Wargames

by Kandy

The funny thing was, she was not nervous as she entered the island camp for the first time. Maybe all the anxiety had dissipated from the weeks she had spent anticipating her arrival. Captain Teresa Tiang Kim was not the first woman officer to enroll in the Intelligence POW survival course, but she was the first to go through the course since Col. Beverly Tilman had taken over as Education officer. Women had a long history as field operatives in the intelligence service. Briefly put, they often made the best spies. And captivity training was now required for all field operatives, including women.

The small island in the South Pacific had been used for 25 years by the Intelligence Services as a training base. Once T. T. (as her friends called her) stepped off the helicopter, she was in a world completely controlled by the General and his staff. The whole purpose of this week was to simulate the environment of being captured by the enemy for the students, enabling them to experience much of the adverse effects in a controlled environment, so they would not panic or be overwhelmed if it were to happen to them for real.

T.T. arrived with 5 others, all male. As soon as the helicopter left, the 6 "prisoners" were handcuffed together by 4 armed male guards and informed that the exercise had begun. T. T. was last in line. They were marched into a small village area where 3 officers, a general and two colonels stood waiting along with a dozen other guards. T. T. was surprised to see that one of the officers was female, as she had always been told to expect an all-male staff at the training facility.

The group of 6 was ordered to strip. Their clothes were thown on a bonfire and they were hosed off as a "delousing" procedure. T. T. took this in stride as it was part of her expectations for the exercise. It hurt a little when the stream of water hit her bare breasts, but she turned, as best she could with her hands cuffed behind her back, to minimize the impact. The eyes of the officers and guards peered over the naked bodies now exposed before them. T.T. could feel her captors and colleagues look her over and stop to stare. T.T. was in great condition and her well-muscled legs and abdomen were worthy of a long look. It was obvious she had no interest in shaving as evidenced by her thick patch of straight black pubic hair. T.T. was a beautiful asian girl with full round C-cup breasts, whose nipples were hard and erect from the spray of the cold water they had just received.

T. T. spent the first night in a bamboo cage along with her fellow captives. While the men were attracked to her naked body, they did not have any motivation to see her as a sexual object, considering their need to act as a team if they were going to survive this training. All 5 of her colleagues adopted a brotherly protective stance toward T.T. The first night this resulted in her being placed in the middle as the group huddled to stay warm through the night.

The next day they awoke to see Col. Tilman as she studied her prisoners and their reaction to the night of cold and deprivation. Tilman had arranged with Col. Richards to establish a daily routine of harassment and abuse, designed to simulate the enemy's attempts to get information from prisoners. On this first day they each took a prisoner individually, escorted by two armed guards, to "question" them. Tilman selected three male prisoners, leaving T.T. in the hands of Richards.

Richards began his interogation with a body cavity search, asking T.T. if she were hiding any documents, contraband, or notes. Her firm full breasts bounced as she was forced down. The guards smiled at one another as they held T.T. with her back flat over a table and her legs spread apart. Taken by the display of her unshaved pubic mound, with its long straight black hair, Richards began by slapping T.T.'s hard stomach with his open hand. With his lubricated index finger, he probed T.T.'s tender flesh, repeatedly jabbing at her vagina and anus. T.T.'s expression gave her captor no satisfaction, but he clearly enjoyed the feel of the pubic mound as he grabbed the hairs and let them slide through his fingers. She did not scream or whine and seemed to simply be waiting for this to end.

Inside her head, T.T. was surprised by the blatent sexual nature of the abuse. She had expected to be treated as a prisoner, but not humiliated solely by sexual assault. She had decided beforehand to draw the line at penetration or intercourse. She felt strongly that sex was not part of the bargain for such an exercise. This first assault was already borderline, and she was considering calling it over and filing a lawsuit.

Col. Tilman had taken a rather different tact with her prisoners, interogating each with guards administering body blows and kicks. But she had insisted that their exposed manhood not be damaged. At the end of the first day, all prisoners were returned to the large cage except T.T., who now was placed in a separate smaller cage in a location about a mile from the main camp. The men were told that if they did not cooperate, T.T. would receive the punishment. To highlight this, Col. Richards had T.T. handcuffed and ropes tied around her ample breasts, such that a lead rope could be used to pull her around. T.T. was paraded in front of the men's cage and they could see that as the lead rope was pulled the ropes tightened around T.T.'s chest, squeezing the breasts to a point, nipples jetting out. She was gagged so she could not communicate with her friends to tell them that nothing had really happened or that she was OK.

