All persons depicted in this story are eighteen or older.
This was all wrong! I could just barely see through the slits that had become my eyes. My chest ached, I was sure my arms were broken. I couldn't move my legs. Damn! What the hell had happened?
I heard the tinkling voice of a female talking in Hmong. As an Air Asia pilot I had considered it prudent to learn that language as well as Vietnamese.
The girl said, "He is in bad shape. We cannot move him. We were lucky he didn't die in the crash. Besides, I found him so I get to keep him."
That seemed to settle the matter with whomever she was arguing. I felt rather than saw her sit next to me. I tried to speak but only my lips moved. Nothing came out.
"Don' talk!" she ordered. "There are bad people everywhere."
While I lay there I started trying to remember some basic stuff like my name. I thought and thought but had no luck. How did I get into this mess? I vaguely remembered flying into the trees. She came back in and I gave up.
"Okay fly boy, you do what I say. You belong to me now," she said.
I guessed that was alright. I sure wished I could see her. Fly boy? She called me fly boy. Hmmm.
"You don't move. You are hurt bad. I'll try to fix you. We already sent a message to your company. Don't worry; we won't hurt you any more."
Apparently, I was nude. I had a cloth laid over me. She picked the cloth up.
"I wash you now," she remarked.
I felt her little hands washing my body. I passed out just before she got to the good part. Damn! I had no luck at all. When I came to, I could remember my name. I was Bob Johnson, pilot, Air Asia. I could even see a little. My little native nurse was right by my side. She sat up when I moved.
"So, you're finally awake. You were passed out for six days. Are you hungry?"
I realized I was hungry. Very hungry.
"Yes," I managed to croak.
She left and then reappeared with some rice and boiled fish. I wolfed it down. She helped me eat and she gave me some water. I got a pretty good look at her as she pampered me.
She was very small and pretty. Most of the Hmong girls are just OK in the looks department but she was a cut above. I couldn't tell how old she was. It is mostly impossible to guess the age of Asian females unless they are babies or very old. I guess someone up there was looking after me.
"What happened?" I whispered.
"VC shot down your airplane. All others were killed in crash. You make very rough landing in the jungle."
"Where am I?"
"You are with Hmong. I found you so you are mine."
Actually, it felt kind of nice to belong to someone. Belonging to a cute native girl could have been worse.
"When can I get up?"
"Your legs are broken. It will be a long time. Both of your arms are full of shrapnel. Now that you are awake, I'll have to take it out. You hit something with your head but the swelling is going down."
"Take it out? What do you mean, take it out?"
"I will have to pull all the metal from you before you are infected. If you are infected, you will die."
Well, that seemed to settle the 'take it out' issue. The extraction procedure was long and quite painful. We had no anesthetic. There wasn't even any booze. When she finished it I felt a hundred percent better.
Once again she washed me. This time I didn't pass out. When she got to my business section, my dick started to rise.
"You are a naughty boy!" she exclaimed, but she didn't stop.
When my bath was finished she fed me again. She lay down beside me.
"Time for sleep," she said and hugged me to her.
If I had been healthy things would have gotten very interesting at this point. I swore to make up for lost time when I recovered. I drifted off to sleep with her little warm body clinging to me. It could have been worse.
When I awoke she was gone. There was still a lot of pain. We didn't even have aspirin.
She returned an hour later with a big smile on her face.
"I got some apc," she said.
She poured out half a dozen and I sucked them down. Believe it or not, they actually helped.
"Bath time," she happily chimed.
She started washing me again and of course my dick stood up again.
"You still a naughty boy," she grinned
She grabbed my cock and kissed it. She gave it a few strokes with her little fist and suddenly I shot a major load into the air.
"Hee, hee, it still works," she observed.
She carefully washed the rest of me and covered me up. A little later she showed up with some soup.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"May Lor."
"Why aren't you married?"
"The bad people killed most of the men. Girls who are of age have nobody to save them."
"Is that why you have saved me?"
She shyly answered, "Yes."
"You are hoping that I will save you?"
"Yes."
"Maybe I will if I survive. Are we in some kind of cave?"
"Yes but it is very small and very well hidden. I am careful about leaving tracks. The VC will never find you here."
"How much longer until I can walk?" I asked.
"We'll try in another week or two. Our splints are not very strong."
"You speak good English. Where did you learn it?"
"The green berets taught many of us. I wish they were here now."
The days wore on. She would wash me every day and jack me off about every three days, and then she would giggle and lay down with me.
Finally my arms started working. I could even move my legs a little. One day a helicopter flew by close overhead. The staccato sound of gun fire followed it and finally it faded away. May Lor came to me and I hugged her for the first time. It really felt good to hold a woman again and May Lor was all woman. She returned my embrace.
"Soon," she whispered, "soon."
She kissed my cheek as we huddled together in the little cave.
"The VC seem to be all around us. How the hell am I going to get out of here?" I asked her.
"I have heard that the SEALS will rescue you and take you away. Take me with you! Please, please."
I couldn't talk myself into leaving her in the mountains. I had become very fond of her. Besides, I belonged to her!
"Of course I'll take you with me. There is no one left to save you."
She snuggled into me and caressed my chest. Her soft little hands stroked my cheeks. A tear ran down her face.
Two days later I took my first wobbly steps with her helping me. When I stood up I realized how tiny she was. She was about four foot seven and probably weighed eighty pounds. She seemed to be strong as a carabao and kept me from falling over as I staggered around the camp. This was pretty impressive because I am six foot two and I weigh around two twenty.
"You will be stronger each day," she said as she prepared my bath.
She hummed a merry little tune as she washed me. Of course I got hard again. This time she grabbed it and squeezed it. Her lips found my lips. I hugged her into me.
"You not ready yet," she giggled.
"Yes I am, yes I am," I whined.
"No, no you must be very strong for Hmong girls."
Arguing with her didn't work. It never does with any woman. I was content to know that when the time finally arrived, she would be there for me. As the days wore on I got stronger and stronger.
About two weeks later after my bath she crawled in behind me, hugged me and said, "You are strong enough now."
I didn't hesitate for a micro-second. I rolled over and squeezed her little body to my big body.
"Are you a virgin?" I quietly asked her.
"What's a virgin?" she answered.