Jack Scully pulled up in front of Margaret Houlihan's tent and laid on the horn.
"Shake a leg, Hot Lips!" he yelled, "I don't want to waste another minute of this twenty-four hour pass!"
"Listen, Sargent, Scully." Margaret began, her voice filled with eagerness.
"It's back to Private." Jack corrected.
Margaret shot Jack a disgusted look. "Back to Private?!"
"Look; Major, Houlihan; I told you once before that my rank goes up and down so much my C.O. calls me yo-yo, and that it's no big deal."
"But Scully . . ."
Jack got out of the jeep and walked over to Margaret. In his most commanding tone, he whispered. "The last time we had this discussion, I left here without having fucked that sweet cunny of yours. I have no intention of letting that happen again. Understood; Major?"
"You're not the only one who had to take a cold shower." Margaret whispered back, her anger having quickly faded.
"Good. Now get your gear so we can move out."
Margaret went back in her tent: Jack close on her heels. She wasted little time folding her dress uniform, and conducting an inventory of everything she'd laid out to take.
"We're only going to be gone for twenty four hours." Jack said, as Margaret finished packing her second suitcase, "And besides, you're going to be naked most of the time."
"Scully!" Margaret laughed, "A girl's got to be prepared! In case we do decide to go out."
Margaret closed her foot locker and turned the key.
"Ready now?" Jack asked.
"Ready."
Jack picked up the two bags and carried them out to the jeep. Unceremoniously, he tossed them in the back next to his duffle bag.
"Let's go; Major!" he said, "Double time!"
Margaret fastened the padlock in place on the door to her tent and gave it a tug. Growing more and more impatient, Jack scooped her in his arms and carried her to the jeep. "Time to move out!" he said, before dropping her on the seat.
"Yes sir!" Margaret replied, snapping a sloppy salute.
Jack stepped up on running board, then climbed over Margaret and got behind the wheel.
**********
The road to Seoul was both well traveled, and well worn, and one that Margaret had been down many times before.
"Where are you going?!" she demanded, as Jack made a hard right onto a very narrow, even bumpier passage.
"A change of plans." Jack replied.
"What do you mean: 'change of plans'?"
"Instead of Seoul, we're going to this little, out-of-the-way place I just found out about. You'll love it! Quiet . . . secluded. The kind of place where you can have wild, rowdy sex and there's no one around to complain."
"Sounds kind-of romantic." Margaret said, in a sultry tone.
**********
Jack turned onto an even narrower road: one that more closely resembled a goat path. About a hundred yards in, he stopped in front of an abandoned hut, that once served as school house.
"Here we are."
"This is it?!" Margaret said, her disappointment showing.
"Yeah." Jack replied, "It may not look like much from the outside, but the roof doesn't leak, and there's a nice brass bed some Colonel left behind after a rendez-vous."
"Charming."
Jack unloaded the jeep, then covered it with some camouflage netting. "Grab your gear. Let's go inside."
"Grab my . . ." Margaret's voice trailed off as Jack picked up his duffle bag and went inside.
For all its faults, the hut wasn't all that bad. No four-star hotel, but with the brass bed, a small table and a cookstove, it had its charms.
"Take off your clothes." Jack said.
"What?"
"Take off your clothes; Major, Houlihan."
"Why?!"
"Because, for the next . . . twenty hours, you're going to be my Moose, and a Moose, in my opinion, should be naked at all times. Now take off your clothes."
"Not funny, Jack."
"Margaret, you have a choice. Either take your clothes off, now; or I'll do it for you. It doesn't matter. But one way or another, in the next sixty seconds, you WILL be naked."
The idea of being Jack's 'Moose' was not as unappealing to Margaret as Hawkeye, B.J., Charles, and the rest of her comrades back at the 4077 might have imagined. To them, she was a tough officer; ready, willing and able to take command at any time. A demanding Head Nurse who expected nothing less than perfection from her staff. Not some passionate nymph that craved sex so badly that she was more than willing to do whatever it would take to have her needs met.
"Well? Which will it be?"
Margaret opened her belt and unfastened her pants. She tugged loose her T-shirt and pulled it over her head and off. She reached behind and unfastened her bra. A second later it lay on the floor atop her shirt: her nipples growing thick in the cool air.