Before he left them, Col. Richards explained that the men would compete the next day, round-robin, with a team of 5 guards using pugile sticks. As motivation, he explained that if the men did not win at least half the matches, T.T. would be punished. T.T. tried to grunt and shook her head "no" suggesting that the men should not compete. Richards slapped her across the face with his open hand and ordered the guards to take her away, which they did using the lead rope. The men immediately unanimously consented to the competition.

After another cold night in the cage, the following day the naked men, stiff from being trapped in the small cage, began their competition with the guards. The guards all wore protective gear, including helmets and pads, while the prisoners competed naked. Basically there was never a chance for the prisoners to win, although several got in substantial blows before the guards landed the decisive blows between their legs. They went 0-5 against the guards in the first round, and 0-5 in the second round, before time stopped the event. T.T. spent the day in her cage alone, not knowing the outcome of the matches, but sensing from distant screams and grunts that it was probably not going well.

Col. Tilman was the one who came to T.T.'s cage later the second day to tell her that "her boys" had not fared well, losing all their matches with the guards. Instead of pleading for mercy from the punishment, T.T. took, what to Tilman, was a surprising tact. T.T. said it wasn't over since she had not had an opportunity to compete. Intreagued by the idea, Col. Tilman agreed to one last match of that day, under the lights. Naked and stiff from being in the small cage all day, T.T. was led to the roped area and given a pugile stick to defend herself against a large male guard, wearing protective gear.

T.T. had had considerable marshal arts training and blocked the first two side swings from the guard. She twisted the stick and landed a upper cut to the guard's jaw, sending him back a step. The guard tried to club T.T. on the top of her head with the stick. She blocked it above her head and kicked the guard in the gut. The guard tried what had worked in his two previous bouts and slammed the stick up between T.T.'s legs. The padded leather end of the stick smacked against T.T. tender bare flesh and she dropped her hands to defend. The guard poked the opposite end into T.T. front, painfully smashing her left breast back against her chest. Ignoring the pain, T.T. grabbed the stick on her chest and pulled, ripping it right out the hands of the guard. She dropped the stick behind her and proceeded to slam in lefts and rights to the guard's head as he tried his best to defend with his hands. As the guard backed up near the corner of the ring, T.T. began to poke him in the gut and below with the end of her stick. With the guard in the corner, T.T. landed a hard upper cut and then kicked him in the crotch as hard as she could. Although he was wearing a cup, T.T.'s kick had the desired effect and he doubled over protecting himself. She slammed her stick into the side of his head, knocking him flat on the ground. T.T. put her foot over his throat and two guards immediately intervened to save their colleague.

Col Richards was appauled by the display, while Col. Tilman was not much surprised. She had studied this student and knew her capabilities. She walked over to the girl, now once again in handcuffs, and smiled. "OK," she said. "That's one round for you." "Tomorrow you compete right along with the rest of your friends." Tilman grabbed T.T.'s left breast by the nipple and while twisting it said, "Be sure to get some rest if you are going to go at it again tomorrow."

On the third day of her captivity, T.T. competed against two more guards. By the end she had two more wins, but her breasts had each taken several strong blows from the pugile sticks. She was sore and tired and not able to sleep well. After a second day of winning two matches (her 4th day on the island), T.T. had a flawless 5-0 record against the guards and was the only prisoner to have won even a single match. She was aware that her male colleagues were all beaten and defeated, although she had been allowed no contact with them.

Now on the fifth day of their exercise, T.T. was brought to the center of camp where the male prisoners could see her. Col. Tilman stood in her fatigues and announced that the prisoners had failed to win half of the round robin matches and T.T. would now suffer the consequences of their failure. "But before I do that, " she continued, now talking directly to T.T., "I would like to give you one last chance." "You have done so well against the guards." "If you can defeat me, I will not administer the punishment." "Do we have a deal?"

T.T. was tired and stiff and had had little sleep. Her chest (particularly her left breast) was sore from the hits it had received the last 2 days of combat. But she was confident that she could easily defeat this older woman. She walked over quickly and picked up the pugile stick, ready for battle. Tilman removed her army boots, put on the pads and stepped into the ring with her stick.

