World War IV (open to one woman)

[Douglas Lee]

The rocket hit the helicopter dead-on and sent in the flaming ground in a burning heap of twisted metal and death. The man holding the rocket-propelled grenade launcher was on the ground by the wreckage, lamed by a sprained ankle but still reloading another rocket in to shoot down the second U.S. copter.

The battlefield was beyond abnormal, a plain beside a meandering lowland river. Yet three or four countrues were duking it out there. It was more than a border conflict now. It had started that way, but it wasn't a border conflict anymore. It was all-out war between four countries.

The man with the sprained ankle crawled past where a dead man, guts exposed, lay with his head destroyed by a burst of SAW fire.

The other helicopter zoomed in for a shot with its minigun at the man with the rocket launcher and he panicked, run-limping for cover, and was thrown by the explosion as a rocket from the helicopter hit the ground twenty feet away, slamming him to the ground like a professional wrestler.

Avoiding gunfire from an M-16 and the minigun fire and rockets from the helicopter, all at the same time, the man finally got to cover and lay there, panting and bruised and shot to hell and gone.

He dropped the heavy rocket launcher in favor of his AK-47, coming out from behind the cover of the burnt-out vehicle he had been hiding behind and firing rapidly at the M-16-wielder, then kneeling and firing up at the helicopter hovering just feet above him.

Taking heavy fire, the helicopter hit the ground and exploded in a fiery plume of flame and smoke as the gas leaking from a bullet hole met the fire from a flamethrower fired from below.

The man with the AK shot another man at close-range and dropped the AK in favor of the M-16, checking its magazine quickly as he knelt behind the body of the man he had killed.

This was the life of Derrin Mayburry --- of everyone after the Blast. This was World War IV.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

The life of Lydia Pearl Madison was a bit different.

She was not in this war to kill. Rather, she was there to heal. A medic. She was part of a group called the RMSRG. The Richard Madison Support and Relief Group. It was a branch of her father's corporation, a manufacturer of medical equipment and on the fore-front of medical technology. She, three other doctors, and a dozen nurses were huddled together in a tent just upriver from the onslaught. They were not in a safe place. However, men were bleeding, dying, and they needed medical teams nearby. This meant necessary danger, if they wanted lives to be saved.

Men constantly poured through the tent, taken by the truckload to the nearest base for further treatment. Limbs missing, faces blown off, shrapnel embedded in legs, arms, backs, fronts and skulls. Mortars were nasty things.

Lydia could not count the number of tourniquets she'd put on injured men with their limbs blown off. Actually, she could count. In fact, she had counted, silly as it sounded. Forty-one, on this day alone. And more were coming. The nurses took care of cleanup and sterilization for the most part. It was up to them to see that the wounds didn't get infected.

It was a good two or three miles away that she heard gunfire and bombs. Too close for comfort when it came to war.

After a while, she cleaned herself up and strapped on her kevlar helmet and jacket, taking with her a bag of supplies. It was time to head over with the boys on the truck for a good old buddy run. A buddy run? Well, they'd go out in the truck, and get as many living bodies out as they could while trying not to die.

And just think. Her father had wanted her to stay home.

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin fired off a few three-round bursts from the M-16 he had stolen from an enemy soldier's body and then looked at a man who ran up and crouched nearby.

Fortunately, he recognized the man as his friend and comrade, Sergeant Tiberius Snyder, and didn't shoot.

"Check your fire, man," yelled Snyder, seeing the M-16 quickly point at and away from him.

"Yes sir," Derrin said obediently, ducking bullets still.

"Good," replied Snyder. "Let's go!"

He stood, firing a shotgun blast, and charged forth. Shrapnel as a bomb burst atop a building flying past him, men falling dead, blood spurting. It all made a good backdrop as Sergeant Tiberius Snyder was hit by an antitank round.

The Sarge simply suddenly failed to exist. He was suddenly a pile of blood and guts, no longer a human being, dead or alive.

"Holy shit," whispered Derrin, who was covered head to toe in Tiberius' gore and guts and brains and bone chips. It would be no wooden box for that guy, he was dead as a doornail, in pieces and all.

Wiping blood off his goggles, still favoring his sprained ankle, Derrin crawled from behind the corpse, past Tiberius' new personal pile of gore, and aimed at an opponent aiming the other way, and shot the man, then gasped as he was shot in the shoulder by the guy's friend. Raising the M-16 with trembling, bloody fingers, Derrin killed the second guy.

"That's for the Sarge," he whispered, before pulling up his radio on his helmet's HUD. "We've got a unit under fire west of Tennington Plaza, New City Banks. Send a medic and a coupla APCs, please. Over and out."

Derrin fell to his knees, hoping the medic got here soon.

 

[Douglas Lee]

OOC: Are we continuing or not?