"Keep going." Jack said, not the least bit surprised by Margaret's unconditional surrender.
She smiled a lusty smile, then sat on the table and removed her boots and socks. She stood, and slid her pants down and over her perfect rear. Her panties followed, and the two puddled around her feet. She stepped out of them, and kicked them aside.
"It's a shame all officers don't look as good as you when they're out of uniform." Jack said, "If they did, this war could be a hell of a lot more fun."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Margaret said.
Jack reached inside his duffle bag and took out four lengths of rope. "Get on the bed, Major. On your back. Spreadeagle."
Margaret laid down and stretched out. Jack took the first length of rope and wrapped one end around her right ankle. A square knot finished it off. A few more wraps of the other end around the corner post of the bed (capped off with another square knot) held her ankle in place.
"I've always wanted to be tied to a bed and ravaged." Margaret said.
Jack took the other lengths of rope in hand and methodically moved around the bed carefully staking Margaret to the four corners. When he finished, she tested his handiwork. To no avail.
"You will be gentle with me? Won't you?" Margaret asked.
"Is that what you want? Moose?"
"I . . ."
Margaret started to speak, then stopped. Jack picked up his helmet and started for the door. "I didn't think so. Now don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
**********
Jack set his helmet (filled with water) on the bed next to Margaret and balanced it against her right breast. "What's that for?" she asked.
"Your shave."
"My what?!"
"Shave, Miss Houlihan. A buddy of mine was in Tokyo last month, and the 'geisha' he had was completely bare; down there. He said it was really . . . hot."
"You're going to shave my . . .?! What will I tell my nurses when they see me in the shower?!"
"Tell them you didn't want to loose that bet with Hawkeye. The one about whether or not you're a true blonde? Tell them you figured that if you shaved your short-hairs, he'd have no way of proving you aren't."
"I can't tell them that!!"
"Then tell them that you like the way BJ's mustache feels when he goes down on you."
"Scully!"
Jack searched his duffle bag and took out his shaving mug and brush. Without saying a word, he added a little water, and began to build the lather. He spoke: "I'm curious, Margaret, have you ever been shaved before?"
Valiantly, she tugged at her bounds. "Once. Back in nursing school. When we were learning how to prep someone for surgery."
"Who did the shaving?"
"A fellow student. We had to practice on each other."
Jack set the mug and brush aside. He returned to his duffle bag and took out his straight razor and leather strop. He drew the blade along its length, and back again. "If I'd been thinking, I'd have had you build a fire in the stove so we could heat this up. But a this point it would be more trouble than its worth."
Margaret watched as Jack soaked the corner of her shirt; then winced, as the icy water was worked into her mound.
"Not too cold?" Jack asked.
"No. Not at all." Margaret replied.
Jack picked up the mug and brush, then began to work the lather into her thick bush.
"Ready? Major, Houlihan?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really."
Margaret braced herself, and lay perfectly still as jack set about his task. She wanted to struggle, but the feel of the sharpened steel against her most sensitive parts reminded her who was in charge, and how bad of an idea it would be to try and fight it.
With skill that would rival that of any of the surgeons, Jack guided the razor across Margaret's mound. Methodically, he shaved away her womanly curls. His pace was slow. His hand: sure and steady.
"When your nurses see how sexy you look without all this fuzz, they may start shaving theirs as well." Jack said.
Though she could not explain why, Margaret found herself becoming more aroused than she had been on that sultry afternoon when she and Donald made love for all to see on the balcony of that hotel in Tokyo. It almost angered her. Especially when her juices began to seep from her pussy; finding their way down the crack of her voluptuous buttocks.
Jack rinsed the blade, then moved on to her inner thighs and swelling pussy lips.
Margaret's heart was pounding with fear and anticipation. With each pass of the blade, the feelings deep inside her pussy grew. "Oh Scully. Hurry. Please!"
"You want me to hurry? I thought it was the Colonel's policy never to rush a delicate procedure like this."
"It is. But Scully. Oh god Scully I need to cum!"
Jack laughed, and shook his head. "You'd never make it as a moose." he said, "Trying to put your own needs first."
Gently, Jack stretched her outer lips and relieved them of their sparse covering of curls.
