Page 25 of Down and Dirty

Chapter 5

A woman can have multiple WHAT?…

Britta was facing a difficult dilemma, unlike any she’d ever experienced afore.

Should she attempt to go back to the place where she’d fallen off the cliff, knowing it would mean a life in the nunnery? If reversal of this bizarre experience was even possible.

And if she could go back, should she just yield to her father’s demand that she accept wedlock to one of his toadish puppets?

Or should she take up Zack-hairy’s offer to deliver her to Hilda and her sanctuary here? That would mean she was depending on another person; she misdoubted Hilda and her women needed her warrior skills here.

Or should she continue to participate in this strange female unit, the WEALS? It would be difficult, but really, it was what she was: a fighter.

Sad of mood, Britta began to think she really had died when she’d gone over that cliff. She just could not credit Zack-hairy’s time-travel theory.

But then the paths of destiny were in the hands of the Norns, beyond the comprehension of mere humans. Besides, the Norse culture was an ancient one, steeped in fanciful notions: gods, spells, trolls, giants, dwarves, sea serpents and other fierce creatures, Valhalla with its golden halls, the Valkyries themselves. But this was even more incredible than all the sagas.

Let tomorrow bring what it will, she finally concluded.

America was an enchanted land where carriages carried people without the use of horses, where metal structures flew across the skies, where water flowed freely inside buildings, where rooms were lit not by candle or torch but tiny magic wall levers, where women had little cylinders of fiber which they inserted inside their bodies to collect their monthly flows, where women’s arses were tattooed, where tiny pellets could be swallowed every day to prevent a man’s seed from taking root in a woman’s womb.

Then there was the food in this land. So much of it and so varied! People ate here for pleasure, not just to fill empty stomachs. She could love this land for its chocolate alone. Chocolate cake. Chocolate pie. Chocolate cook-hes. Hot chocolate beverage. Chocolate sweetmeats, known as fudge. Chocolate iced cream.

And, finally, it was a land of freedom and equality for all, even women. A land where women could have multiple orgy-as-hims, whilst a man could only have one. Finally some fairness in this world!

When Zack-hairy had mentioned orgy-as-hims to her earlier today, she had not known what he meant. She did now. Since then, the women had spoken at length about their various orgy-as-hims. Explosions, splinterings, heated frenzies, shatterings… all confusing terms, except for the fact that the women liked these orgy-as-hims. Immensely. Despite being a virgin at her advanced age of twenty and seven, it did not take long for her to comprehend the idea of a pleasure so intense it was like a little death. Apparently these orgy-as-hims were best delivered in the company of a man.

Right now, it was hardly dark, but she and the women who shared her sleeping chamber were all talked out and preparing for bed. They would have to get up very early, but especially her as punishment for fornicating with the pretty lout… which she had not even done, let alone have an orgy-as-him.

As the women continued to talk on this subject, Britta said, “By Odin, I vow, I am going to have one of those someday.”

They all looked at her, dumbfounded, then laughed. Her partner, Terri, gave her a one-armed hug and whispered in her ear, “Honey, you and I are going to have such fun!”

She hoped so, because thus far her experiences had been far from fun, more like torture.

Britta wore a long sleeping shirt of Terri’s, which would have hung down to Terri’s calves but hit midthigh on her. In the front was a painting of a frog with its middle finger raised. It must be some odd hand signal in this country.

Terri had been a physical education teacher in a school for young adults, called a high school. She had been a gymnast in her earlier years. Gymnasts were people who bent their bodies in various contorted ways, for what reason Britta had yet to fathom. Although she had now seen thirty winters, Terri claimed to still be able to do a “kick arse backbend,” which was apparently a much-to-be-desired talent in this country. Britta vowed to try this, as well.

“Now dish, girl, what’s with you and that pretty SEAL? Man, I wouldn’t mind him putting his boondockers under my bed.” Terri waggled her eyebrows at Britta.

The other three ladies in the room — there were four pallets in each sleeping chamber — agreed.

Donita Leone, a tall, slim woman with ebony skin and tight black curls like a cap, said, “I heard that Lieutenant Floyd is the poster boy for hottie Navy SEAL… you know, screw everything with breasts.

Britta gave Donita her full attention. “I have noticed that Zack-hairy and some of the other leaders carry the title lewd-tenant. Is that not an odd choice of naming? Though perhaps not so much for the pretty boy with the lewd fingers.”

“Huh?” Donita said.

Terri had told Britta earlier that Donita was an aging — at twenty-seven — Olympic swimmer who had suffered a great scandal years ago when she was accused of “drugging,” whatever that was… a form of cheating. The Olympics were something like the old Greek games. The charges had been proven false but never lived down. In recent years, she had been diving from a high board through fire into a pool of water at circus events. That was something Britta would like to see.

The fourth woman, Marie Delacroix — a Cay-jun, just like Cage, whom she’d met afore — summed up the questions for everyone. “Did ya do the deed with the pretty bad boy, chère?” Marie, a Marine, was the only one of them with previous military experience, except for Britta. She had good reason to want to fight terrorists, her father having been one of those affected by a bombing that took place at some far-famed towers.

Britta was fairly certain she knew what “the deed” meant, having been accused of and punished for it by the commander. “I did no such thing, even though the rogue has tried repeatedly.”

“Whoa! You knew Lieutenant Floyd before?” Terri asked.

“I met him and some of his comrades-in-arms — Torolf, JAM, Geek, and Cage — two years ago.” Britta was unsure of her position here in America, and some instinct warned to be careful how much of her past she exposed. “In the Norselands.”