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

OOC: Yes! Sorry. I got busy, forgot to sign out.

The hum of the engine and the serenade of gunfire and mortars in the distance drummed rhythmically into Lydia's ears, if not a bit muffled by the kevlar helmet strapped securely over her head, as the truck sped cautiously towards the city. They were nearly there, and then it would be game on. And then, there came a call over the radio.

"We've got a unit under fire west of Tennington Plaza, New City Banks. Send a medic and a coupla APCs, please. Over and out."

The soldier riding shotgun reached for the radio, but hesitated as a second message came over the radio.

"Negative, soldier. I repeat, negative. The Colonel's ordering an air strike. We advise all units to evacuate. I repeat, the Colonel has ordered an airstrike. You've got a half hour to get your ass out of there, son! Over and out."

The driver jerked the wheel to the right, then started backing up. The soldiers were murmuring amongst themselves. It was obvious they were headed back to their little medical camp.

Lydia scowled, pointing back at the city. "What are you doing?! Didn't hear that guy's voice? He's in trouble! He won't be able to make it out!"

A soldier turned around, fixing a stern eye on her. "Listen, Doc. Ain't no fuckin' way in hell we're turnin' this shit around to get our asses blown off. Fucker's dead. Pray for him or some shit if it bothers you. This is fuckin' war."

Lydia cried out, "You're just going to abandon a-"

The soldier spat. "Yeah, we're leaving his ass. Sorry, Doc."

Lydia couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were right here! They could be in and out before the air strike! That is, assuming they didn't run into trouble. Which they likely would.

She couldn't put her finger on it. Her heart went out to this man to be abandoned. And so, grinding her teeth in firm resolve, she leaped from the truck. She landed hard, legs buckling and she rolled uncontrolably over sharp brush, little thorns biting at her neck and cheeks. When she came to a stop, she groaned, pushing herself to her feet. She was sore and aching from the tumble, but she was determined. Medical supply bag clutched to her chest, she took off running towards the city, keeping her head low. She would not abandon a man to die when there was even the smallest chance to save him.

Probably why she became a doctor in the first place.

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin smiled weakly when he saw the medic run up, and then his eyes widened when he saw it was a woman and an attractive, full-figured, panting-tired woman at that.

"Um, hey there," he said awkwardly through teeth gritted in pain. "What the fuck are you doing herE? There's an airstrike coming in. Get out right now. You can leave me here."

He narrowed his eyes at her, using that exscuse to look her up and down a few times.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia panted at her exertions, quite tuckered out by the time she reached him. The heavy flak jacket strapped over her slender torso did little to accentuate her feminine curves, and was a nuisance when you had to run over a mile. Her body was still sore from the shock it absorbed from its sudden collision with the ground, and her pale brows were beaded with sweat. Her medical uniform was of similar design to the camouflage utilities worn by the soldiers and the pattern was interrupted in many spots by darkened splatters of blood. All in all, it had been a long day so far, and it was getting longer.

As she reached his side, she fell to her knees panting. There was no time to administer treatment. First and foremost, they had to get the hell out of there! Tired as she was, imminent death can be quite motivating!

"Yes, sir. I do happen to know there's an air strike coming. Might I add, I did not risk my neck coming out here to help you just to be turned away. Can you walk? Or, at the very least, do you think you can manage to walk with my help? We need to move!"

Lydia gazed him over, gauging his injuries. The only visible wound she could see was a shot to his shoulder. As soon as they got clear of the strike zone, she would need to have a look at that.

 

[Douglas Lee]

He nodded decisively.

"Yeah, I can walk," he said with a grunt as he got to his feet, looking around for a weapon and then kneeling and unholstering a 9mm Beretta sidearm off an enemy lieutenant's corpse.

He checked the load and cocked it before putting it on safety and holstering it in his own waistband.

"Let's move out then, Miss," he said, gritting his teeth with pain and 'accidentally' leaning heavily against the female medic and copping a feel as she helped him out. Well, he HAD been in the Army for quite a while and hadn't had pussy for about three years, not even in porn mags, so he would take whatever kind of feel he could get on a female human being, even if it was while he was wounded by gunshot and waiting for an aisrstrike to come in and kill them both.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia was relieved as he stood and armed himself. By the way he favored his one leg, she had to venture to guess something was wrong with his ankle. But there was time to check that later! Now it was time to move.

He leaned heavily against her, his hands groping "accidentally" at her rounded breast, just happening to slip just inside the heavy flak jacket she wore to do so. She accelerated their pace, grunting as she bore some of his weight across her broad shoulders, her medical bag tucked under the opposite arm.

What did he think, she was born yesterday? "Listen, you lecherous goat. If you're that needy, then we'll find some bushes after I patch you up. For now, how about less groping and more retreating?"

