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Author's Note: Here's one way that Monica and Rachel can get some revenge for
what they have suffered; for another see Ch. 7a.



Friends: Friends Join the Navy Chapter 4a (FF,oral,viol)
by Exintaris ([email protected])

"Sweet dreams, lieutenant," said Ron Smith mockingly as they left Rachel at
the officers' quarters. "Don't try anything stupid, now, like trying to get
into the armoury or sending for help. We'll be watching for that."

As they walked away, Peter Jarvis said in a worried tone, "I don't
understand. Why are you so laid back? She's bound to tell Lieutenant Geller,
and then we're in total shit."

"Not at all," said Ron Smith. "I'll bring Geller's crew in on this, as soon
as they get back. I have a strong feeling they'll go in with us. Then we'll
outnumber the officers, even without the help of those two wimps Jensen and
Holmes, and we can have both the officers as our fucktoys! That Geller could
be a real good fuck." He licked his lips at the thought.

What he did not know was that Monica, ever cautious and concerned to maintain
control, had anticipated possible trouble with two all-male crews and signed
out two revolvers and some ammunition from the armoury "for personal
security". She had told Rachel where they were, as an extra precaution, and
Rachel hurried to get them at once, even before trying to do something for
her poor torn breasts. She found them, checked them over to make sure they
were loaded, and took them with her into the bathroom. She knew better than
to make any move before Monica got back, and in any case she needed to get
herself under control. She was still shaking with rage at what had happened
to her, and had to make a big effort to restrain herself from going out and
starting shooting at once.

In a while, when she was calmer, she began to wash her breasts, trying to
make sure the cuts left by the gulls' beaks were perfectly clean, and applied
soothing ointment to them and her nipples. Finally, when she felt she had
done all she could, she left her bloodied shirt to soak and got out a clean
one and a new bra, but she did not put them on; she could not stand the
thought of anything rubbing against her breasts just then. Going through
these simple procedures calmed her down further. Somewhat to her surprise,
she found courage and determination in herself. She was firmly resolved to
get payback for what had been done to her by Smith and Jarvis, and the
fishermen, but she would not rush into it wildly. She simply sat on her bed
and waited, the guns by her. It occurred to her that Monica was unusually
late.

Then she heard a shuffling step, quite unlike Monica's usual briskness. It
worried her, and she got up to go out and see. Monica was standing in the
front doorway, leaning on the frame as if she was very weary, and she looked
like hell. Her shirt hung open, buttonless, showing no bra underneath. It
and her skirt were crumpled and covered in stains, and so was she, all over
her limbs, her body, her face, even her hair. To Rachel the stains looked
like dried come. Worst of all was the expression of despair on her face.

Monica's eyes focused on Rachel's bare breasts, and her eyes widened in
horror. They spoke at the same moment. "What the hell happened to you?" Then
Rachel ran forward and took Monica in her arms.

"My poor, poor Mon!" she said. "You look even worse than me. Come tell me
what happened." She locked the outside door, then half-led, half-supported
Monica into her
room.

"Oh Rachel," Monica said in a moaning voice. "I've been raped - and raped -
and raped."

"By your own crew?" said Rachel sharply.

"Not just them," said Monica slowly. "We ran into these smugglers - my crew
were not alert, and they overwhelmed us, though I shot one, and I got hit on
the head. When I came to, I found those bastards in my crew had bartered my
body for our lives. Oh God, Rachel," she was getting slightly more animated,
"there was this big fat man who was the captain, who had the most enormous
cock, and he screwed me first, but while he was doing it two of my crew
started forcing their cocks into my mouth, and then I had all the rest on me,
for what seemed like hours. There were maybe ten of the smugglers, and all
my crew, and the fat man - " She broke down in sobs.

Full of sympathy, Rachel hugged her and murmured soothingly. Presently Monica
seemed to recover a little and asked what had happened to Rachel.

"Well, it was similar, but not so long, and did not involve so many," she
began, and quickly outlined the whole story.

"I'll bet they'll get together and think they can have us for their
fucktoys," she said. "But they don't know about these." She picked up a
revolver, grinning rather fiercely.

