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The Tribute

By: Skidder



The chieftain of the town of Eoferwic (now known as York), a broad muscled man with a braided beard and long braided hair sat back in his chair and watched the goings on around him. The crew of the ship that brought him from Denmark to Britain and up the River Ouse in a surprise attack on the city was celebrating their easy victory over the Northumbrians. He drank from a horn of mead as he watched his men. His day had been spent in meetings with one representative after another from the Northumbrian Earls who were pledging fealty to him in an attempt to retain their lands by bending the knee to the strong Danish chieftain.

He was just about to call for the evening meal to be brought out when his steward came up and spoke quietly in his ear, "Earl Hjartan, Osbert of Bebbanburg is here to see you. He didn't send a representative. He came himself. And he brought tribute. He brought substantial tribute." The steward looked back towards the door of the hall where a gray haired man in obviously well made clothes.

Hjartan nodded and looked at the steward, "thank you, Sven. Bring him forward and I will see him now." As Sven started to turn away, Hjartan grabbed his arm. "This will be the last one for today. I am tired of politics." 

Sven nodded and went to speak to the man known as Osbert. Sven spoke to him for a couple of minutes before turning and escorting the man down the length of the hall, stopping five paces from the dais on which Hjartan's seat was. "Earl Hjartan, may I present Ealdorman Osbert of Bebbanburg. With him is his ward, Brida. From what I understand she is his younger brother's eldest child."

Hjartan nodded to both of them, first Osbert, then Brida. He chuckled as Brida stepped back trying to hide behind Osbert and his two escorts. Osbert stepped forward one pace and went down to one knee. Hjartan looked at the two guards with Osbert and was barely able to hide a smile as they frown and scowl at their lord bending a knee to a foreign conqueror. He listened to Osbert as the Briton spoke the words of fealty, adding an offer of tribute to the Dane. Hjartan leaned forward a bit, looking at Osbert as the man rose again.

"Ealdorman Hjartan, I come to you tonight with an oath of fealty and an offer of tribute to seal the bargain between the domains of Bebbanburg and Eoferwic." Osbert stepped back and to the side. He looked at his two guards and nodded. The two guards stepped closer towards each other and grabbed Brida's arms. "Lord Hjartan, I give you Bebbanburg's tribute to the Lord of Eoferwic and a sign of our hope for continued peace." He gestured to Brida with a broad sweeping gesture as the guards stepped forward with her still held tightly between them.

"WHAT?!" Brida exclaimed, trying to pull her arms from the guards iron grip. She looked at the two guards, blazing gaze going from one to the other. "I demand you release me immediately!" The guards refused to speak to her or even look at her as they dragged her before the dais. She turned her head, fiery eyes locking on Osbert. "You told me that I was coming to make fealty to him with you when you brought him the tribute from Bebbanburg! You lying cur! You're doing this to get the lands that are to be part of my dowry. My father trusted you!" Osbert looked at her silently, a small smile the only emotion on his face.

Hjartan looked at the young woman, drinking from his horn of mead as his eyes roamed over her. A soft white woolen dress covered her, clinging to her tightly across her full breasts. He watched impassively as the two guards pushed her to the floor. As she hit the stones before the dais, Hjartan rose and emptied his horn, setting it down in his seat. As he turned around, looking back at the girl, he saw her look up at him, sheer terror in her bright eyes. She looked around quickly, her long, brown hair swinging wildly this way and that as she tried to find a way to escape.

Hjartan walked to where the girl was sprawled on the stones in his new hall, walking slowly around her, his piercing blue eyes locked on her. He looked over at Osbert, a fleeting glance before looking back to the girl. "Is she pure? If she is not virginal..." Osbert cut in, "Nay my lord, she is a virgin. You may check for yourself if you wish."

Hjartan nodded. "I will do that." He looks back to the girl on the floor, her eyes still blazing with anger as she looked up at him. "Stand up and strip girl." Brida shook her head, splitting her glare between Hjartan and Osbert. Hjartan looked at her and spoke again quietly, "Girl, you will stand up and you will strip, or you will be stood up and stripped by someone else."

Brida looked up at him, the pure anger in her eyes beginning to be replaced by fear once again. She just stared at Hjartan until he turned to one of his men and opened his mouth to speak. Then she spoke quickly, "No, I will do as you ask." She got her feet under her and rose, trying to dust her white dress off with her hands as she looked at Hjartan.

The large Dane looked back at her and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes roaming her concealed curves as he waited for them to be revealed. He lowered his arms and began to once again walk in a slow circle around her as she reached to the bone fastenings on her dress, undoing them one at a time. With each small fastening undone more of her smooth pale skin was revealed. Finally her arms were the only things that were keeping the dress from falling to the floor. Hjartan walked up behind her and spoke quietly, "Drop the dress, Brida." He then continued to walk in a circle around her, keeping his eyes on her exposed flesh.

Brida, tears of indignation in her eyes, lowered her arms, the dress falling to pool at her feet in a puddle of white wool. Tears still rolling down her face, she tried to cover herself with her hands as she heard the whistles and murmurs of appreciation from the men in the hall, her head rising, and eyes focused on a tapestry on the back wall of the hall in an attempt to ignore all around her.

Hjartan began to walk around her once more, nodding his head in appreciation at the show of her beauty. He stopped behind her and, reaching around her, took her arms one at a time and gently raised them, bending them and clasping her fingers together behind her neck at her hairline. Gently, but firmly when she tried to resist, he pulled her elbows back so they were along the same line as her shoulders, spread out like wings behind her head. With a slow step he moved around in front of her. He reached down and took a hold of one leg and bent it slightly, turning it outward and resting it on the toes and the ball of the foot. He stepped back and looked her up and down slowly, a smile forming on his face.

Brida closed her eyes as she felt him positioning her as he wanted her. She had felt the futility of resisting him as he raised her arms and so just allowed him to do as he wished. Opening her eyes, she again focused her attention on the tapestry on the wall depicting a hunting scene as Hjartan began to again circle her slowly. She fought not to flinch as she felt his hand on her belly, rough fingers pressing tight against her flesh as if testing its firmness.

Hjartan smiled at the feel of her soft skin under his fingers, looking over at Osbert and Sven. "Very nice. Soft but firm at the same time." He stopped behind her and placed both hands on her belly, sliding them up her torso slowly. The noise in the hall went quiet as his hands ascended her pale flesh, every inch higher bringing more silence to the celebrating men. Hjartan's smile grew wider as his hands slid up to cup her full soft breasts in his large hands. He squeezed the warm flesh gently, holding them in his hands for only a few seconds before releasing them, plucking her hard nipples with his fingertips before moving his hands downward once more.

He moved his hands down her sides and gripped her thighs, first one, then the other, almost massaging up and down the smooth flesh. He straightened up a bit, one hand sliding up her inner thigh to caress the folds of her sex before squeezing her ass. He moved his other hand between her sleek thighs to caress the smooth skin of her inner thighs, his fingers sliding up and down slowly, the edge of his hand brushing her moist folds, causing her to tense almost involuntarily. Suddenly Hjartan slapped her ass with a loud smack, her body tensing as he does. As she starts to relax from this latest indignity, he slips one finger into her until it presses against her maidenhead. 

Hjartan stepped back and pulled his hand from between Brida's thighs as she sobbed, her eyes closed. He looked over at Osbert and Sven and nodded. "The girl is acceptable. There will be peace between Eoferwic and Bebbanburg." The men in the hall cheered and laughed, the celebration resuming as they saw that the inspection was over. 

Sven took Osbert's arm and gestured towards the table nearest the dais. The two of them walked over to the table and, as Osbert sat down in the chair Sven pulled out for him, a servant came over and poured the horn in front of him full of ale. Another servant brought him a platter full of meat, bread and cheese. The Ealdorman of Bebbanburg watched from the table as Hjartan spun Brida around and lifted her onto his shoulder, heading for the stairs.

Hjartan took a tighter grip on Brida as she squirmed on his shoulder demanding that he put her down, looking over his other shoulder, "Sven, you and the crew keep Osbert entertained. I am going to go sample Bebbanburg's tribute to Eoferwic." He turned to go up to his chambers, walking carefully up the narrow stairs, laughing at the calls of his men, some offering advice, some asking if he is going to share this tribute as he has shared out all other tributes from the Britons. With a laugh, he calls over his shoulder, "I might share this tribute. Then again, I might not. You never know" as he disappears up the stairs with Brida over his shoulder, giving her firm ass another sharp swat.

Hjartan walked into his chambers with Brida over his shoulder, kicking the door shut and walking over to the bed, depositing her unceremoniously onto it. She tried to scramble away from him, her eyes showing the fear she felt. Hjartan reached down and grabbed her ankle in a grip like iron, pulling her back across the bed towards him. "No no little Brida, you cannot be going anywhere just yet. The fun is just starting."

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "No, please no. Don't do this."

