squared away. It had taken her only a short time to be able to anticipate her Colonel's needs and provide for them. They had worked many long hours together, and, gradually begun responding to each other as a man and woman.

The Colonel, a circumspect man, had known it was unethical to make advances, and yet he had slowly succumbed to her. Not that she had tried to seduce him. It had just happened. Denise was, after all, a young attractive woman.

And a woman was exactly what she was, despite the appendage between her legs. Denise had dressed, acted, thought, in fact lived as a woman all her life. The careful use of hormones and depilatories, makeup, hair styles, and voice coaching had made her a woman in every way but one.

When she had joined the Army, her personal physician had examined her, declared her fit for service, and signed her paperwork. Since then, she had lived carefully within the military, keeping to herself, living privately. When Colonel Strong had offered her a job as aide, she had taken it gladly. Strong had come to rely heavily on her. During working hours, the two maintained a strict professionalism.

After hours, it was a different story. Only Capt. Murphy and one or two other officers knew about their relationship (though not about Denise's situation). But nothing was said. The Colonel and Lt. Demure worked well together and made a good team. Strong was a very able battlefield commander. He was needed as focused and content as possible. Demure made him so. Murphy wasn't about to rock the boat.

When they had slept together for the first time, and Denise had undressed, terrified, in front of him, Strong had expressed surprise.

But then he'd said, "This is a dream come true, Denise."

They'd made love all night long. The colonel had given as well as he'd received. At five a.m., exhausted, Denise had snuggled into his arms for some badly-needed sleep. But before she dozed off, she'd whispered, "Will you be my big strong Daddy?"

"Of course. Will you be my little Baby Doll?"

"Yes, Daddy, I will."

*

She arrived at his hospital room at five forty-five. Capt. Murphy met her outside the door.

"How did it go today, sir?" she asked.

"Much better, Lieutenant. He ate his meals and did his physical therapy. He took a shower."

"What about the officers' meeting?"

Murphy looked worried. "He put us off. Again. Said he wasn't ready, yet."

"I'll try to get him to talk about it tonight, sir," Denise said.

"Good girl," Murphy said, and then, "Oops, I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"It's all right, sir," Denise replied, looking him in the eye.

Murphy found himself slightly aroused by the sexual allure he saw in the young female officer's eyes. The Colonel was a lucky man.

Denise entered the room to find Colonel Strong in clean pajamas, sitting on the side of the bed, a meal tray in front of him. With the door safely closed behind them, and no visitors expected, she said, "Hi Daddy," and walked over quickly to give him a big kiss on the lips.

"Good evening, Baby Doll," he said, returning her kiss.

Because she knew he liked to see her that way, she changed into a t-shirt and panties again. Then she sat down beside him to share his meal.

Leaning on him a little, she said, "You smell good, Daddy."

"I got a shower today. I feel some better," he said.

"How's your leg?"

"It's better. See?" he said, flexing it back and forth and only wincing a little.

"Colonel, you have to meet with your officers."

His face took on a pained expression. "I don't think I'm ready, Denise."

Denise got behind him and began massaging his big square shoulders. "You're going to have to review the action sometime, sir."