She was breathing heavily. She was fatigued, and his added weight did not make things easier. Moving with him was slower, but she kept her pace quick, practically dragging him if need be. Death is a terribly motivating mistress.

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin smiled at the "bushes" comment and nodded, taking his hand off her breast and helping her as she carried him.

He pointed suddenly as they rounded a corner.

"There!" he yelled.

There was a rare sight ahead of them. A working civilian pickup truck, antique from around 1996, sat there, engine idling, a dead man lying beside it.

Derrin walked forward, limping slightly without the female medic's help, and pulled the pistol, shooting the body to make sure it was dead before getting inside and waiting for the medic.

"Did you mean it? About those bushes?" he asked as he pulled the truck away from the corner and towards the safe zone.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia could not believe their good fortune. A working vehicle! As he slipped off from her and limped over, she followed along behind. After he made sure that the seeming owner was in fact dead and not playing possum, she climbed into the passenger seat. Soon, they were quickly speeding away. Someone upstairs was looking out for her!

"Mean it? Of course I did. But I'm going to have a look at those wounds first. I enjoy a good romp as much as the next girl, but I'll not have you squirting blood on me while we do so."

She was relieved as they moved past the city limits, and out into the harsh jungle terrain.

"We could both use a bath as well, I might add."

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin grinned and pulled the wheel to the side, the truck dodging as a bomb burst on the road, narrowly missing the vehicle and creating a crater the size of a house.

"IED," he said matter-of-factedly, looking at the medic, but in fact staring at her large ample bosom slightly hidden by the flak vest.

He continued driving for about an hour before the truck started to run out of gasoline and he pulled off the road and onto a dirt road, pulling in at a desolate farmhouse.

"Looks deserted," he commented. "Surprises abound, eh?"

He kicked open the door and searched the house.

"Clear," he said, coming back outside. "Wanna clean those wounds, maybe get a bath, then maybe we can get to those 'bushes'."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia had been so startled that she'd dropped her medical bag onto the floor of the vehicle in favor of clinging to the edge of her seat. IED, he'd identified it so very non-chalantly. "I-I see..." she cleared her throat, bending forward to retrieve her bag from the floor.

It was a long, quiet hour that they drove on, the city being rapidly left behind. Well, quiet in the sense that they hardly spoke during said hour. At sight of the dreary, ill-kept farmhouse, she nodded.

"Yes, it seems they do."

Clutching her bag, she slid out of the vehicle and followed after him, peering about cautiously. She waited outside while he searched the place. After all, clearing buildings was part of his business, not hers. When he finally emerged once more, she was relieved to hear it was safe.

"Do you think the water still runs in the bathroom? If it does, it will make it a hell of a lot easier to clean your wounds." She moved past him into the house to check for herself. "And yes, yes, then the bushes."

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin smiled, staring after Lydia, making himself remember that she was a human being, not a piece of ass. But it was very hard for a man that had been forced to be celibate AND fight a long-raging war for three or four years at a time.

He walked after her, through the living room of the farmhouse.

He saw Lydia leaning over the old-fashioned bath-tub, her ass stretching in her tight pants, and at that point he REALLY wanted to cop a feel of it but knew it wasn't proper at the moment.

He watched her turn on the water and watched it work perfectly, but his sight was mostly fixed on her fine behind.

"Yeah, the water works," he said finally. "Let's get to those wounds."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia set her medical bag down on the tiled floor of the bathroom, turning her attention to the tub. She felt a small thrill at seeing the water running. "Thank God! There's nothing worse than romping in the bushes with a stink about you."

She loosened the straps on her Kevlar and slid it off her head, her long, dark hair spilling free and cascading down her back. She did the same with the flak jacket, undoing the straps and letting it drop heavily to the floor. She felt light without that damned heavy thing on! Turning to the fellow, she gestured to him and bent over the tub to fill it properly.

"Alright, buster. Get naked. You're going to get clean. No sense dressing your wounds and then taking a bath. Backwards order, you know. How does your arm feel?"

She indicated his gun shot. Turning, she opened her medical bag. "Let me get cleaning supplies and tweezers to get the bullet out..."

 

[Douglas Lee]

"You aren't gonna need to use any tourniquets or shit like that, are you, cause that shit won't fly. I'm not wounded that badly," he said, sighing deeply as he sat on the tub's rim and took off his bulletproof vest, then his camouflage clothing and straps to hold grenades and shit, then his actual shirt, and finally his tunic and muscle shirt.

Then his pants and undergarments, and finally he was completley nude before her, a medic who he didn't even know.

Then he smiled, getting a bright idea.

"You can't work on my shoulder unless you get naked, too," he said slyly, smile widening.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia hissed playfully at the nude man, "Lecherous goat! No shame have you, sir. I might put on a tourniquet just to spite you."