Hjartan laughed. "You say no now, little Pretty. Soon, though, you will be begging me not to stop." He looked at her sternly. "You should know the futility of trying to escape. You are in the middle of my holding. You will be much better treated in here with me than you will if you make it out that door and into the hall with my crew." He laughed quietly. "You heard some of the suggestions they made. I don't think you would enjoy that very much." He released her ankle and removed his belt, tossing it to the dressing table near the bed. Watching her the entire time, he pulled his tunic off over his head, smiling at her as he began to untie the laces of his pants.

Brida forced herself to look into his eyes, trying to keep her attention anywhere but where his hands were. She heard the rustle as his pants dropped to the floor and, almost of their own accord, her eyes dropped to his groin. Her mouth dropped open at her first sight of his cock, her face flaming red with embarrassment. 

Hjartan laughed when he saw her reaction to seeing him nude. "That's right little Pretty. It's all for you." He laughed as he began to walk towards the bed, noticing that her eyes didn't leave his rapidly swelling cock. He walked over to the bed and once again grabbed her ankle. He pulled her towards him until her ass was at the edge of the bed. He knelt down beside the bed and gripped her hips, forcing them apart as she tried desperately to keep them closed.

He looked up into her eyes as he lowered his head towards the joining of her thighs, smiling, a feral look of triumph, as he pressed his lips tight to her sex. He speared his tongue into her suddenly, licking slowly up and down her slit, disregarding her sobs as he lapped up and down deliberately. He kept her thighs spread with his hands as he licked his way along her slit, moving in over and around, spreading his saliva around liberally to moisten her entrance. He chuckled quietly as her body jerked as his tongue flicked against her clit. Feeling her body's reaction, he flicked his tongue against her clit again and again, each time her body jerking with the contact. As he ran his tongue slowly down her slit, he began to taste the warm sweetness of her as her body betrayed her by beginning to show her arousal at the attention.

Hjartan rose up, keeping his hips between her thighs to keep them spread. Brida tried to get away from him again but he reached down and grabbed her wrists. Quickly he tied them together and then to the bed. With one hand he plucked at her nipples, firmly squeezing and rolling the hard buds as with the other hand reached down between her thighs to caress her clit with his thumb. As she responded to his fingers, he moved his hard rod to her opening, forcing the engorged head past the entrance into her tight tunnel. Feeling that she wasn't quite wet enough, he just rocked slowly back and forth as his thumb kept teasing her clit, stroking it first with a feathers caress, then with a tight pressure, and again with the touch of a feather. 

She closed her eyes, struggling against the fiber binding her to the bed, trying to get away from his touch and his caressing fingers. Tears rolled from her eyes in embarrassment as she felt her body betraying her, her sex moistening to allow him easier access to her virgin opening. Voice quivering with dread, she opened her eyes and looked at Hjartan, "Please, I beg of you. Don't do this. I can give you lands. I am heir to vast estates. That is why Osbert brought me here. So he can claim my lands as his own."

Hjartan smiled down at her. "I will do this. And if I wish, I will take your lands as my own afterwards. But even if Osbert keeps the lands, I will still get tribute from them, so they will practically be mine anyway."

As she opened her mouth to speak, he thrust forward, his hard shaft easily battering past the barrier of her virginity. The words she was about to speak were replaced by a cry as his thick length powered fully into her, stretching the newly opened tunnel. Hjartan, after the initial hard thrust, slowly rocked back and forth on top of her, sliding himself in and out of her exquisitely tight tunnel. He leaned down, putting his hands on each side of her as he thrust faster into her tightness, his hips meeting hers with each long deep thrust into her increasingly willing pussy. 

Soon her struggles changed their tone, from attempts to escape to passionate attempts to reach Hjartan as her pleasure increased with each long deep thrust into her. "Please untie me Hjartan. Let me hold you." She lifted her body to him, eyes pleading with him as well to untie her as he thrust faster into her. She moaned deeply as he pulled almost from her now slick tunnel and drove back into her, his eyes locking on hers as his weight pinned her repeatedly to the bed.

Hjartan moaned with pleasure as her tightness began to welcome his driving shaft, putting all of his weight on one arm, the other hand reaching up to undo the knot at her wrists. As soon as the knot came loose, her arms wrapped tight around him, pulling her body up to his as he continued to rock forward relentlessly into her, their hips driving together again and again. He wrapped his arms tight around her and rolled, pulling her on top of him as she squealed in surprise.

Laughing, Brida pulled her hands out from under him and put them on his chest, pushing herself up as his hands slid down her back and gripped her firm ass, squeezing as her legs lifted and dropped her on his turgid shaft. She moaned in ecstasy as his hips rose to meet her when she dropped onto him, his pistoning cock rubbing the tip of her clit as she leaned forward slightly. She looked into his eyes as she felt his hard cock pushing deep into her with each thrust upwards, his feet on the bed so he could arch his hips up to meet hers.

Squeezing her firm ass he kept driving into her gripping tightness. He leaned up, his teeth closing on one hard nipple as her breasts bounced from the impact of their hips slamming together. His moans grew louder with each thrust as her own cries of pleasure began to build until, as his throbbing cock pulsed within her, sending stream after stream of his hot sticky cum deep spraying into her waiting pussy, she came as well, her already tight pussy milking his pulsing cock with each hard thrust into her. He groaned deeply in pleasure, the sound muffled by the nipple between his teeth as he spent himself within the slickly squeezing confines of her sweltering depths.

As Hjartan dropped back on the bed with a moan, Brida collapsed on his chest, noticing for the first time the deep marks her nails had left in his weathered skin. She ran her fingers over them as she lay on his chest, his thick cock still within her tightness, watching as blood began to fill a couple of the marks. She sighed happily and turned her head up to kiss his chin. She murmured "I am your servant, Lord" as she rested her head on his chest.

He laughed softly. "This I know, lass. I expect no less." He looked down at her with his arms pillowed behind his head as he felt her shifting and saw her looking at him curiously. With another laugh he winked. "I would expect no less from the Ealdorwoman of Bebbanburg." As her mouth fell open in shock, he raised one hand to stop her from speaking. "As you have only Osbert for a male relation, at least for now, I will make Bebbanburg a ward of my estates under your control until someone comes for you as a bride."

Brida, still in a state of shock, could only stammer "W-w-why, Lord?"

Hjartan smiled at her. "Because I do not care for the way you Northumbrians do your politics. You smile to each other's faces and the whole time you're just looking for the best place to plant the knife in their back. It is not just the people of this Kingdom either. The other Kingdoms, Mercia, East Anglia and Wessex, they are all that way. It weakens you and is why we will eventually conquer the entire island. You have shown forthrightness and strength of character. That is why you will be the Ealdorwoman of Bebbanburg."

She just smiled, nodding her head silently with tears in her eyes, able to just choke out softly, "Thank you, Lord." She looked around the room and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Hjartan smiled and caressed her cheek. "Come sweet Ealdorwoman. Let us go and inform your uncle Osbert of my decision." He lifted her from atop him with barely any effort and set her beside him in the bed before swinging his legs over the side of it and reaching for his pants. He slid his legs into them and stood up, turning to face her as she jumped up and hugged him tightly before letting him go and sitting back on the bed, looking down at herself with a bit of a blush.

"Hjartan? My dress is still downstairs. It would not be right for me to go to become the Ealdorwoman of Bebbanburg nude."

Hjartan smiled and walked over to a small wardrobe, opening it up and pulling out a long fur-lined robe. He laughed and tossed it to her. "That will be a little big on you, but it will cover you nicely until you can reclaim your dress, and even after."

Brida caught the robe and slipped it on, belting it around her waist and standing up as Hjartan finished getting dressed. The long robe fell heavy on her shoulders and trailed behind her. She smiled up at Hjartan as he reached over and adjusted the fall of the robe slightly.


The Tribute of Tender Hearts



The idea for this story started out simple enough, then very soon became more sensitive and tender as I worked through yet again some of my research on WWII veterans experiences and my correspondence with their families in the years since. In awe at their willing and dedicated sacrifice, I am pleased to honor in this small way all those who waited for them to come home again... many of whom wait even yet... in their twilight years, holding to a dream that has sustained them in their long travail. May their hopes for togetherness yet come to pass. 

*

"'And then she screamed at me!' she sobbed. 

"In between her tears, her voice cracked and I could feel her heart wrenching inside her as she sat up again and looked at me. 

"'Then she said that just because I had 'big tits' I thought all the boys would chase after me for me to show them. I don't think that, Jake!" There was a look of chagrin on her face, embarrassed, I think, that she was even telling me about what had happened. Then that sweet blush of hers flooded her countenance and she didn't know what to do with herself. 

"It was easy to invite her to snuggle close to me again and I wrapped her in my arms to soothe her hurt a little. 

