Mwynwen - The Camel Corps rides again
By Diana the Valkyrie
My dam was breached by her bouncing bomb


I wasn't too keen about giving up being skipper, but she was absolutely all
over me. I suppose if you're six-three you hardly need to jump, you can just
reach up and push the ball down through the net. But she jumped, it was almost
like she was flying she could jump so well, it was like she floated around the
pitch, and I just lumbered along after her trying to keep up. And when she
offered to box me, I took a look at those long long arms, and wondered how
many other girls she's converted to hamburger. Not that I was scared of her, I
reckoned if I could jump at her and get one arm round her, I could pound her
until she didn't know which way was up. But for sure, one of us wouldn't be up
to much for weeks; probably both of us. But that wasn't the point. Point was,
the situation argued for itself, she had to be our striker. And so she was
skipper, and I was quite pleased that she accepted me as her number two.

We slaughtered the boys at netball, which didn't really say much, because
Bunty and I could have managed that with just the two of us. But then, for the
afternoon, we had hockey. And that's a whole different ball game. Netball is
about skill and grace, accuracy and ball control. Hockey is brute force and
intimidation. We clipped our hockey sticks to our bicycles, and rode down to
the pitch. Quelchy was refereeing, and it was the first match of term, so it
was a friendly. Against the boys.

At netball they don't stand a chance. But with hockey, we're all armed with
sticks, so the boys can at least put up some sort of defence. And there's
rules that say you're not allowed to kick them in the balls, and stuff like
that. Although I have to say, I've seen girls who deliberately foul in order
to put a boy out of action for the duration of the game. Personally, I think
that's not cricket, and if I do accidentally kick a boy in the balls, it
really is an accident.

Mwynwen was our skipper, so she bullied off against Flash Harry. Whack! He got
his stick down first, and the puck flew across to Ben. Ben started a run
towards goal, was tackled by Bunty, he flicked across to Nose before Bunty
could get to him, Nose ran ten yards forward and shot. Goal! First blood to
the boys. Looks like they've been practicing.

I noticed that Min wasn't as outstanding at hockey as she was at netball. She
was OK, don't get me wrong, I'd have her on my team any day. But at netball
she was pure magic. A Witch indeed! There was a scrimmage between Ben, Nose
and Licks, Bunty threw herself onto them, and then it was pure furball with
Quelchy throwing a whistling fit. Eventually we sorted it out, and I told
Bunty to try to control her urge to throw herself at any boy who wasn't moving
faster than she was. "I will if you keep off the Witch", she replied, and
stuck her tongue out at me. So I chased her to give her a good belt, she ran
off, heading for Nose, got behind him and gave him a huge shove sideways, so I
had to stop chasing her and grab him so he wouldn't hurt himself when he fell.
Unfortunately, I didn't get it right, and I fell on top of him, which probably
made it worse. Then Bunty dived at me and we rolled around trying to get in a
good punch, but with Nose between us it was difficult to avoid bashing the
poor boy, and I think by the time we stood up, he was looking considerably the
worse for wear. Oh well, I tried. Hockey is such good fun!

Five minutes into the second half, two men ran onto the field, grabbed
Princess Pudge, and dragged her away. "Hey" shouted Fluff from the sidelines.
"Stop that!" The game stopped as everyone turned to see what was happening.
Fluff was running towards Pudge, but the men had her in a little brown van by
now, which drove off just as Fluff puffed up to it. She pulled out her
catapult and got a few stones off, but that didn't help at all. And then the
Witch took off.

No, I don't mean she sprinted. I mean, she took off.

See, I've done a bit of gliding, so I know about this. She ran half a dozen
steps, then dived forward. They say, how do you fly, you throw yourself at the
ground and miss. And that's pretty much what she did. She was fifteen feet in
the air within seconds, grabbed Fluff's catapult and headed towards the exit
of the field, trying to cut off the van's escape route. I gawped for about a
second, promised myself I'd think about this later, and yelled "Come on" to
Bunty and Licks. Licks just stood there, like a statue entitles The Surprise ,
but Bunty headed for the van. "NO!!" I called out to her. "Bikes!" She
understood immediately, and swerved over to where we'd dumped our bikes. I
clipped my hockey stick in place, and pedalled across the pitch to chase after
the van.