The contest began with Tilman walking slowly toward T.T., who lunged at her and tried to poke her in the gut. Tilman blocked, but T.T. had other tricks to try. She spun and tried to kick Tilman's stick out of her hands. But Tilman was herself an experienced fighter with considerable marshal arts ability. She used her stick to block T.T.'s kick and countered by driving the other end of the stick into T.T.'s exposed naked groin. When T.T. covered up, Tilman slammed a blow to the side of T.T.'s head. Again T.T. raised her stick to defend, this time leaving an opening for Tilman to drive the end of her stick into T.T. sore bare left breast. T.T. stepped back, a bit surprised, but now more cautious of her opponent.

T.T. decided to try to overwhelm this women and began a series of strokes, left and right, aiming high and low to the head and body. Tilman blocked nearly all these blows with her stick. Finally one hard right shot got through and T.T.'s stick was rewarded with contact under Tilman's left arm, hitting her left breast as well from the side. But T.T. felt her arms getting tired. T.T. tried a kick to the groin, but her foot just contacted Tilman's stick. She kicked again with the same result.

In frustration, T.T. wound up and tried to land a hard roundhouse blow with the stick extended. Tilman ducked and T.T. went spinning out of control, turning her back to her opponent. Tilman had been waiting for such an opening. She slammed a shot to the back of T.T.'s head and followed by landing a kick hard into T.T.'s stomach. When T.T. dropped her guard lower, Tilman landed a right into T.T.'s face, causing her to take a step back. T.T.'s arms were heavy and tired, but she raised her stick to cover her face. Tilman worked systematically. She poked her stick into T.T.'s open gut, driving her back again. As T.T. took a step back, Tilman was ready with a carefully aimed kick to T.T.'s pubic mound and T.T. heard herself grunt with the impact of Tilman's foot compressing her pubic hair. Tilman began to talk trash saying, "What's a matter Titty (a mispronounciation of her nickname)?" "Your little trick not working so good this time?" and "Can't take a few gentle taps with a padded stick, you wimp?"

T.T. was hurt but not done. Ignoring the taunting comments, she stood her ground and swung hard at her attacker. But again she missed completely and paid for it with another crack to the back of her head. This time Tilman managed to step behind her and bring her foot up between T.T.'s legs from behind. T.T. felt the arch of Tilman's foot dig into the tender flesh of her vagina and compress her clitorus. The pain brought her to her knees automatically as her hands and stick dropped to cover her femininity. Again Tilman's stick cracked against the back of T.T.'s head and she fell to the ground dazed and groggy. As she fell face first, she did not guard her chest, and her breasts smashed painfully against the ground. Tilman poked her right toe under T.T.'s right arm, managing to step on and scratch the part of her breast that protruded from being pressed into the ground. T.T. managed to bring her elbow down to cover her right side.

T.T. was alert enough to cover her face as she was rolled over to her back by Tilman's foot. But Tilman was looking at her audience of guards, asking for thumbs up or thumbs down. Only one guard showed thumbs up suggesting Tilman should spare T.T., while the others had a consensus to finish her off. Strangely the one guard was one that T.T. had previously beaten.

Tilman took her cue from the guards and slammed her foot down into T.T.'s lower abdomen, compressing her bladder and left ovary. The pain doubled T.T. over and she began to cough. T.T. was still grasping her pugile stick, using it to cover her face and head. Tilman reached down and seemed to try to pull the stick away from T.T., but T.T. held on tight with her remaining strength. This was just what Tilman had hoped for. She pulled T.T.'s arms up over her head and stood down on the stick, trapping T.T.'s hands on the ground above her head. T.T.'s torso was now completely open to attack by Tilman, and she began to use her pugile stick to T.T.'s chest. Again she taunted the girl, laughingly saying, "Looks like Titty's titties are the ttttt-target!" Alternating, Tilman slapped the stick into T.T.'s right and left breasts, pancaking them back against her chest as she lay on her back on the ground. T.T. had never felt such pain. Her tits just burned from the repeated contact from the pugile stick. The skin, including nipples, hurt from slapping against the leather, while the breasts themselves were bruised deeper from smashing against her chest and ribs. She longed for the pain to become so great that her tits would just feel numb. But each blow brought a new pain sensation. She could hear the sound of the leather smacking against the skin of her breasts, crack, crack, crack it kept a cadance as her tits rattled across her chest. She could sense the throbbing in her right breast as she visually watched Tilman's stick compressing her left, and vice versa a few seconds later. She closed her eyes so as not to watch and felt embarrassed as she heard herself scream and cry out from the pain.