"I had not had any idea that girls could be quite so vicious with each other, especially ones who were supposed to be friends. What could I say? I did not have near the experience with girls that some of the other fellows did; of course, some of their 'experience' I figured I could do without. As to the four girls, it appeared to me that whatever friendship had been between them was now shattered and gone. How could Katherine go back to the other girls who had spoken so hurtfully? What I mean, though, is what kind of response would be helpful at the moment? I was not at all sure." 

Jake was in no hurry, and chose his words carefully. 

"Only as I held her in my arms, and allowed myself to begin to think of her as 'my girl' did the fog clear. I think I was quiet for a long time, and her sobs gradually ceased as she relaxed with me. We had become close friends, perhaps not as close as brother and sister, but friends who could talk with each other and discuss things. I liked her the first time I saw her. Neither of us really fit with the small group into which we had been sort of tossed by chance." 

Jake had been on a liberty downtown and fallen in with three sailors for a while one evening and the four of them had met these four girls. The others were all heavy party animals, but Jake and Katherine struck a different note together, were more inclined to conversation, and enjoyed ideas. Of course, her natural good looks didn't hurt anything at all, and was a very strong draw. Jake admitted that to me right off, and that told me he was more serious about her than I had ever seen him. She wore her auburn hair long down her back, he added with a wistful note and a casual wave of his hand, and it fell about her pretty face in a very attractive way, even when she used a ribbon to tie it back. I had never seen him so wrapped around the axel over a girl. 

One very obvious and impressive feature was her very statuesque figure. She was only to my shoulder high, but she was... well, 'stacked' as some fellows would say. I didn't meet her until later, but this night after watch Jake only mentioned that Katherine carried a lot of 'top hamper.' That is an older metaphor used by some sailors, with reference to full-rigged sailing ships running before a fresh breeze with all sails set, and filled by the wind. In such cases, one might say that a beautiful ship carried more 'top hamper' than others did. 

Evidently, I thought to myself, judging from Jake's not at all disrespectful comment, Katharine carried her share of 'top hamper.' 

Not too much, though. Her figure was not out of balance, but very finely tuned, and, in my judgment, she carried herself well, with grace and reserve. Some girls might have flaunted themselves for the attention they could surely garner. 

Katherine did not. 

That frustrated the other girls, he ventured in explanation, made them jealous, probably. "Whether she flaunts it or not," and I heard some distress in his normally confident voice, "her 'top hamper' is a major attraction for the fellows." 

Yes, I could understand that without further explanation. There was a long pause in the darkness, and I thought I could hear his teeth grinding together in anger, and I waited for him to go on. 

"The other three guys have commented," he continued slowly, "when away from the girls, that she makes their hands itch to get a feel of her." 

His nature was not to let any of his frustration show outwardly, but in his tone I could sense his disgust at such crudity. From the time we had been friends I knew he did not look at a girl in that way, even though he appreciated a pretty girl just as we all did. 

Basically, we had both talked about girls a lot, and so now I could detect the subtle changes in his feelings. In just a couple of dates, of which he had told me essentially nothing, this girl had somehow touched his heart and called forth something quite special. 

"I have found from experience that I have to be choosy and selective; and only on our previous date had I begun to feel I could, well, exert my own personality a little. When she told me this afternoon what Bobby had said to her, my blood heated up. I was so angry with Bobby and the other girls for their insensitivity and crudeness, and I spoke out almost before I had thought through what I was saying. 

"'You do not have tits, Kit!' 

"'Animals have tits.' And," he said softly, "Almost immediately, I could feel her go stiff in my arms." 

"'Girls have... ladies have breasts.' I was more than a little astounded at myself," he continued on, "that I would say such a thing to her, even though I felt the difference in the word usage very clearly. To me the one label is demeaning to a girl, reducing her to a much lesser status than she deserves, and I think she felt this connotation also." Jake paused a moment, but I could tell he was not finished. "That was part of what hurt her so badly. 

"'A lady has breasts,' I repeated to her, 'and they are one of the features of her physical beauty. I've never seen your breasts, Kit, but I think yours are the most beautiful I have ever imagined. Perhaps some day you'll show...' and I froze before I could finish the sentence." 

He sat there, looking off across the water to the lights in the shipyard, shocked at his own words to her. "I had been running on open and caught myself." 

He stopped, his head drooped and he shook it like a condemned man, and his voice cascaded into the depth as if he were reliving the experience. 

"What will she think of me now? How dumb can a guy be, really! The words were out, and she could easily finish the sentence without any problem. She stirred in my arms and began to sit up next to me carefully, and I closed my eyes wishing myself into some crack in the earth to be swallowed up forever. 

"I opened my eyes and found her looking into my face intently, though I could not read the thoughts running through her pretty head. 

"'Thank you,' she said to me, 'Thank you for the compliment, Jake. That's the nicest thing any fellow has ever said to me.'" 

He turned to me in the dim light, as were he asking me whether such a girl could be real. 

• 

That's how he first related the story to me, in the first person like that. We were sitting together in the cool of the night on the seawall behind our barracks. We had just been relieved off watch, it was after midnight, and he was all wound up and needed to talk. We knew each other well enough that we could listen to each other without comment. On this occasion, he was just overwhelmed at his experience that afternoon with Katherine. 

I don't think he had mentioned her to me by name more than two or three times, though I knew he had made the acquaintance of somebody that meant something special to him. Now, finally, I was getting the low down, though I knew him well enough to know that intimate details would not be forthcoming. That was not Jake. 

He was particularly touched by her sweetness. She thanked him for his compliment and I could see in his eyes as we talked that night that just the memory of their intimacy on the sofa that afternoon almost caused him to loose his train of thought altogether. 

Well, girls can do that to a fellow. I know; Caroline had done that to me, and I loved it. 

I'm Charlie, and I'm relating the story to you as I heard it over a period of time, from him during those first days of their acquaintance as we stood radio watches together at the Naval Air Station Ford Island in Pearl Harbor, and on some occasions from her, only much later. I'll try to fill in some details and make it interesting. 

• 

The few days just before that had been very difficult for her, and that in the light of the fact that her entire life had been hardship and anxiety. This was not so uncommon in that day. Growing up is a challenge, doing it in a rural setting during the Depression years was perhaps as rough a road as there is. 

She was borne Katherine Anne, fourth and youngest child to a family struggling to succeed on their San Joaquin Valley farmland through an extended period of economic trials that seemed endless and unrelenting. Homemaking and farm chores were demanding, but she could see the need for much cooperative effort and worked willingly and with increasing skill and initiative. Her father and her older brothers were protective, especially as she approached womanhood. She felt the changes in her own being through her high school years, and the sometimes penetrating stares of older boys, the seasonal farm workers, and even her brothers, though their protection sheltered her from much of the world around her. 

Her mother might have been a greater support to her, but her attitude seemed at odds and unavailable. In fact, slender and even skinny in her figure, her mother was probably reeling inside herself at her husband's reproach at her deficiencies. Her daughter's blossoming in her junior year opened the distance between her and her daughter. I am guessing here, since Katherine was never really able to speak of it to me, and Jake's comments were very brief. Envy, questions that have no answer, recriminations with no resolutions meant that Katharine was left alone much of the time on a farm remote from other social contacts that might have assisted her in accommodating the challenges of adolescence and approaching adulthood. 

Her last two years of school did bring some meaningful changes. Her father brought his daughter into the office to keep better tabs on the finances and the shipping movements. This introduced her to bookkeeping and numbers, and strengthened her organizational skills, but also exposed her to truckers ever alert for an easy lay, and the crudeness of their comments. She realized that her breasts had developed to be larger than many other girls were and that this brought on much attention from men, yet the lack of feminine contact left her with a very unbalanced and insecure sense of self. She was by nature shy and reserved, made sure her dress was modest, neat, and fresh, kept her chestnut hair, long and thick and glorious, brushed out and tied with one of her small collection of bright ribbons. These were simple standards of grooming she set for herself, but they added to her natural beauty and, on their own merit, especially against the contrast of the laborers all around, including women, many Mexicans, and the sweat and dirt and even squalor of the farm in the summer's heat, made her stand out like a beacon of desirability. She was too naïve, I think, to have recognized her situation for what it was. 

She felt her father's protective influence when he set her up in the office with a Dutch door, over which all the paperwork passed, her youngest brother being responsible for tallies and counts of the outgoing shipments just outside. This put a barrier and a little distance between her and the many loose hands prone to grope and grasp. Her sense of well being was shattered, however, when she deduced from her own observations that her father and older brothers were often involved with 'meetings' with some of the work force, most often a single Mexican girl about her own age or younger. Something broke for her at the realization of what was happening, and in her mind there was no setting it aright and no one to whom she could turn. The world beyond not only beckoned, it was now for her also a refuge from a home now no longer a haven. 

She graduated from high school in the spring of 1941, very near the top of her class, and having done well in English. She answered a newspaper add for dining room and housekeeping staff for the Matson Lines vessels sailing between the west coast and the Hawaiian Islands, and was thrilled when they accepted her. In July, she sailed from San Francisco for Honolulu, and the sharp and dramatic break with her past was as much revelation and it was refuge. 

