Military

Private Myra Jonson wasn’t going quietly. Nobody was explaining anything, and the four dead-eyed goons currently man-handling her weren’t in uniform and hadn’t identified themselves. Whatever they’d said to the guard room sergeant seemed to be enough for him and the other MP on duty to stand aside, and the MPs had never even explained why they’d arrested her earlier that day. But she couldn’t resist them for long and eventually, with ankles shackled and her wrists cuffed to a belt around her waist, she was forced to quickly hobble outside and then bundled into the back of an anonymous grey van, which sped off into the night. ...

Story Submitted By Flyer - [email protected] - Please e-mail any comments you may have to the author “O.K., sign here, here, and here,” said the payroll clerk. I signed my name to a stack of paperwork in front of me. As if I had a choice. I had been in the military for 3 years. I lived off post, so as to hide my fetish. I loved rubber. Even on my small military pay, I was able to mass a good size collection of masks, helmets, suits, and the like. However on an unannounced inspection of my off-base housing, I was found out. Even though I’m straight, I was on my way to a dishonorable discharge under the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. ...

(story continues from The Babe Bomb) Part Two “Doctor, we have a problem.” James Watson gazed around the now familiar office. The last time he’d been here, one of his inventions had been misused. Now, turning his attention to the man behind the desk, he frowned. “What have you done now?” Major George Franklin returned the frown. As head of a top secret special projects division, he’d borne the blame for the earlier fiasco. It had taken months for the waves from that one to die down, and Franklin had been lucky to keep his rank. Now, leaning back in his chair, he gazed at Watson thoughtfully, as if choosing his words very carefully. ...

“The Major will see you now.” “About time.” Rising from his chair James Watson strode towards the door leading to Major Franklin’s private office. Stepping in, he glared at the major. “What in hell,” he asked coldly, “do you think you were doing?” “Professor Watson,” Franklin replied smoothly, “I always know precisely what I’m doing. I do what needs to be done.” “And that includes breaking into my lab? Stealing my work?” ...