Eventually Tilman paused again, seeking input from her guards. As she lay trapped on the ground, everyone could see T.T.'s nipples were erect and hard from the painful stimulation of the beating. And the flesh was red mainly on the outside sides of each breast. The guards, except for one, signaled thumbs down for "no mercy." Tilman resumed her assault on T.T.'s tits with a smile. Using the edge of the stick, she poked down and into each breast, pushing hard against each one until her stick slid off. T.T. moaned audibly, knowing the pain would be repeated on her other breast. #Then Tilman resumed her rythym of blows, alternating left and right hits to the sides of each of T.T.'s bruised and aching mammaries. T.T.'s breasts were actually swelling from the beating, making them even more sensative. As T.T. sweat from the pain of this assault, the sound of leather against her tits got louder and each blow stung even more. Just when T.T. felt she could take no more and was about to pass out from the pain, Tilman finally ended the flurry of blows by putting her hands together in one place on the stick and stabbing down again deep into T.T.'s lower abdomen with all her weight pressing down on the stick, and making contact just above T.T.'s triangle of pubic hair. T.T. brought her knees up in a spontaneous reaction to double over from the pain of the compression of her gonads. T.T. was clearly finished, so Tilman stepped off to release T.T's hands, kicking the stick away.

When T.T.'s hands were free, she immediately crossed her arms across her chest, cradling her beaten tits as she lay doubled over on the ground. Tilman immediately ordered two guards to handcuff her beaten captive's hands behind her back and return her to her bamboo cage. There was still one day left of the training exercise for the prisoners to survive. And T.T.'s was yet to suffer the punishment for the loss of her team against the guards.

If you'd like to hear what happened the next day when T.T. again fought her captor, Tilman, in a final contest, write to A and request Wargames #2-- The Rematch.

Wargames #2-- The Rematch.

After losing her pugile stick contest with Col. Beverly Tilman, Captain Teresa Tiang Kim, known as T.T., was returned to her bamboo cage to spend the 6th night of her seven day POW survival training course. After beating 5 of the male guards, T.T. had taken a few hits to her chest, particularly her left breast, but nothing like this. She had met her match with Col. Tilman, who had blocked all her kicks and gotten her so frustrated she had begun to swing wildly. That had been T.T.'s undoing, she reflected as she lay in her cage trying to find a position in which no pressure was placed on her sore and swollen breasts. Tilman had pinned her down and just started whacking away at her tender mounds. Now her breasts were so sore she could not lay down and put pressure on them. And she had taken a few shots to her stomach and lower adbomen, causing an aching feeling there too. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she wished she could massage her belly as she recalled being hit in the left ovary by Tilman's stick. She hoped she never felt that kind of pain again.

The night was cold and T.T. was laying on her back to avoid the pressure on her chest. She had just closed her eyes when she was shocked awake by the burning pain her left breast. It was Tilman. She had silently come up to the cage and grabbed T.T.'s left nipple through the cage. T.T. jumped up, pulled by the brutal pinching. As T.T. stood close to the bars, Tilman savagely twisted the full erect nipple as she talked to her prisoner. With hands still cuffed behind her back, T.T. could do nothing to relieve the pain. "Are you ready to receive the punishment for your buddy's loss to the guards," Tilman asked. T.T.'s eyes began to water as she heard herself say tauntingly, "I can take you and anything you have to dish out, asshole." Tilman stared at her for a moment wishing she could get her fist cleanly through the bars to punching this disrespectful Asian cutie in the gut a few time to teach her some respect. After a while she answered, "Sound's like you haven't had enough." "If you want a piece of me, I'll see you in the ring again first thing tomorrow." T.T. was inwardly horrified at the prospect of more beating, but her pride forced her to answer, "I'm ready now." The last words T.T. heard that night were "Morning will come soon enough."

First thing in the morning T.T. was awakened by two male guards and escorted, naked stiff and tired, to the ring where Col. Tilman was already standing dressed in a kacki muscle shirt and shorts and jumping a little to get loosened up. T.T. was extremely sore from the pounding she had taken the night before. Her chest was black and blue on both sides and she would have to guard against further contact to her ovaries as she cold feel the soreness there each time she took a step. T.T.'s hands were uncuffed and she had less than a minute to stretch before she was handed her pugile stick and the contest began.