Among the several younger staff aboard were three other girls in a very similar situation. All were from farms in the Valley, looking for something better. Bobby had sailed once before, and could kind of clue the others in to how things went. Tony's hair was short and coal black, and she was a bubbly, outgoing girl, pleasant and fun. Brenda's hair was almost fire engine red, and from the first, she went by the nickname "Red." She was talkative, clever, and a little mouthy for Katharine's taste, but that was fine. Not everyone was the same, she reasoned. 

They bunked in a stateroom for four, and after a second day at sea, hearing the constant talk of all kinds of new things swimming through her head, Katharine had a moment to herself in the bathroom after her shower. Bobby had left her dressmakers tape measure hanging over the clothes hook. The other girls' conversation about boys and sex and measurements and figures and such stopped her cold. She had never talked so openly about such things, nor had the opportunity to do such a thing, but now found herself checking her own body carefully. Long hours of farm work, lots of walking, and a diet skimpy on sugars and fats left her with a very trim and well toned figure, but she was surprised at herself: her waist was only 21 inches, her hips 34, and her breasts – she already knew she was larger than the other girls were. She was surprised at how much larger. Was she too big? Too big to be pretty? She sensed that height played into the equation, and she was as tall as Bobby at 5-8. Tony and Red were two or three inches shorter, or more. But what did that mean? The question bothered her deeply. Was she too big to be pretty? 

And there was no one she felt she could ask. 

That in the off hours and the rest times the male crew members flocked to her seemed to tell her nothing. Their attention was like the men she had experienced on the farm; banter, small talk, and crude jests and casual suggestions left her unmoved and aloof. She had learned that they offered her nothing, and by instinct she knew to brush them away like flies. 

Katherine's particular blessing... well, from a man's point of view it is a blessing, but she didn't know what to do with it... was that she had the physical attributes, the very nicely developed attributes of a young girl with extraordinary charm, and the looks of an innocent little pixie fresh from some story book. She was really quite a looker. Her gray-green eyes were bright and playful, but full of sweetness and sincerity. Her facial features were smooth and youthful, and complemented her flashing eyes and pixie-like exuberance for life. Her hair was a light chestnut, and the sunshine in Hawaii soon brought out the rich streaks of reddish blonde. She wore it long, and down almost all the time, and it often fell across her face and needed her to whisk it away, and her efforts to control it that way were an unconscious study in delightful and uninhibited femininity. Almost always it splashed down onto her shoulders in cascading disarray. 

Some might have thought it artless and untended; for an appreciative gentleman, it was, in a rustic and free-spirited way, breathtakingly beautiful. Jake acknowledged that she had him in her spell. 

She had always dressed very conservatively. Jake told me this later as I got to know them better. She had been very concerned that she was not pretty, that – he explained carefully – her breasts were too big to let her be really attractive to a man. She had always dressed comfortably and without much attention to style or shape. That changed gradually after they became close, and she gained more confidence in herself. 

In relating her earlier experiences to me, Katherine spoke well of her family, and her older brothers, but there was a piece she seemed always to overlook, consciously or otherwise. Something hindered her having a more confident feeling about herself. She was very private with me, but Jake mentioned once when we spoke about her, that she had told him about her mother's aloofness and the Mexican girl, and these things had created a barrier for her. 

They also must have contributed in their own way to a particular strength, I thought. You had to get to know her a little and watch her. Although she had the body and the face of a temptress, including that impressive top hamper, and the personality of a playful seductress, she was always reserved, gracious, and respectful, never cheap or sexually suggestive. She also had the integrity of person and intuition to seek for what she wanted and the innate savvy not to be led astray by cheap flattery and a shallow come-on from any fellow that tried to cajole her. Polite and friendly, she could nevertheless turn a fellow off with a sweep of her hand, and he knew it was over. 

At a dinner party at their apartment just weeks after we three couples were married in October, I had the chance to ask her directly, in a brief private moment, what it was she saw in Jake that attracted her. We were good friends by then and she teased me often about my questions to everybody, as were I, she taunted playfully, a writer gathering material for a novel, and laughed. Still, very seriously, she bounced right back with her answer. He was a man, a gentleman, she said, and the simple, forthright declaration spoke a great deal about her as a lady. He was very intelligent and interesting, she added, and treated her as if she was too. Left unspoken, but clearly obvious from her manner, was that she had found no other man who had ever been up to those standards, not even close. As cute as she was, she was still human and had her faults, but she knew her own mind and heart. 

I had known Jake from the day he reported in to the squadron out on Ford Island, back in January 1940. He was a singular kind of guy. Friendly and open, he could chat about most anything and was very knowledgeable, yet he did not talk about shallow or pointless things. His mind was always working, and it showed, both socially and on the job. All the chiefs thought him to be one of their very best radiomen. He got many of the plum assignments, and not because he was a goody-two-shoes, but because he was alert, professional, learned quickly, and worked hard. 

I my mind, they were two peas in a pod; Jake and his Kit, meant just for each other. Let me tell you a few of their experiences together. 

"Why do you stay with them?" 

It was much quieter on the verandah in the cooler evening air under the palm trees. They had left the smoke filled Waikiki lounge where they had been sitting with the others, only the second time they had been together. He had invited her for a walk outside, and now they sat together at the little table with their fruit juice, neither sure what to say to the other. 




The Tribute of Tender Hearts



"You're not happy with them... and you're not at all like them. Why do you stay?" 

His questions seemed very pointed, she thought, yet not unkind. In fact, she had been wondering herself, though she could not have phrased it quite so directly. His question made her a little uneasy mostly because she liked him, and in the group's association, it was only his conversation that interested her at all. The other three sailors were boisterous and colorful, but rather loud and arrogant, and even a little crude... well, in her evaluation, a lot crude. She knew, for instance, from Red's comments in their apartment, that Dean very much wanted to "get into her pants," as she said, and was thinking that would be really fun and that she might let him. Katharine didn't understand a girl being so offhand about something that was to her special and much more private. 

Why did she stay with them? It was a question she had been asking herself. 

"Money, I guess," she responded, trying to be casual. "We all chip in to make the rent less; and then I don't really know anybody else on the island." That was about as much sense as she could make of her own indecision. At that point, they had been in Honolulu for about four weeks, and this was only the second time the four of them had met up with the four sailors from Pearl Harbor. 

The experience of simply striking off on her own, breaking with the past, was not unknown, but she was still rebuilding her own self confidence after the major break away from her family. Finding her way now was still very much a pioneering effort and leaving the three other girls seemed not very practical. 

Jake Nielsen was, in relation to the other three fellows, not unlike Katharine. He did not feel he belonged with the other three, who were both in their career path in the Navy as well as in their personal inclinations very much different. They were all shipboard sailors; Zeke Matthews was a real heller on liberty and a very savvy boatswains mate on his destroyer; Willie "Guns" Martin, a hard drinking, sleek-talking, self-styled ladies man, was a gunners mate on a battleship, then, lastly, Dean "Screws" Hubbard was a machinist mate, a real whiz mechanically and a diesel engine specialist on another battlewagon. In striking contrast, Jake was a radioman with an aircrew specialist rating in the navy's big patrol flying boats. Most striking to Katharine, and she picked this out easily, though the four girls had little more that a couple hours association with the four sailors, was that he spoke like a rational human being, discussed things with her, listened to her responses and ideas. He had a year's university work behind him and wanted more, and he was the only one of the four that did not make her feel a little uneasy. He was something like her older brother, kind and gentle. The hurtful image of the Mexican girl kept getting in the way, and she didn't know how to deal with that. Just the same, Jake Nielsen was a friendly personality and she kind of liked him, a little. 

And now she wasn't at all sure where the conversation would take them. 

"Sure, money is part of it. Apartments are expensive." To himself, he was thinking of options for her that might be helpful. He knew Ken Waterman's girl had an apartment in Pearl City and was looking for a roommate for just that reason. He better ask Ken about that before saying anything to her. He'd met Kelani a couple of times, and the idea seemed practical to him. "There are other possibilities out there, though." 

When it occurred to him that she might understand that comment as suggestive, he was afraid to look up at her. What could he say now? "There are some people at the air station that are up on such things. I'll check and let you know." That sounded inoffensive enough, he hoped, and smiled at her. 

She wasn't sure what to say at first, and then just settled on "OK." That sounded neutral enough not to get her into hot water. 

"Air station?" The fellows used so many terms and words that were new to her, it was almost as if they somehow spoke a different language. In the calmer evening quiet on the verandah she asked, almost without thinking, about what he meant. 