By the time Bunty and I got to the gate, the van had disappeared. "Left or
right?" yelled Bunty. "Right" shouted Fluff, pointing up in the air. There was
the Witch, and presumably she was tailing the van. Tally Ho! So the two of us
headed right, while Fluff ran back to get wheels. "Stop" screamed Quelchy.
"You girls, stop that at once!" We ignored him. Stupid man. You don't stop the
pack when they're in full flood at the quarry.

You might think that bikes couldn't possibly catch a van. That's obviously
true on a long straight road, but this is Kent.

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,

The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.

A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,

And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;

A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread

The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

We knew the twists and turns hereabouts; they didn't. We could pedal fast down
the maze of twisty little passages; they had to slow down for each bend, even
the fast bends, because you can't tell until you're on top of it. They also
had to worry about oncoming traffic, and we didn't, because we knew that
anything oncoming would hit the van, not us. So our powerful
netball-and-hockey trained thighs propelled our bike's full-tilt Pudgewards,
while the Witch flew overhead acting as a spotter plane, telling us where the
van was, and letting loose from time to time with Fluff's catapult.

Then I started to hear bangs. Punctures? No. Oh my god, they were shooting!
They must have seen the Witch, and they were taking pot shots at her.
Fortunately, it's very difficult to hit a moving target from a van that's
rocking from side to side as it bounces along "the crooked road an English
drunkard made" and the Witch responded by corkscrewing and gaining altitude.
But she stuck with them, so that we could track them and follow. I counted
seven bangs, then the shooting stopped. Out of ammo, I guessed, and I imagined
the guy in the van desperately trying to reload while the van hurled him from
side to side and Min's catapulted stones were spanging off the roof of the
van. Then they reached Oldrington, zooming through the village and over the
humpback bridge at 40 mph; for a few moments they were flying too. When we go
there, I could see Witch up in the air over on my left, and I guessed maybe I
could take a short cut. But just in case I was wrong, I shouted to Bunty to
continue on after them while I split off to the left; maybe we could surround
them.

I cut through the ford and across a meadow, keeping one eye watching out for
cow pats and the other on the flying Witch, telling me where the van was. Then
we reached the stile on the other side of the field, and I put the bike on my
shoulder and vaulted over, dumped the bike on the road and pedalled
frantically off in the direction that I could see Mwynwen.

Just as I realised that the distance between me and the van was closing too
fast for this to be a stern chase, I saw it coming over the brow of a hill,
straight towards me. And, not wanting to take part in a head-on collision
between a bike and a van, I grabbed my hockey stick, dumped the bike in the
middle of the road, hoping that the van would get so tangled up in it that it
would have to stop, and I jumped into the ditch, waiting in ambush. The van
was out of sight as it came up the far side of the hill, but then it crested
and I could see it bearing down on me. But something wasn't right - I couldn't
see Mwynwen any more. Then I realised; she'd swooped down on the van and was
lying on the bonnet, completely blocking the driver's view of the road with
her body. The van was swerving from side to side, trying to throw her off, but
somehow she was sticking there like glue. Then the driver hit my bike, that
caused him to swerve just a bit too much, the front nearside wheel went off
the road into the ditch, the van spun out of control, rolled a couple of times
and in a screech of metal, came to a halt. The Witch hurtled off the bonnet at
forty mph, and anyone else would have been killed, but she just zoomed
upwards, looped, and landed behind the van. Then Bunty caught up on her bike,
and I jumped out of the ditch clutching my weapon ready to help subdue the
kidnappers. I ran round to the driver's side, smashed the window in, levered
the door open, and got a really good shot at the guy's head. This isn't
hockey, the usual rules don't apply. Thwack! No need to worry about him for a
bit. Finally Fluff panted up on her bike, and said "Come on, we have to get
them out before it catches fire."