T.T. started by throwing a few ineffective left and right side blows, which Tilman easily defended. Tilman made the first solid contact in a counter-move to a T.T. left. She blocked T.T.'s stick to her right and brought the left end of the stick up hard into T.T.'s left breast. T.T. felt a stab of pain from her bruised mammary as it pancaked back against her chest. T.T. looked down to notice the nipple now jutted out completely erect from the painful contact. T.T. brought her stick back to defend and was treated to a poke in the gut from the right end of Tilman's stick.

T.T. stepped back and managed to block the next Tilman right aimed at her head. This time T.T. noticed something very interesting. It seemed Tilman telegraphed her right by taking a small step forward with her right foot. T.T. watched carefully and, sure enough, a small step preceeded a right, which T.T. again easily blocked. T.T. thought to herself that she would have one chance to take advantage of this. She would have to simultaneously block left and kick up between Tilman's legs. She waited.

Tilman stepped with her right forward and T.T. blocked left. Simultaneously her foot slammed up into Tilman's crotch. Tilman groaned and stepped back, surprised at the painful contact. T.T. smiled and prepared for a whole new fight, trying to ignore her own injuries. Tilman surprised T.T. with a kick to gut. But when she tried to follow with a right, T.T.'s foot again hit the mark and Tilman fell to one knee. T.T. quickly stepped behind her and established a choke hold with her stick. Holding it in place with one hand, T.T. reached down and pulled Tilman's muscle shirt up over her head, then released the choke hold, stepping around in front and pulled her shirt all the way off.

Tilman stood up revealing a khaki bra holding back two beautiful full c-cup breasts. The two again brought up their sticks. Tilman effectively kicked T.T. in the gut again and followed with a left to the head. When Tilman threw a right, T.T. was there to block it and slam her foot up between Tilman's legs. Again she sagged to one knee from the pain, and T.T. smacked her stick hard into the kneeling girl's chest. Tilman's left breast nearly emerged on the rebound from being compacted against her chest bone. T.T. again stepped behind, this time unclasping Tilman's bra and pulling her shorts to her knees. Tilman rolled to her right, her breasts bouncing free, and managed to stand to face T.T. again, her breasts now exposed for all to see, nipples erect. Tilman was topless and she kicked away her shorts to free her anckles and approached T.T. wearing only kacki panties. T.T. picked up the shorts and waved them triumphantly. Realizing the key to her friends' cage was in the pocket, she tossed the shorts out of the ring next to their cage.

Tilman was clearly getting frustrated as she rushed T.T. swinging a roundhouse right. T.T. ducked and Tilman spun around, leaving T.T. to land her foot up into Tilman's cunt from behind. Tilman regained composure and landed a hard upper cut to T.T.'s chin. Then both fighters' sticks met in midair between them and they tried to muscle each other. Distance between them closed and their breasts nearly touched before T.T. lifted her knee and was rewarded with solid contact to Tilman's now aching groin. Tilman took the pain like a trooper and released her right hand from her stick, balled it into a fist, and drove a barefisted punch into T.T.'s lower left abdomen, compressing her bladder and bruised left ovary. "Ugh" was spontaneously released from T.T. in a high-pitched voice, nearly a scream of pain.

Now T.T. doubled over and Tilman slammed a right to T.T.'s head as she fell. T.T. crossed her hands and stick across her belly, leaving Tilman free to grab her left breast and painfully pull her back up to a standing position. T.T. tried to break Tilman's hold on her left tit, it could take no more of this painful torture. Swelling and sore, her left breast had taken so much that this new assault brought tears to T.T.'s eyes. Tilman used the opening to pound her right fist again deep into the left side of T.T.'s hairy bush, compressing her left ovary. "Ahh" and a cough came from T.T. exhaustedly. With T.T. gasping for air bent over in front of her, Tilman burried her bare fist deep into T.T.'s dangling left mammary, and was rewarded by T.T.'s scream of agony.

T.T. felt her strength fading and became despirate. Fighting the urge to fall to her knees, instead she pulled up her right knee. It banged hard into Tilman's crotch forcing her to step back away from T.T. Now T.T. noticed a slight stain beginning on Tilman's panties where her knee had just been, Tilman was bleeding. Tilman telegraphed her right and T.T. executed her move, with the usual result of her right foot making solid contact to where she had noticed the stain. Tilman doubled over but stayed on her feet, grabbing her crotch, and T.T. stepped behind her again, this time pulling her panties down to her anckles. T.T. pushed her forward and she fell face first because her anckles were constrained.