He looked up at her, hearing not just her question but also her simple inquiry into a world foreign to her. Without being able to judge it fully, he thought she was unwinding a little with him. "The naval air station on Ford Island is where the Fleet's aircraft base, both the planes from the carriers, the aircraft carriers when they're in port, but also the big flying boats. I was assigned to a flying boat squadron and flew as a radioman in the crew, but now I am rotating into a slot at the radio station ashore for a couple of months. The other guys are in the ships in the harbor. They go to sea but don't fly... I fly sometimes but don't go to sea." He chuckled at the arbitrariness of it. "Same navy." 

He thought her immeasurably beautiful in the brief twilight at sunset and the lighted tiki torches around the verandah. Her facial features were delicate and expressive, her eyes full of character, and her long hair flowing down over her shoulders. He could sense that she held herself in a very tight control, and in the fast-paced banter with the others around the table earlier, she had seemed a little lost. She hadn't spoken but a couple of words of greeting. 

They both felt like they were only on the shirttails of the others. From the beginning, way back a week ago, it had seemed to all that the eight of them would come and go together, and wherever. Now, very much on a whim this evening, Jake had invited her to go for a walk with him, away from the others. The laughter and merriment in the dark, smoky lounge had receded as he drew her across the verandah to the little table. He had noticed that she had been hesitant to order at first, but when he ordered a juice on ice, she had said she would like one of those too. 

It pleased her that he didn't drink liquor, and she had noticed. In her mind, liquor seemed always to lead to dangerous situations. 

Their casual talk to get acquainted drew them onward, and they left their empty glasses on the table. She was a little hesitant as he led her down the path between the palms, along the beach for a stretch, and out onto the little pier for the boats in the marina. 

He just walked, not hurried and not evidently going anywhere, she didn't think, but just walking. They couldn't go very far, she could see that it was not a long pier. She was about to question him when he suggested they sit for a moment on the little bench at the end of the pier. His voice was quite and not demanding. She felt not threatened at all, and even a little excited at the solitude and pleasant evening. She sat down on the edge of the bench, unsure what to do. 

"I come out here sometimes to just watch the sunset. It's quite impressive." The sun had been down for several minutes and the last streaks of color in the sky were fading, and he felt his comment would sound a little phony. 

"I've never brought a girl out here with me." How lame, he chastised himself. 

She thought his statement sounded sweet and kind, and made her feel special. She had no idea what to do, or what he might expect of her now. She waited to see, on the edge of the bench, a little anxious and with her hands folded in her lap. 

"I would like it if we could get together without the others... just do something together on our own." He was trying to be more open with her, but words came slowly and he was not sure himself what he wanted. He liked her, liked her very much, but what could he do now? She was acting like a skittish colt, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation, he could feel it. 

"Well, for one, at the Rialto in Pearl City," oh, yes, he thought to himself, a splendid idea, "they're playing Gone with the Wind, the hit movie. Have you seen it? Everyone says it's great. Have you?" 

Katharine had been to the movie show just five times in her entire life. Once on the ship with the girls, and four back home, either with her brothers or with her school class... never, she realized, alone with a man. Suddenly she saw it clearly. Jake was neither one of her brothers nor one of the boys back in school. He was a man, several years older than she was, and, she was quite sure, very much more experienced in things. The sight of that Mexican girl coming out of the office that day flashed through her mind again. Why? Was she afraid of Jake? Is that what he wanted too? Could she trust him? She wasn't sure. 

But, no, she hadn't seen the movie and, when he looked at her in the soft light, she shook her head. 

She didn't know why he should be so quiet, because he sat there without a word for what seemed to her like the longest time. 

"The number 5 bus stops in front of the library near your place. We could meet there and take the 5 to Pearl City. It stops just a block from the theater. There is a very nice little Chinese restaurant near there where I go by myself sometimes for a nice meal in a quiet place. Do you like Chinese food, Katharine? 

She felt herself on very thin ice; afraid both to go forward and then, afraid not to. She'd never had Chinese food before, though she knew they had served it one evening on the ship. She had been timid and there had been so many new things that she had just avoided it for the refuge of their room. Now what should she do? 

"And afterward I'll bring you back home again. Would that be OK?" 

That he would ask her so gently helped her a great deal. She couldn't seem to find her voice at all. She had wanted to see that movie since forever, and the chance to be together like that now began to be something exciting and delightful to her. And how would Chinese food taste? 

"That would be wonderful, Jake. Thank you very much." Katharine was by inclination a polite girl and as the excitement took over her hesitation dissolved. 

"What about Friday evening? Meet me at 5 o'clock?" His voice was very much lightened by her acceptance. 

She too felt the easing of the tension, and therewith, her curiosity began to rise. "Chinese food? I've never had Chinese food, Jake. Tell me something, please," in her excitement she forgot to be shy, "about what I should expect." 

Done! She had said yes, he thought to himself. He leaned against the back of the bench and sighed, a great sigh of satisfaction that he had been able to arrange such a date with this beautiful girl. Why that should be so very difficult seemed to trouble him. He was not usually so completely tongue-tied. He was thinking about Chinese food now, trying to find something suave and intelligent to say to her. 

He managed a couple of details about vegetables and spicy sauces and noodles, and she smiled at him in response. 

He wasn't pushy or arrogant, and that helped her feel at ease. What he said about the food made it sound exotic and delicious. She did not realize that his reserve with her softened her trepidation. 

With that simple step it seemed as if the dam burst. Conversation hindered by anxiety was deregulated, and the next hour passed quickly as they exchanged a hodgepodge of introductory fragments about first one then the other... home, work, school, interests, family, friends, hobbies, and whatever. Almost without warning the chatter concluded and silence reigned again. He thought about the evening and what all had transpired and realized then belatedly that they had left the others before they themselves had ordered dinner and eaten. 

"Katharine," he turned to her, concerned, "we didn't really have dinner before. Are you hungry?" 

Virtually as he spoke she felt the emptiness in her tummy and, relaxed and pleased to be with him now, nodded her head innocently and smiled at him. 

"My dear young lady," he tried to make his tone playfully formal, "would you join me for a pleasant seafood dinner on the verandah?" He presumed correctly that he would get another sweet smile and nod. Their course decided, he stood and offered his hand to help her rise, then his arm for hers. 

The resulting bodily contact was like an earthquake. She stepped to his side and slipped her arm through his, and her motion swept the bare mass of his muscled right bicep past her left breast. The bolt of electricity shocked both of them. 

She could not help but gasp and she knew he noticed, and felt herself rendered almost senseless and embarrassed in his embrace. It felt as were her knees about to buckle beneath her. Jake slipped his right arm about her waist and held her to him, feeling his own body reacting to the intensity of their physical contact. Her head on his shoulder hid from him her deep blush, and for the first time in her life Katharine felt the sensory thrill of a man's thoughtful and gentle embrace. 

He was so very conscious of his own heart pounding in his chest at the thrill of holding her, he could not have had more than cursory awareness of her reaction to him. After a few moments, wanting not to embarrass her in the least, he kissed her on the top of her head lightly, enjoying the delicate fragrance of her hair, stroked her shoulder appreciatively, and then turned them once again toward dinner. 

Jake walked slowly, casually, as if he had not a care in the world. That was fine with Katharine, though she did not really notice. She just hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder, oblivious to all else. Shyness and reserve overcome for the moment, she basked in the afterglow of the moment and the company of the man who treated her so nicely. 

The others were gone, and that was fine with him. He led her to another place along the beachfront, and an outside table by a tiki torch. He suggested grilled Mahi Mahi, and she agreed, trusting his judgment, though she had no idea whatever as to what he had ordered for them. She found the fish delectable and exotic, thanked him sweetly for his choice, and then they found they could laugh together. 

She thought his silly jokes clever, and listened to his deep voice. He told her he liked her beautiful hair, long and glistening in the ribbon she wore, and that she had the most expressive and pretty eyes he had ever seen. 

These experiences added substantially to her quite limited fund of knowledge about men. His company delighted her. 

It was late when he said good night to her at her door. The evening had been more fun, she thought to herself, than any before, ever. On the sofa, one of the other girls was deeply involved with one of the fellows. It was Red maybe, she thought, and she left the light off and disappeared into the bedroom she shared with Tony. She thought again of the first question he had asked her that evening, then felt the tingle in her entire being at his invitation to go with him to the movie, and then welcomed the slumber that came after a time. 

• 

So, that's the background and the lead up to the point where I started with Katharine's crying out her hurt in his arms. They had enjoyed their date, the movie and the dinner went very well, and some two weeks had passed and a lot of changes had been made. 

Caroline and I, together with Ken and Kelani and Jake and Katherine, had enjoyed a date and a movie together and our friendship seemed destined for good things. The three of the girls struck up a friendship with their very first words. Kelani asked Katharine to move in with her, and within days Katherine had even found a new job at the Pearl City branch library working the evening shift five days a week. Jake and I both had the evening watch, and, delighted with her new place, Katherine had invited him over for lunch. 