Monica's face brightened and she sat up straighter. "Oh God, I had forgotten
all about those, but you remembered? Oh Rachel, how . how smart of you, when
you'd been through so much." She picked up the other revolver and hefted it.
"They're loaded?"

Rachel nodded. "I've checked them over. So, should we go get them now, do
you think? They might get rifles out of the armoury, and then we'd have no
advantage."

Monica frowned in thought. "They have no reason to think we're not totally
defenceless," she said finally. "I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to
come get us for more fun and games - in fact," she cocked her head, "I think
I can hear them right now."

Now her face showed resolution, and she squared her shoulders and stood up.
Secretly, Rachel was relieved; she did not think she could handle it if
Monica broke down completely.

"Let's show these scum, Rachel," Monica said grittily. "Be ready to shoot
as soon as they come in. Remember, they're mutineers, and can be killed
outright, though I'll give them warning."

"I'd be happy to shoot that bastard Smith as dead as a doornail," said Rachel
through her teeth, standing up with her and putting on her shirt.

They heard footsteps and then someone tried the door.

"Now, lieutenants, open up," came the voice of Watson, the senior man in
Monica's crew, with false joviality. "You know it'll go worse with you if we
have to break in. We only want a little fun."

"Go away, you bastards," cried Monica in a wailing voice, as if she was
scared. She beckoned to Rachel, and they tiptoed out to stand in the hallway,
guns at the ready, some spare ammunition in their free hands.

The door shuddered from a heavy blow, probably a kick.

"I'm warning you, if you break in you'll regret it," Monica cried, still in a
quavering tone. "You're in a state of mutiny."

There was laughter from outside. After further heavy blows, suddenly the door
swung open. Instantly Monica and Rachel began firing. There were shouts and
screams as the first two men went down, Watson being one of them, and then
more. Some began running away, but Monica and Rachel ran after them. They
jumped over the fallen bodies and saw there were only two men in front of
them.

"Halt or I shoot!" yelled Monica, and fired in the air.

The two men froze and turned. One seemed to be hurt; his right arm hung
loose, and they could see blood on it.

Monica advanced, her gun levelled; Rachel walked steadily by her side. She
noticed the last two crewmen emerging from the men's quarters, and pointed
her gun instantly. "Hands in the air!" she yelled.

They threw their hands up. "We weren't part of it, lieutenant, I swear," one
called.

Rachel recognised Jensen and Holmes, the two of her crew who had not been
involved in raping her. The other two men were Monica's. She took a savage
satisfaction in knowing that the ones who had attacked her from her own crew
were down.

"You men," said Monica, pointing at Jensen and Holmes. "Put these two in the
brig. Do you have rifles?"

"Sure, lieutenant," said Jensen, a sandy haired young seaman who, Rachel
remembered, had always been pleasant, without any undertone of impatience at
being commanded by a woman. "But Jarvis lost his to those fishermen who,
who ..." He looked at Rachel, his eyes full of horror.

"It's okay, Jensen," said Rachel.

"We, we just didn't know what to do," said Holmes, a thin bespectacled man.
"They had guns and we didn't, and when Watson's crew came back they
outnumbered us. I'm real sorry, ma'am."

"No problem," said Rachel dismissively. "Here, Jensen, you take this revolver
and escort these fine gentlemen to the brig, while Lieutenant Geller and I
find some rifles."

"We better hurry," said Monica. "I think there's a delegation coming."

They hurried to the men's quarters, where Monica sighed with relief as she
got hold of a rifle. She worked it to make sure it was loaded. They found
another for Rachel, and she handed over her revolver and ammunition to
Holmes.

Then they went outside, guns at the ready, to find a mob of fishermen.
Virgil, holding the rifle taken from Jarvis, was in the front rank, with his
crew beside him, but they only had knives, except from the fat man siding him
who held Rachel's revolver.

"What - " Virgil began, but Monica's voice overrode him.

"Drop those guns now!" she yelled, levelling her gun at Virgil, while
Rachel pointed hers at the fat man. Jensen and Holmes also brought up their
revolvers.

"At once, or you're dead!" Monica shouted.

"You can't - " Virgil began.

Monica fired. With a cry, Virgil fell backwards. Instantly, before Rachel
could react to Monica's unexpectedly fast action, the fat man dropped his
revolver. Rachel kept her rifle trained on him.