T.T. slammed her stick into Tilman's right kidney as she struggled to kick off the panties and scrambled to get to her feet. As she turned to face T.T., Tilman's closely shaven patch of blonde pubic hair was revealed to the onlookers. T.T. stared as the straight line of closely cropped pubic hair seemed to show the way to her victory and revenge. They were finally on equal footing, both naked and vulnerable, hurting and tired. T.T. stepped in for the kill and aimed a kick right at her favorite target, Tilman's vulnerable groin. But Tilman blocked the kick with her stick and planted a karate kick to T.T's pubic mound and sore ovary. T.T.'s knees gave way as she automatically doubled over from the renewed pain. She had been stupid to walk right into that, she thought as she once again fell and covered her femininity.

Tilman was ready to finish this and raised her stick to drive a right to the side of T.T.'s head. But this time it was T.T. who beat her to the punch. T.T. released her right hand from the pugile stick, made a fist, and from her kneeling position in front of Tilman, drove her bare fist up between Tilman's legs. Her knuckles banged against bone as she compressed Tilman's soft skin of labia and clitoris. T.T.'s knuckles emerged with a trace of blood. Tilman fell to her knees in pain, leaving the two combatants face-to-face on their knees.

With her snatch now throbbing with pain, Tilman dropped her stick and grabbed T.T.'s mangled left mammary, savagely twisting the flesh and digging in her fingernails to the areola and distended nipple. T.T. screamed uncontrollably from the agony, resisting the urge to grab her assailant's wrist. Instead, she also dropped her stick and jabbed her thumbs into both of Tilman's awaiting nipples, digging, pinching and scratching at the tender bumps of skin. T.T. pulled Tilman to the left and they both fell on their sides, enrapt in a contest of wills. Now T.T. could go back to work and she drove her right knee home to Tilman's crotch, thump, thump, thump as the struggling girl moaned but hung on to T.T.'s burning left breast with a vengence, pulling and twisting will all her strength. T.T. drove it home one more time before Tilman released her tit hold. T.T.'s knee showed a speckle of blood from Tilman's crotch. Tilman was in agony and rolled to her stomach in the fetal position, rocking and moaning in pain. T.T. stood up and cupped her left tit, now purple from bruising and scratching, as if cradling a baby. She grabbed hold of Tilman's left anckle, pulled her legs apart, and landed the decisive kicks to the damaged groin. The top of T.T's foot hit the inflamed target again and again as Tilman tried desperately to crawl away. T.T. landed five kicks before she dropped the leg and walked away, leaving Tilman wrything on the ground grabbing her crotch and moaning.

As a result of the intensity of the fight, no one noticed as the male prisoners pulled the key from Tilman's shorts. Only one guard was near their cage, the one who had supported T.T. They took a chance and showed him the key, asking him silently to be quiet. They opened the lock and whispered a plan amongst themselves. They agreed to ignore all else and go straight for the 2 officers. Just as the fight neared its end, with Tilman brutalizing T.T.'s left breast and T.T. jabbing her thumbs into Tilmans amply displayed mounds, the prisoners broke out and attacked the officers. It was the only successful break from the POW training facility ever.

Although she was standing at the end of the fight, as she witnessed her friends breaking out, the pain and the fatigue got to her and T.T. stopped where she was and sat down on the ground. Her head was spinning, and she felt sick. As she sat cupping her left breast with her right hand and rubbed her pussy with her left, the pain in her left ovary and the throbbing in her left tit overwhelmed her and she began to sob. She fell on her butt crying, and did not notice Tilman struggle to her feet and sit down next to her. Tilman put her arm around T.T.'s shoulder, who flinched at the contact. Tilman pushed the hair away from T.T.'s sobbing tear-stained face and said softly, "You are one tough soldier." After a pause she added with a smile, "I should've kicked your ass, but you're good!" They both laughed as T.T. rested her head on Tilman's chest, gently compressing the firm mounds she had just moments ago been mauling with her thumbs. The two made a strange picture, like mother consoling daughter.

T.T. could feel Tilman's left nipple pressing softly against the side of her neck as she rested on the soft warm pillow created by the Col.'s chest. Two guards, including the one who had supported T.T. and helped her friends escape came up to the two women. Concerned that T.T. might be harmed further, the friendly guard helped T.T. stand up, while the other guard assisted the Colonel. The exercise was over, but not the interaction of these two strong women.