For her to invite him to her new apartment was a significant step for her. His company comforted and calmed her, even as it excited her. He was kind and easy going, always a gentleman, and she enjoyed their talks. She was beginning to sense deep inside that she was very lonely and even a little frightened at being so on her own in the world. His way with her was a constant reassurance, and she felt strengthened by his company. 

When he came he brought a fresh pineapple and a quart of papaya juice. Wonderful, she thought. Then he worked with her in the little kitchenette on lunch and then cleaning up. He presented her with the image of a man altogether outside her experience, and one that stirred up little fires of excitement deep inside her that were new and thrilling, and, she thought, just a little scary. 

His earlier comment about her breasts had surprised her, but she had not felt threatened at all. The memory of that moment remained for her. He had been very sweet in his expression, and when she thanked him, she wasn't sure what else she could say. It felt nice that he would just pull her down again into his arms. 

Holding her, he could not help the irresistible urge to kiss her. So, wanting to be a gentleman, he asked her. 

Since no boy had ever kissed her, and only if she tried hard could she remember her father's casual peck on her cheek, she correctly thought herself to be on the brink of something earthshaking and, her breathing already uncertain, looked up into his grey eyes and nodded. 

She was. 

He wanted not to hurry this at all. She was, he felt, way too beautiful to hurry a kiss... their first kiss. 

His finger touched her eyebrow and lightly swept some of her long hair from her face, and she felt in his tender touch each millimeter of his progress over her cheek to her ear and then down to the nape of her neck. He seemed to pause there, and then she figured out that he was playing in her hair. A thousand sensations assaulted her emotions and she felt herself in massive emotional overload and unsure of what to do, knowing she had no idea how to return his kiss, and wanting now more than anything not to disappoint him. She waited, patiently, half terrified he would continue, half that he would not, and fighting a fear that she could not identify. 

His strong hand behind her head soothed her somehow, and when he gently pulled her close she felt his warm mouth on hers, tender, light, inviting, caressing... stirring the very depths of her being, and drawing her out of herself to him. She had no way of knowing the difference, but it was no boy's mouth; it was a man's mouth, powerful, provocative, plundering. The wonder of the new experience quickly swelled within her, spilling over easily to wash away all fear of him, and he emerged in her imagination as the man of her dreams to whom she could give herself totally and without the slightest reservation. 

The swirling, mind-boggling experience of his hot kiss forced all else from her awareness and she melted in his embrace, as submissive, pliant and trusting as any maid could possibly be. Time for breathing seemed an unacceptable interruption to their passion, wondering as he gave her a moment to catch a breath if she had done something wrong and why was he stopping? 

"Oh, Katharine," she heard his strong voice and felt it vibrating deep in his chest, "you are a very special girl. Thank you for a very special kiss." 

Only one, she thought? Was he going to stop now? He continued to hold her close, and being in his embrace was like heaven to her. She watched his mouth move closer to hers again and then felt the tingle inside her as he nibbled on her lip, then, as she opened to him, he claimed her mouth again with a demanding pressure that catapulted her into richly romantic realms of which heretofore she had had not the faintest concept. 

The entire external universe slipped away to irrelevance and they explored the little world they had created between them. 

He had suspected from watching her that she was not just a virgin, but had very little or no experience with a man, and these were qualities that, together with her striking physical beauty, rated her exceedingly high on his own personal scale of values.  




The Tribute of Tender Hearts



"You are a very special person to me, Katharine. In my book, a special person... a special girl, one very close to my heart, who returns my kiss with such tenderness and feeling, deserves a special name. Can I call you 'Kit?' You look and feel in my arms like that ought to be my secret name for you." 

He had not ever done such a thing with a girl, and felt like he was way out on a limb. He waited for her response, not at all sure what she would say, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of the world, but the feel of her thick and fragrant hair between his fingers was simply intoxicating. 

Even an innocent and unskilled girl can, when her heart is tender and open, sense great shifts in the geometry of the world about her. Her feelings of being alone in the world were already receding as her friendship with Jake grew stronger, but this little gesture, following as it did the fervency and heat of his several kisses, made it clear to her that he was drawing her into his orbit and wanted her company and companionship. Their kissing had caused a throbbing and a tingle throughout her entire body, and having him give her a pet name was the most wonderful and unexpected thing... this man, this man whom she thought so gallant and mature, that this man should be the one to notice her so was more thrill than any girl could endure. 

As he watched for her reaction, hoping beyond hope that she might agree to a date together, he saw the bright twinkle in her eyes, the fresh roses in her cheeks, then her sweet smile for him as she nodded her head. 

He felt firstly the majesty of victory over his own reticence to risk his heart in the quest for companionship, then the closely associated magnificence of the girl's acceptance of his tentative overture. Then, on the heels of that amalgam, that something had to be determined to draw them closer together; he felt feelings of desire and hope emerging from deep within him. He felt territorial; he wanted that no other fellow should be allowed to savor this sweet girl's charms. He wanted her just for himself.  

They had consumed the better part of the afternoon, and it was time to go to work. He kissed her again at her doorway, promising to come again in a few days when his work schedule again allowed him a free day. "Thank you, Kit! You are a delight to my heart!" 

He left her tingling all over and her heart sailing in the clouds. 

• 

He just barley caught the bus going down the hill to the boat landing, otherwise he would have had a half hour wait and been late to work. Once through the Naval Supply Center gate he could see the launch at the pier waiting for them. He would make it fine. That question resolved, his thoughts immediately returned to her. 

She was beautiful, he thought, and very shy with him, but he could feel her draw close to him even so. Without the other three, and the much more frivolous and party atmosphere all the time, she had relaxed to be an attentive companion and an interesting conversationalist. Besides that, she was beginning to show herself to be a passionate girl as well. She had been afraid when he first kissed her, that he could tell easily. Very soon, as he kissed her the second time, more demanding and purposeful, she had begun to make that cute little whimpering sound in her throat. That sounded so very sweet to him. Delightful! He felt a satisfied smile break across his face as he alighted from the bus and made for the launch. 

There were about a dozen other fellows headed for the boat as well, all probably watch standers for the evening watch, 4 PM till midnight. Jake knew some of them, the two radiomen well, but they were from another squadron, and three others were machinist mate petty officers, maintenance and repair crew probably. They were all returning from time on the beach to their various duty stations; their minds were still on the beach, even if they bodies were in the boat. It was only about half full and, sitting apart from the others, his mind continued to focus on her. 

It felt so very nice to be with her. Being together was a thrill like he had never known before. He had kissed her for the first time that afternoon. He had planned that, wanted that, worked toward that... but the actual event was a surprise and moreover, surprising in its wonder and intensity. 

For Kit, the afternoon in the apartment with Jake had been earthshaking. She no longer thought of herself entirely as Katharine; the idea of Jake giving her a nickname, a secret name for her as his darling was more thrill than her being seemed able to absorb; she was ecstatic. 

That was a Monday afternoon, and she too had to think now about getting ready to go to work, but not before considering when he would come again. His watch schedule, he had told her, would mean he would come again Thursday for lunch at noon. 

How to dress and do her hair seemed very important to her, and her feeling of loneliness seemed to have fled. 

For Jake it was not all that much different, and it was that evening that we talked... well, he talked... about her, the girl who had turned his life upside down. We were sitting on the seawall in our dungarees, the Pacific Fleet's battleships right in front of us and the lights of the shipyard across the water. He talked about her... her beauty, her sweetness, the wonder of talking with her about all kinds of things, their lunch together, and... it took him a long time to tell me that he had kissed her that afternoon, and, when he did, it was as were he describing some kind of sacred ritual. 

He was already in love with her. 

• 

It was lunch time the following Thursday. 

The time before he arrived passed all too slowly, and their time together was an absolute delight. He brought two ripe mangoes for desert and, she thought, she had never tasted anything so wondrously delicious. They chatted some about things they had studied in school, and then, of course, he kissed her again, just as she hoped he would. 

Never in her life had the clock seemed so very much like an enemy. Their afternoon had passed swiftly, if in a haze. When he decided they simply had to move on and only a few precious minutes remained, he lifted her gently, thanked her again for lunch, their time together, for her gift of self to him. Each word from his lips was like a love-bearing breath of acceptance in the springtime of her life, and she could not manage anything but an adoring smile of appreciation. Then he kissed her on the tip of her nose and slipped out the door to catch his bus. 

She leaned her back against the door after she had closed it, dreamy and lost in her highly aroused emotional state. It was wonderful to be with him, and he said he wanted her to be his girl and not go out with other guys. He found her beautiful, he had said, and her breasts were not too big. He had said so. He had said they were perfect for her figure, and that she was beautiful... she could hardly believe now that she had found answer to her concern, and that he was so pleased with her. 

That was the first time she had ever felt confident that she was pretty. She was now pleased with her body and herself because he was pleased. Yes, a gift, she thought. He had called her a gift to him, and thanked her for her gift of self, he had said. Her feelings tumbled over one another as she tried to sort out all that had happened to them that afternoon. 