Fluff and Bunty attacked the back doors of the van; I ran round to the other
side to make sure that the guy there wasn't feeling frisky. He moaned and
moved, so I fetched him a good lick with the business end of the stick, and he
went back to sleep. Who said that hockey practice doesn't help in real life?
The Witch was talking on a little mobile phone that she'd pulled out. "Who're
you calling?" I asked her. "Police", she said, "999". "You'll be lucky," I
replied, "round here that means Peter the Panda" "A Panda car is exactly what
we need" "Yes, but we call him that because his wife gives him so many black
eyes." "Well, that's the drill, Cherry. We stop them, the Uniforms collar
them." "We?" "Uh. Look. I haven't been entirely straight with you, Cherry.
Fluff and I are plain clothes police, we're here to look out for Pudge." "Oh,
Ruristan" I said. "Yes, you know about that?" "Yes, Pudge is full of it. Give
her half a chance and she'll tell you all about how important she is. Chock
full of it. Plain clothes?"

"Right," said Mwynwen. "We're, uh, the Camel Corps, part of the Dog Patrol."
She said it with a straight face, too. "So who's the bitch?" "Come on, Cherry.
What did you expect, the Justice League of Great Britain?" "Uh, no, I suppose.
But Dog Patrol?" "Cover name" she replied. "Means people don't take much
notice of us." "She flies too?" and I pointed to Fluff. "No, I'm the flier,
she's the fluffer." "So who else is in this Camel Corps?" "Uh, well. Just me,
really. I'll show you my cape later, lovely picture of a camel." One of the
kidnappers groaned again, so I turned and belted him again. He subsided with a
sigh and a moan. "Cherry, let's get them out of this van."

So we dragged them out of the van and lay them face down in the road. Fluff
tied their hands behind their backs "I learned this in "Bondage Bitches from
Balham Broadway"" she said, roping their ankles together and then hooking
their bound wrists over their toes and knotting them down as tight as a
trussed thanksgiving turkey. Meanwhile, Bunty had gotten Pudge out of the back
of the van. Pudge, of course, was in hysterics.

"You can't do this to me" she kept screaming. "I'm a Princess, keep your
filthy hands off me" "Hey, Pudge, settle down" She kept right on shrieking and
making herself a pain in the ears. "Calm down Pudge, it's all over." "And stop
calling me Pudge, it's Princess May, you can call me Your Highness." "Shut up,
Pudge." "I will not! This is a disgrace!" I looked at Fluff. "You know, Fluff,
if it hasn't caught fire by now, then it isn't going to. "True," she said. So
I grabbed her right arm, Fluff grabbed her left, we picked her up and swung
her into the back of the van and closed the doors. "For your own protection,
Pudge" I called. By which I meant, if she kept this whining up for much
longer, I'd punch her lights out myself.

Then Peter the Panda turned up, and Mwynwen showed him her identification
badge. "Constable Mwynwen, Camel Corps, Dog Patrol" she said with a straight
face. I broke up into giggles. "What?" she said, crossly. "Constable?" "Shut
up" she explained, "Scheherezade." Huh.

Peter cuffed the kidnappers and led them away. "Well," said the Witch. "We've
done what we came for. It was nice meeting you folks, but we'll be away now."
I looked down at the mangled remains of my bike. "I'm going to need a lift
back to Greyfriars" I said, looking at Bunty and Fluff. "OK," said Bunty, but
Fluff held out her arm "No, wait." And she looked at the Witch. Mwynwen
grinned. "OK, then".

I've flown in 747 jets, I've flown in the Airbus, I once got to go in
Concorde, and I've done heaps of gliding. But none of that had gotten me ready
for flying. Those weren't flying, this was. We clambered over the stile back
into the meadow, and ran hand in hand down the gentle slope. And just when I
thought my body was going too fast for my feet to catch up, she tugged me up
into the air.