"Get back!" Monica screamed, swinging her gun to and fro on the others.
"Everyone get back from those guns! They're Navy property!"

Looking terrified, most of them retreated fast. Only the fat man seemed
frozen in place. Maybe he thinks I'm gonna shoot him if he moves, Rachel
thought. Or maybe he's just worried about Virgil.

"You!" she said, taking a hand off her rifle to point at him, but keeping the
rifle levelled, propped on her stomach. "You're under arrest for raping me,
and so are all the others of Virgil's crew. I want them all handed over."

As if their crime was contagious, the other fishermen withdrew, leaving four
men isolated in the middle.

"Move it!" yelled Monica. "You're all going to jail. Resist, and you'll be
shot."

"Uh, ma'am," said the fat man pleadingly, "what about Virgil? He ain't dead."

Indeed, they could hear Virgil moaning softly.

Monica thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "You get him picked up and put
him on a bed in the sickbay. Jensen will show you where. Jensen, you take
that rifle, and Holmes, you side him."

"Aye aye, ma'am," they said, sounding pleased.

Rachel and Monica kept their guns levelled as Virgil's crew gathered to
collect him, but it seemed that they had abandoned all thought of resistance.
Heads hung, they carried Virgil off, escorted by a watchful Jensen and
Holmes.

"Well, I guess we better see how much damage we've done to those bastards,"
said Monica conversationally.

She and Rachel walked back to the doorway of the officers' quarters. They
found that Watson was dead, and Ron Smith was probably dying, Monica's
crewman John Berger was gut-shot, and Rachel's crewman Peter Jarvis, the
only one who seemed fully conscious, had bad wounds in the shoulder and
leg.

"Don't . don't kill me, lieutenant," he pleaded, tears running out of his
eyes, as Rachel looked down at him grimly.

"You're lucky," she said. "I can't shoot you in cold blood, though I'd be
entitled to, I guess. No, you'll live, but you'll do plenty of hard time and
then be discharged in disgrace. Pretty smart, to throw away your life for a
fuck."

He sighed and shut his eyes.

Having locked the fishermen up, Jensen and Holmes then had to be told to
bring some out again to get the shot crewmen to the sickbay as well, while
Watson's body was wrapped and put to one side. Even before this had been
done, Monica was in the communications room, sending out calls for
reinforcements, medics, and military police.

She came out and said to Rachel, "They'll start getting here around
nightfall. Some will be coming by flying boat, I guess. So now we can relax."

"What, aren't we going after the smugglers?" Rachel joked, and then wished
she hadn't, for an expression of great pain came over Monica's face.

"Oh Mon, I'm so sorry!" she cried, instinctively stepping forward and putting
an arm round her.

Monica laid her head on her shoulder for a second, then lifted it again and
drew a long breath. "It's okay," she said. "I feel better now that things are
under control here. Let's go and clean ourselves up properly."

She would have gone in the shower on her own, but Rachel insisted on
accompanying her. "We can trust Jensen, I'm sure," she said. She had put him
in charge and given him some suggestions.

Monica was actually very grateful for Rachel's help, for she was shaky, now
that the adrenalin had worn off. She gladly accept Rachel's offer to soap
her, especially in parts not so easy to reach. Rachel did it with impersonal
efficiency, not caressing her in any way, though Monica felt that she would
happily accept such caresses, that she actively wanted them. Rachel could not
imagine how she had borne so much; what she herself had taken had been bad
enough, but that had only involved eight men doing her once and then ... the
tortures. She shuddered as she remembered the pain.

"Are you okay, Rach?" said Monica, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Just . remembering," said Rachel bleakly, "but, oh Mon, you must have had it
so much worse than I did." She put her hands on Monica's shoulders and looked
at her, trying to convey her loving sympathy in her gaze. It had been rather
exciting to soap her; it had made Rachel have all sorts of strange but
pleasant feelings.