What needed no sorting or analysis was that she was supremely happy, and she knew why. Jake thought she was pretty and wanted her as his girl... and, she decided, his girl she would be! 

• 

Finally, after a long wait the telephone company had installed service to their apartment. She called his office where she could leave a message for him, just as he asked. He was so clever, she thought. Jake had worked out a simple code so she could leave her phone number for him and nobody else would recognize it as such. Still, it caught her entirely off guard when the ring shattered the late evening's quite just minutes after she got home. 

"Hello?" 

"Good evening, my little kitten." 

"Oh, Jake, thank you for calling." 

"How did work go for you this evening?" 

"Just fine. I just got home a few minutes ago. I like my job, actually. It's always interesting, and getting to help people is a nice benefit." 

"Would you help me a little?" 

Help him? How could she possibly help him late in the evening when he could not be there with her? But, she felt it inside herself, she wanted to help him. "What can I do, Jake?" 

There was a long silence on the other end, and she wondered what he was thinking. 

"Come, Kit. Come and climb up on my lap and snuggle into my arms and purr for me." 

His voice sounded deep and masculine, and the memory of his fingertips on her face, her throat, his soft, warm kisses, his holding her so gently soothed away the weariness of the day. 

"Sweet dreams, my Kit." 

• 

In October 1941 we all made some earth shattering decisions. Without any real coordination, Ken asked Kelani, Jake proposed to Katherine, and I asked Caroline to be my wife. Jake was just back from a short deployment to Wake Island and I was on the slate for a jaunt down to Johnson. Nevertheless, we were as determined as the three musketeers, and on the third Saturday of October the station chaplain married us in a triple ceremony in the station chapel. 

Absolutely marvelous. 

Besides that, two apartments in Kelani's building had become available. Caroline and I took one, Jake and Katherine the other. We could not have been happier, and we three fellows felt ten feet tall, absolutely bulletproof, and on top of the world. 

None of the three of us were really ones to talk about our girls. Jake spoke more about Kit that night on the seawall than he ever did later. It was just sort of off limits all around; something special each of us kept to ourselves. Little snippets do get out, just the same. It was months later on the sofa with Caroline, and Katherine recalled one evening from that period. She finished at the library about 10:30 and got home about twenty minutes later. Jake (and I) had the evening radio watch until midnight, and got home about a quarter till 1. He found her asleep on the sofa, waiting for him, and she dreamed about him loving her as he let his fingers play in her curls behind her ear where she had admitted to being so very sensitive. She told us how excited she was that night to wake up and find him there with her, and then she blushed and wouldn't say anything more. 

• 

A fool's paradise, perhaps. 

Well, not really. Life has to be lived one day at a time in many ways, and days of joy and togetherness accepted as they come even though the future schedule is indistinct. 

November was wonderful. 

December was tragedy of the first magnitude, and more would follow. The attack that Sunday morning was an unthinkably horrible experience. 

Over the months the three of us, I and Jake and Ken, had deployed with our squadrons to various places for patrols; Wake Island, Midway Island, sometimes down to Johnson Island. War in the Pacific brought changes all around. Ken's squadron was ordered to Australia and the Netherlands East Indies in mid-December, and right after the New Year they were gone. The squadron threw a big party before leaving, but Ken and Kelani just wanted to be with us that evening, and the six of us took over the garden out back and cooked some fresh fish and sweet potatoes on the grating over the fire and just chattered away among ourselves a while, and then Ken took Kelani's hand and led her away quietly to their apartment. 

That was our goodbye to him. 

The telegram came just two months later. His PBY had been shot down someplace in the East Indies, and all the crew had been lost. 

We cooked out again that evening in March, to try and sooth the moment for her. Kelani was just nineteen and one of the sweetest girls I had ever known. She was numb, didn't eat hardly anything, and then broke down in sobs again in the garden. Caroline and Katherine went ahead of me, and Jake picked her up and carried her to her bed, and the three girls stayed together that night to try and console her a little. 

The following week, two other girls moved into the fourth apartment together. They were both wives of sailors in VB 5, the dive bomber squadron on the aircraft carrier YORKTOWN. That made for a little excitement around the place, but Kelani recovered very slowly from her loss. She was not a superficial person by any means. 

In mid May, the tempo of operations on Ford Island, already at a fever pitch, somehow became even more intense. My plane made a two week deployment to augment patrols from Midway, so I was gone for a while, but back about the 29th. When I got back Jake met me on the seaplane ramp. There was a cook-out that night and the girls were all excited... and he was leaving the day after next in his PBY for Midway for operations like mine. In addition, YORKTOWN was in port briefly for repairs, and the neighbors were invited too. 

It was a great evening. The two fellows from the carrier were both back seat radiomen/gunners in dive bombers, and they had been in on the sinking of a Jap carrier in the Coral Sea battle down south, and were all full of enthusiasm. Everything seemed very upbeat and positive. The fish was great, Kelani seemed to brighten a little, and Katherine and Caroline were each joyous and exuberant, and all the girls were beautiful beyond imagining. 

The festivities lasted into the evening, but not too late. Kelani valiantly volunteered to clean up, but Katherine and Caroline would not hear of it, knowing that to leave her alone then would be emotional disaster, so we all chipped in. Jake was leaving soon, so I told him to take Kit and get away, and he did. 

That was really the last of the fun times together. 

The Battle of Midway was fought between 3 and 6 June. A more fierce and bloody few days' battle I could not imagine. On watch in radio at Ford Island, I saw many of the reports coming through from the garrison on the island. The Marines took a fearful beating, at sea YORKTOWN was sunk, VB 5 and several other air squadrons decimated. Torpedo EIGHT in carrier HORNET was wiped out... 15 for 15 shot down over the target. Jake's plane was one of the several PBYs that did not return from their long and very dangerous patrols. Little consolation that our boys sank four Japanese carriers and the battle turned out a decisive victory for the United States. In our little fourplex on the hill over Pearl City, the battle had exacted a fearful toll. 

For some days nobody knew anything. Our guys were scattered far and wide, and the remaining PBYs at Midway out searching for survivors. They found several, even after seven or eight days; but not the two follows from VB 5, and not anyone from Jake's crew. 

I was not sure how to handle the information I had. I talked to Caroline one night after dinner, distraught and frustrated at what I could see was coming. I pledged her to silence, even though I knew she and Katherine were practically like sisters and told each other everything. I told her there was still hope that one of the PBYs might find Jake. I think she knew that my confidence level was low, but she hung on. That was my Caroline. 

On the evening of the 11th the news began to appear on the radio, and that day the first of the wounded arrived at the naval hospital, and rumors as to who had survived and not survived circulated like wildfire. All the wives were, of course, frantic with worry. The chaplain from the station arrived about 7:30 the next evening for the two girls in VB 5 with the news of their husbands. Caroline and Katherine went down to visit and found them in shock and too distraught for tears. 

Two days later he was back and came to me first, since he and I had talked earlier, and together we went to Katherine's door. She knew the moment she opened it, and broke down in tears. Caroline and I spent the night with her. Until the early morning hours I was on the sofa with her in my arms and Caroline curled up at my side. 

It was about 1 AM when she told us. Her throat was raw and her sobbing had drained her, but she found the strength from somewhere to tell us. She and Jake had known for about a week before he left. They were expecting a baby. She smiled in the dimly lit room, and seemed to recover a little. She and Caroline hugged and my wife asked me to carry her to her bedroom. The two girls stayed the night together and slept in late the next day. 

The two girls in apartment #3 left that fall for the mainland and their families there. Kelani, too, had left for her family on the Big Island, so there were just two of us left... well, one and a half. 

By early August Katherine was glowing with the beauty of a young girl carrying her husband's baby. One evening about then Caroline curled up next to me in the darkness and confided to me tenderly that she wanted my baby. There were a lot of words and thoughts left unsaid... but her eyes and her caress and her whimpers were full of love and hope and fear and wanting me never to leave her alone, and giving her a baby would help her keep me close. 

By October the two mothers-to-be were both glowing and radiant, and enjoying the experience and their deep friendship for each other. Only one of them, however, had her husband close at hand. 

Caroline was very conscious of her friend's loss, and willingly shared me with her sister. Kit was frequently at our place at Caroline's invitation. They sewed together, and almost always went shopping together. Caroline's more slender figure was a thrill to me beyond measure, even as the baby began to show, but Katharine's ever-prominent top hamper was always spectacularly beautiful. We would go out to dinner together, the three of us, and to movies, and other things. I knew where the boundaries were, and Caroline never questioned me. I often hugged them both and we would dance, and go for walks on the beach, and snuggle on the sofa and play board games together, but I knew that, even with many long and intimate conversations with Katherine, she herself had drawn a line. She was a one-man-woman, and it seemed only a technicality that he was not coming home... she kept him alive in her heart just the same. She was a remarkably steady and faithful girl in that regard; I was proud of her. 