With a short laugh, she began stripping as requested. She was a pale, slender creature, with ample, perfectly rounded breasts and utterly hairless from the head down. She'd long ago had a hair removal treatment to make shaving unnecessary.

Nude, her nipples crinkling into taut little buds at the cold, she held up a pair of tweezers. "Hold still, lover. This is going to sting." Gripping his shoulder, she jabbed the tweezers into the small wound agape in his shoulder, and plucked from his flesh in a little spatter of blood the offending bullet. She tossed it away and set her tweezers down.

"That's better. Shall we?" She coiled her arms around his neck and placed a firm, hungry kiss on his lips.

She really couldn't help herself. He was a handsome devil, and the heady scent of his male musk was intoxicating. Not to mention she was a lusty little wench.

 

[Douglas Lee]

"Oh we shall," he whispered, kissing her back. "We shall indeed."

Caressing her bare breasts with one hands, he reached the other down and began running one finger lightly along her netherlips, the other gently parting them, yet another flicking her clit ever so slightly.

"You are very beautiful," he complimented her. "And you've taken my physical pain away by replacing it by throbbing lust for your body."

He kissed her once more.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia giggled in sheer delight, goosebumps running down her back as his deft fingers teased so erotically at her sex. "O-oh my. Yes, a good doctor heals all ailments, sir."

She met his kiss with enthusiasm. He did not taste sweet, but he tasted like pure manhood...and that was far more erotic. She pulled away from him, catching his hand and pulling him down towards the tub with her.

"Let me wash you...thoroughly. I need administer a very special treatment to an age-old malady."

The moment he complied, she would take the soap she'd produced from her medical bag and begin lathering him up quickly...taking extra time and care to wash his erect member and massage lightly the sack below. She was brief in washing...she was eager. The moment he rinsed, she would grin shyly.

"Now I must check my work..."

She ran her tongue from the base of his sack to the tip of his cock.

 

[Douglas Lee]

"Mmmm," moaned Derrin, sitting back in the tub and relaxing as he got a pseudo-blowjob from a medic he'd only known for about an hour and a half or so. But still, that was life these days, right?

He enjoyed it.

"You're definitely healing me, Lydia," he complimented.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia might have replied, but she was a good girl. She did not talk with her mouth full. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she took his now clean erection into her mouth, laving her tongue over its length as she bobbed her head over it merrily. It was hard work at that, being as he wasn't exactly small.

She devoured it repeatedly, taking it down into her thoat as well. Between throat muscles and tongue, she was stimulating it in every way she could, her hands employed with the gentle massaging of his testicles. It was clear that she was no virgin.

She would continue on until she felt him driven near the edge, and the she would stop and pull away. Turning in the tub, she would lift her bottom and wiggle it right in front of his nose.

"Come on then, my dear. I'm aching to be filled!"

 

[Douglas Lee]

Derrin admiringly rubbed his nose into her slit, inhaling her feminine musk, and flicked his tongue out over her clitoris.

"Alright, then," he said finally, thinking this was a lot better than the masturbation he had been forced to accept as the only means of sex for three or four years, and pulled her down onto his erection.

He moaned, feeling her vagina clench around him as he drove in to the hilt as she sat on his dick, facing away.

"Mmmm," he moaned.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Bracing herself on the sides of the tub, Lydia would permit her hip to be pulled back. Down she would go, until he'd been buried inside her to the hilt. Her inner muscles would reflexively clamp down over him as she rolled her hips over his lap vigorously. She mewled loudly, her nipples crinkling once more in excitement.

"O-oh my..." she gasped, thrusting herself against him wantonly, her back arching until she lay against him, her head laid on his good shoulder. With each thrust she tingled all over, goosebumps running along her flesh and keeping those pink nipples taut.

 

[Douglas Lee]

"God," he moaned, thrusting harder up into her and nibbling her earlobe, his hot breath puffing up her hair as he reached one hand around and began roughly fondling her nipples and breasts, and the other began gently flicking her clit as his cock thrust underneath it into her pussy over and over and over again, gaining speed. He was in a dazed state of pleasure and satisfaction.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Lydia's body was positively humming in carnal delight as she thrust herself downward to match his pace. His calloused hands were rough and eager as he manhandled her, but she found his eagerness all the more arousing. At the added stimulation to the button perched above her womanhood, she felt her cheeks grow hot with flush.

The orgasm would hit hard, the walls of her sopping, throbbing love channel would grip at the erection being so vigorously drilled into her. Toes would curl, apendages numbing and tingling, rolling hips and arching back grinding against him. She mewled and panted against him, her moaning and hot breath were directed directly into his ear.

"Dear G-god! D-don't s-stop!" she gasped, knuckles white as she gripped hard at the sides of the tub. The heady scent of their combined musk hung a heavy odor of sex in the air.