They stood in the shower and looked at each other for what seemed a long
time. Then slowly they leaned in and kissed, full on the lips, moved closer
and put their arms around each other, still gazing steadily at each other,
smiling now, feeling no need for words. Rachel was reminded that Monica was
actually a bit smaller and slighter than she was, which made her feel
protective. The sight of Rachel's wounded breasts aroused a similar instinct
in Monica, especially when she gasped in pain as Monica came close and her
breasts brushed against Rachel's.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry!" said Monica remorsefully. "Your poor breasts!" She
bent down and kissed them once each, very gently. Rachel felt almost as if
the kisses were taking away some of the pain.

"Mon, I - " she began, but Monica put a finger on her lips.

"People will be arriving soon," she said, "and we can't leave Jensen and
Holmes for too long on their own. But ... we talk later?"

"Later," Rachel agreed.

With shy smiles at each other, they dried themselves and dressed in their
cleanest outfits. They took over the galley, where Monica gave them both some
useful therapy by organising the preparation of a meal, enough to feed Jensen
and Holmes too. Then there was nothing to do but wait for support to arrive.

* * *

It was much longer than they expected before they could talk further about
the feelings that they seemed to be developing for each other. When she heard
what had happened to them, the female medic who had arrived ordered that they
should go to base at once.

"Something needs to be done about your breasts at once," she said to
Rachel, "or they could become infected, especially on the nipples. And you,
Lieutenant Geller, could have suffered real injury to your vagina. Also, both
of you need to be checked over for STDs and given something to ensure you
don't get pregnant. You get packing right now; that's an order."

Since she was a commander as well as their temporary doctor, they did not
dare disobey. In fact, both found it a relief to leave the tangled situation
at the post behind them. They told everything they could in outline to the
officer in charge of the first squad to arrive, and then boarded a boat and
relaxed, slumped against each other, until they got to base, by which time
it was well into the night. They were given some emergency treatment with
ointment, a double room in the officers' mess was found for them, since they
asked to be together, and they simply stripped and fell into their beds,
exhausted.

The following morning Monica was the first to awake. As soon as she moved the
soreness in her holes and stiffness in her throat and body reminded her of
her ordeal, but other memories returned also, including the sweet kiss and
embrace she had exchanged with Rachel. She turned over to look at her, and
saw that there was a smile on her face. Her heart turned over, and she knew
that she was not going back on what the kiss signified; rather, she actively
wanted to take it further. She only hoped that Rachel felt the same way.

She eased out of the bed and tiptoed over to Rachel. As she got close Rachel
opened her eyes and smiled at her.

"I guess maybe I have a sixth sense where you're concerned," she said.

"Can I get in with you?" said Monica hopefully.

"Of course," said Rachel, throwing back the bedclothes.

Monica got in and moved close to her in a rather gingerly way, careful of her
breasts. But Rachel chuckled and pushed herself into her arms.

"They don't hurt so much this morning," she said, "and anyway, I'd rather
feel you close to me, even if it hurts."

Monica moved closer still and threw her arms around her, feeling a rush of
love, and decided to show Rachel something of her feelings at once. "Sweetie,
you saved us both," she said. "You could so easily have gone to pieces and
forgotten about the guns, and I was feeling so awful I wasn't in a state to
remember."

"Why do you think your crew let you go?" Rachel said, rather anxious to turn
the conversation, since Monica was looking at her with such open adoration it
was almost embarrassing.

"I guess they couldn't come up with a good story to explain my disappearance
right then, and maybe they hoped to keep having me as their whore, and to
make you submit too," said Monica. "But of course, if they'd done that,
they'd have had to dispose of us eventually. I wish I could have seen the
look on their faces when we started firing."

"I did see it, on Smith's face," said Rachel fiercely. "He looked absolutely
horrified."

"You were so brave," sighed Monica.

"You were really brave too, Mon," said Rachel hearteningly. "After everything
that had happened to you, you conquered your fear and faced them. It helped
me a lot, to have you beside me. And if you hadn't thought to put those guns
there in the first place ..."

"Thank you," said Monica, and drew close to Rachel's face. Rachel moved
closer to her, and their lips met in a kiss, that went on and became more and
more passionate.

When they parted Rachel gave a little gasp, and said, "Mon, I'm not saying no
or anything, but are we really sure we want this? It's gonna be a big change,
for us."