In early 1943 I was a father, twice over it seemed. The two little girls were born not quite three months apart. The two mothers supported each other with great kindness and affection, and both leaned on my shoulder. Still, when my squadron deployed in September for the South Pacific, Caroline was anxious and fearful, but just as brave and loyal as Kit had been that previous year. 

• 

That's been now several years ago. After the war I was transferred to the naval air station at Sand Point in Seattle. We found a duplex not far away, and now the two girls are in high school. Neither of their mothers seems to have aged much at all. They are remarkable women and an honor to the men they married. Once at a school event for the kids some fellow tried to put the make on Katherine. Caroline alerted me to what was happening and I was watchful. Katherine handled it just fine. Her magnificent top hamper was ever a draw, but she always dressed modestly. Some things, of course, a beautiful woman simply can not hide. She was pleasant and gracious, but he got the message. 

I wish Jake could see his Kit now. She has never thought of herself as a 'Navy wife,' but is pleased always to acknowledge that her husband served their country in the Navy. I took the two out to dinner at a nice place last week, and I saw it again. The young waitress asked her about the little eagle-and-three-chevrons pin on her dress, and asked if her husband was in the Navy, explaining that her fiancé was a sailor at Sand Point. 




The Tribute Pt. 01



His cock was liberating, it sliced through my being as I heard his balls smack against my ass. My eyes fluttered every time he withdrew only to feel the sweet sensation as he filled me up again.

In Sector C, sex is punishable by death. Every human born here is injected with a sensor, whereby increased sexuality activity sets it off effectively blowing up that individual's head!

How are humans born you may ask. Well that's what Sector's A and B are for. Sector A consists of the rich business folk who make their living gambling on our lives. Sector B otherwise know as the sleazy Sector, is where sex occurs 24/7. The although what makes me shudder is the thought that the reality over there might be worse than the stories!

Due to the over population in Sector B, babies such as myself are sent to Sector C, otherwise known as the garbage dump of the city. There's only one thing to do in Sector C and that is to survive on your own and if you're lucky and make it to 20, you will be entered into an annual gladiatorial battle, where it's either kill or be killed.

Hopefully that explains why sex is outlawed in Sector C, we basically are the pawns that Sector A gambles with, their hobby, their pass time, their invention. Sector B is used as the whoring district where "noble" men from Sector A go to sow their seeds unbeknownst to their loving wives, however it mainly consists of men and women who love to fuck.

So is this mysterious dick that is giving me such sweet pleasure? Well for one my head hasn't exploded, in that very moment the only thing I wanted to explode inside of me was this giant cock. I grunted with each thrust now, moaning into the tree, as he continued his assault on my pussy.

With a groan, he grabbed my hips tightly. I felt the wave of hot spunk inside of me, as he unloaded into the depths of my womb.

-2045-//Sector C//

I am 19 years old, death and ruin lay behind and ahead of me. I have survived this long by forming friendships and never staying too long in one place. Although Sector C is not that large it is full of criminals looking for the most prized possession of all... food!

Every week a food truck from Sector A arrives loaded with food that will only feed a third of us. Sector A had bets running on all of us, to see which of us would make it to 20. I often wondered who was betting on me, well whoever it was, I intended to make them very rich. I had no plans on dying any time soon.

I was walking down a cobbled street in near pitch darkness, the moon wasn't out tonight, yet the villains were.

"Hello, little lady," a voice behind me called.

"That's an awful amount of food you got there, mind sharing some?"

I turned to face my soon to be assailant, another teen who looked the same age as me. His eyes were bloodshot and from the looks of his body, it appeared as though he hadn't had a good meal in a while. I thought back to my knife, still lodged in the girl's throat that who I had acquired this wondrous bounty from.

"Just throw me the meat and I'll let you take your little bits and bobs," his voice wasn't pleading nor weak, he had a plan and I needed to come up with one myself, fast!

He came closer to me and stopped a few feet away from me. That's when I started running. I ran until I found an abandoned building and ran in there, I assumed that I could lose in the maze of offices. Unfortunately he was faster than me, as soon as I entered the building, he had grabbed my arms from behind. I dropped the food as he pulled me backwards towards him, his hands now leaving my arms to wrap around my neck.

I backed into him as he continued to strangle me from behind, his hands were big and I noticed there were places where I could punch or kick. As I completely backed into him, a plan came to mind.

I started grounding my ass against his crotch. He was surprised to say the least. He loosened his pressure on my neck and I took that opportunity to quickly turn around and push him back into a nearby vacant chair. I straddled sat on top of him, massaging my ass deeper into his now rapidly hardening dick.

"urgh, oh, ah," was all he could manage.

I increased my speed, my ass aiding me in my rescue. He cock now erect felt electric as it briefly brushed against my pussy. Yet I put the thought out my mind as I resumed taking this guy over the edge...

...I dove just in time as his head (dick) burst. Chucks of brain went flying everywhere, as a noticeable damp spot permeated his crotch.

I picked up my bag of food and putting the thought of his cock out of my head, headed home to be with my friends.

To Be Continued.



The Tribute



"There you go. Now we are ready to go and proclaim your new office." He buckled his belt around his waist and opened the door, stepping out into the hall, followed by Brida. The two of them made their way back down the stairs into what was now his main hall. Hjartan moved over to his chair and gestured Brida to his side as he looked around the hall, spotting a very uncomfortable Osbert involved in a game of dice with a few of his men. He spotted the guards from Bebbanburg standing nearby and waved them forward with a cheery smile. Reluctantly the two men approached the dais and stopped. He gestured for the two of them to stand near Brida. "Wait there and you will see what youre duty to Bebbanburg is."

Osbert saw the two guards move to stand beside Brida and rose, walking towards the dais, a smile on his face. "Am I to assume from this that Bebbanburg's tribute to Eoferwic is acceptable?"

Hjartan frowned at Osbert and gestured the man forward. "Yes, Bebbanburg's tribute to Eoferwic is acceptable." He paused as Osbert stepped close, one large sword-calloused hand flashing out and wrapping around the medallion with Bebbanburg's wolf's head seal, to show their descent from the god Woden, on it. With one swift jerk he pulled it from around Osbert's neck and looked at it. He then stood up and turned to Brida, taking the medallion and hanging it around her neck. He looked at her and nodded. "Bebbanburg's tribute is satisfactory and since the Ealdorman of Bebbanburg has been found unfit to hold his position, I now declare Brida, his niece, Ealdorwoman of Bebbanburg under the ward and protection of Eoferwic until a man comes to marry her."

"But my lord Hjartan, you cannot just remove me as Ealdorman of Bebbanburg!" Osbert protested, taking a step forward. He looked at the guards standing beside Brida. "One of you bring me my medallion of office."

Hjartan looked at the two guards as well. "I saw that you did not care for the bowing and scraping that this snake was doing. Your new Ealdorwoman has acted with dignity and strength, as a leader should. Make your choice; do you support Brida, or Osbert as leader of Bebbanburg?" Osbert began to look smug as his two hand picked guards were asked who they would support.

His look turned to one of shocked outrage as both guards turned to Brida and bowed, speaking simultaneously, "Ealdorwoman, you have our full support." He began to sputter impotently as Brida reached out and touched the bowed heads of her first guards. As she did, they straightened up and moved to stand one on each side of her. Brida smiled a malicious smile as she turned her gaze to her uncle.

Osbert turned a frantic look to Hjartan. "Lord Hjartan, I request your sanctuary here in Eoferwic. Please, my Lord!"

Hjartan looked from Brida to her uncle. "As Lord of Eoferwic, I have refused your tricky tribute as an insult to me. As such, I am turning you over to the Ealdorwoman of Bebbanburg for justice." He nodded to Brida.

"Guards, take him." Brida said. The two guards stepped forward and none too gently grabbed his arms and forced them behind him. One of Hjartan's crew provided some shackles and in no time at all, Osbert was shackled hand and foot. Brida turned to Hjartan and bowed deeply. "Thank you, my Lord Hjartan. Bebbanburg thanks you for the service you've done this day and pledges to return the favor if Eoferwic should ever need it."

Hjartan nodded and smiled. "Thank you Lady Brida." He rose and walked over to where her dress still lay, picking it up and handing it to her. She took it but made no move to put it back on. He looked at two of his men. "Sven, Tyr, you two go with the Ealdorwoman and escort her and her prisoner back to Bebbanburg." The two men nodded and rose to go and prepare their travel packs and horses.

"Thank you again, my Lord. I must be returning to Bebbanburg to put this scoundrel on trial." She walked forward and kissed Hjartan's cheek softly, whispering softly so only he could hear, "I will always be your tribute for the taking my Lord, my Love," She stepped back and, as she walked past the chained Osbert, delivered an open handed slap that almost jerked him from the guards hands. She continued towards the door, the two guards half dragging Osbert between them.

Hjartan sat back down in his chair, smiling as the doors closed behind the Northumbrians. Around him in the hall, the sounds of the celebration resumed.