Don't ask me to explain it. I know it isn't possible, I know, I know. It was
like, freedom. After all my life in two dimensions, suddenly there's a third
dimension! "You want to go up some more?" she asked. "Yes, yes!" We soared on
until we got to Boscuddy Down, then she flew into the updraft that you get on
the side of a hill. There were a couple of magpies there already, circling as
the updraft carried them into the sky, getting the benefit of the free lift,
just like I did when I went gliding. Mwynwen turned to me and shouted above
the airstream. "See, I don't have much power, I get all the help I can" I
nodded, she was more like a powered glider than a rocket. The updraft took us
way higher than Boscuddy Down, then she flew us into a cloud, and used the
cloud's internal air circulation to add a couple more thousand feet. "I can
get altitude without updrafts, but you don't work if you can get it for free,
see how the birds do it?" "Yes, I'm a glider pilot, I know about this." She
looked at me, her eyes wide. "I've never taken a glider pilot up before." "Oh,
Min, this is so, so special, I can't tell you."

Suddenly she zoomed us upwards, we lost flying speed and stalled. I expected
us to plunge down like you would in a glider, but we didn't, we just hovered
in place. This really wasn't gliding. This wasn't the familiar aerofoil lift
versus drag. This was something else, something eldrich, something
extrordinary. And something erotic, too. She pulled me towards her, and we
kissed. I responded eagerly. The short skirts that we were wearing for the
hockey game were no hindrance at all as my hand crept between her legs. I
don't know what was keeping us up, but I trusted her to be able to continue
doing it. Her hands touched my breasts, and I realised that there was
absolutely nothing keeping me in the air, Nothing, except. Except what? Not my
problem, though. My problem was trying to control the waves of sensation that
were flooding through me, so much more powerful the results from than Nose's
inexpert fumblings or Bunty's enthusiastic hugs. And my problem was not just
to hold myself back; I also wanted to deliver equal pleasure to the tall,
elegant body in front of me, to the remarkable breasts, lean thighs and flat
belly, to the innermost center of her being. To the Witch.

I felt completely outclassed; nothing like this had ever happened to me in the
whole eighteen years I've been around. She was not only making us hover about
a mile from the ground on top of thick cumulus cloud cover, she was also
building me up to a raging inferno. Her hands were everywhere; she must have
had half a dozen deployed at least. I did my best to fight back, and I could
hear her making little mewing noises, and I held myself in, held myself
together, determined that I would give as good as I got. But her skilled and
gentle hands were too much for me, and my dam was breached by her bouncing
bomb. I screamed and screamed as the pent-up sensation gushed free like a
bursting water main, like an exploding firecracker; this felt like it went on
and on for hours, although realistically it could not have been more than
minutes. And then, like a wave breaking on the shingle, the sound and fury was
spent, and I clutched her to me and sobbed her name. "Min, Min. Min."

She cuddled me and stroked my hair as I came down from the stratosphere to a
mere six thousand feet altitude. "Feeling better now?" she asked. "Mmm." "Back
to school, then."

By the time we got back to the dorm, Fluff and Bunty were there. Fluff was
busy packing her trunk. "So you're leaving?" "Yes, we've done our bit, back to
the daily grind now." "What's your next thing, Fluff?" "Back to fluffing,
there's always demand for a good fluffer." "What's yours, Witch?" "Dunno,
Cherry. I get all the pear-shaped jobs, when the shit hits the fan, I'm the
one with the butterfly net."

"Min?" "Yes?" "If I wanted to join the Camel Corps, how would I go about it?"
She looked at me and scratched her head. "Search me, Cherry. You get dealt a
hand, you play it as best you can. Look, this is my cape." She handed a
crimson cape with the head of a camel embroidered on it." "Doesn't that burn
up in the atmosphere?" asked Bunty. Min laughed. "With a top speed of about
100 knots, heat isn't a problem. I call myself the Camel because my
performance is similar to a Sopwith Camel." "Bactrian" said Fluff. "What?"
said Bunty. "Two humps."

We helped them lug their gear down to the quad, where the School Coach was
waiting to take them back to civilisation. Min gave me her new cellphone
number, Fluff told Bunty she could come visit in the next school holidays.
Then I hugged Min, Fluff hugged Bunty, Licks waved her handkerchief, and the
bus moved off. I looked around. "Hey." "What?" said Bunty. "Where's Pudge?"
"Oh no! We must have left her in the van!" "Good idea, let her calm down a
bit", said Licks, and we went to the refectory for dinner.