"I'm sure," said Monica. "For me, the best way I can show my appreciation for
what you've done for me is to give you, not just my love, which you always
had, despite all our fights, but my body - that is, if you want it." She
looked at Rachel anxiously.

Rachel ran her hands down Monica's flanks, then up again, to reach her
breasts. Monica gasped at the thrill as Rachel's hands closed gently over
them.

"I think I do," said Rachel, smiling at her. "I know nothing about this, Mon,
but I do feel I want you. I'm sort of creaming at the thought of doing stuff
with you."

"That's good," said Monica, beaming. Still cautiously, they moved into an
embrace. Rachel loved the feeling of Monica's soft skin against her own, so
different from a man's. But when they drew closer her breasts hurt sharply,
and she could not suppress a gasp of pain. Monica pulled back, looking
unhappy.

"I'm sorry, honey," said Rachel sincerely. "But you know what? Maybe we
shouldn't go too far with this. Both of us is likely still unbalanced
emotionally. We need to take it slow."

Monica's face showed clear disappointment. "I did want to give you my body,"
she said sadly. "We, we ... there's things we could do. I, I think I could
take you ... feeling me a little, on my clit."

She looked so unhappy that Rachel, despite her own misgivings, determined to
try it. But when she felt inside Monica's panties and laid a finger, very
gently, on Monica's clit she winced and hissed sharply.

"Okay," Monica said in a tone of resignation. "You're right. How do you feel,
though?"

Rachel thought. "Not good enough, really," she said honestly. "Monica, I'm
not turning you down. You've made a very fine offer, that I feel I want to
accept. But let's just allow ourselves to recover a bit."

"Can, can we at least look at each other?" Monica pleaded.

Rachel could see no reason why not. She pushed back the bed clothes and both
spread out, each displaying herself for the other's inspection. Rachel found
Monica's neat strip of black bush above her bruised-looking pussy cute, and
told her so. Monica was equally enthusiastic about Rachel's soft brown bush
and generously proportioned pussy lips. Very carefully she ran fingers along
and inside the lips, fearful of hurting Rachel, but she urged her on, saying
she wasn't hurting much there. Monica found it fascinating to investigate
Rachel's vulva, and suddenly she leaned in close and kissed around her mound
tenderly, then finally kissed her softly right on her pussy lips.

Rachel shuddered a little, then sighed. "That feels good, Monica," she said
shakily.

Next Monica tried gently running her tongue up along Rachel's pussy lips to
the area of her clit. Rachel arched up at her, moaning.

"Let me try that on you," she said breathlessly in a moment.

Looking happy, Monica spread her legs willingly, and Rachel moved to lie
between them. But when she ran her tongue along Monica's lips, again Monica
flinched and gasped with pain.

"Oh God, Rachel, I want to give myself to you so much!" she wailed. "But, but
it hurts so - I just can't."

She began to sob. Quickly Rachel moved herself around so they were facing the
same way again and gathered her into her arms. Monica cried helplessly, and
Rachel did nothing to stop her, knowing that this was a release and she would
feel better for it. She confined herself to making soothing noises and giving
her little kisses for comfort.

Finally Monica recovered. "I'm sorry to be such a wimp," she said.

"Honey, you're no wimp!" said Rachel firmly. "It's entirely understandable.
Something really horrible happened to you, and you're not gonna bounce back
from that the next day. Come on, the mood's gone, for now. Let's wash, go
get some breakfast, and then go to the clinic. They'll be waiting for us."

"Okay," said Monica, giving her a watery smile.

Recognising that she might have to be the leader for a while, Rachel did her
best to keep Monica occupied and positive over the next few days, during
which they had treatment for their injuries and for diseases that they had,
indeed, been infected with - but neither had become HIV positive, to their
great relief. Both were also given morning-after pills, although the doctor
dealing with them expressed the view that she could not spot any signs of
pregnancy. They had to give evidence to more than one board of enquiry, and
also were given therapy sessions, to help them deal with what had happened
to them and what they had done.

Neither could honestly feel much regret at having shot the ratings, and their
psychotherapist did not press them on this. It appeared that their superiors
did not fault them for this either; they were completely exonerated at the
formal court martials that had to be held. But it was suggested to them that,
unjust as it might seem, they would attract hostility and resentment from
other male Navy personnel for what they had done, and it would be better all
around if they honourably resigned their commissions. They were promised
considerable compensation as well as excellent references if they were
willing to do this. Since neither felt that she could contemplate continuing
in a Navy career after what had happened, they were very ready to agree.

Both healed well, though Rachel's breasts still bore marks. They did not try
for any physical intimacy after that first morning together, but mentally
they felt they were becoming closer all the time. They had to endure quite a
lot, apart from the official enquiries and their treatment and therapy
sessions. On different occasions each was plagued by flashback nightmares and
had to be comforted by the other, and they also had to deal with the decision
of some well-meaning person to tell their parents that they were okay. Since
their parents had had no idea until then that there was anything wrong, this
caused major upsets. Nothing would prevent Judy Geller from flying down to
see Monica, with Jack and Ross in tow. But this had its positive side, for it
was quite clear that, hypercritical as she was, she loved her daughter very
much. Rachel's parents did not fly down, but they spoke to her many times
over the phone and she drew strength from the love that they expressed. Her
sisters too were properly horrified by what had happened and very
sympathetic; Rachel's relations with them improved enormously.

Their psychotherapist was very pleased with their progress, and when they
confessed that this was in part due to their growing feelings of love for
each other she said she saw nothing wrong in it, and encouraged them to
express their feelings without fear, just to be discreet. In fact, some of
the single male officers tried to interest them in dates, but they found
that, although it was pleasant to go out, they felt no real attraction to
any of them, being increasingly interested in and wanting to spend time
with each other.

There came a final evening when they were all packed up - their remaining
possessions had been brought from the customs post - and ready to fly back
to New York the following day. That evening, after a dinner with wine and
further drinks in the officers' mess with the friends they had made, they
went back to their room in a state of great cheerfulness, arms around each
other.

As Monica let them into their room, her eyes met Rachel's, and she flushed
just a little, but smiled in a way that she hoped was encouraging. And it
was, for as soon as Monica had closed the door Rachel seized her and began
to kiss her very soundly. Monica responded at once with a moan of relief.
Stripping clothes off each other, they edged their way to the nearest bed
and fell on it. Giggling, gasping and groaning with pleasure as they stroked
and fondled each other, they quickly achieved their aim of getting each other
completely naked.

Now Monica began to suck enthusiastically on one of Rachel's breasts, while
Rachel fondled Monica's breasts with one hand and felt for her mound with
the other. Monica arched up against her with a loud moan when she felt her.
Soon Rachel was thrusting a finger regularly into her pussy, while Monica,
panting with eagerness, kissed her and ran her hands all over her.

"Let's do it so we can both lick each other," Rachel gasped eventually.

"Oh yess!" Monica agreed enthusiastically.

They wriggled into position, feeling their arousal increase all the time.
Monica loved the way Rachel shuddered and lifted to her mouth, while growing
thrills ran through her body as Rachel worked her tongue more and more
confidently in her. They licked away at each other with wild excitement,
using fingers and thumbs also, urging each other on. In fact, Monica became
so vocal that Rachel had to warn her to be quiet, or they might attract
attention.

Finally, with thumbs working away at each other's clits in a regular rhythm
and tongues thrusting into each other's pussies, they drove each other to
peaks of pleasure and began to come with muffled squeals of joy, pushing
against each other's faces. Their juices ran, and they licked at them
greedily, continuing to stimulate each other until they finally felt a need
to relax and recover. Then they lay quietly, occasionally giving each other
intimate little caresses and kisses.

"Oh Mon!" sighed Rachel rapturously in a while. "I'm gonna want to do stuff
like that again and again."

"Me too," said Monica before returning one last time to a source of delight
and driving her tongue very deeply into Rachel, who shuddered with new
aftershocks and thrust her tongue convulsively into Monica.

Finally they pulled away and sat up to look at each other lovingly. Rachel
gazed at Monica, proud that she had pleased her so well and happy to have got
such pleasure from her. Monica looked equally proudly, and appreciatively,
back at her.

"You know what I think, Rach?" said Monica, smiling at her.

"No, what?" said Rachel, smiling back.

"I think we could be very happy together."

Rachel reached out and took her hand. "So do I."

    

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