Jamila 7
"So girls," Shauzia says, "one reefer for the road, then we roll."
I don't have a choice, given one too. I puff fairly lightly.
My sleeve catches on something. My tattoos have vanished now. Strange dream. But now, I feel the reefer bigtime.
By the time we get to the plane, I'm so totally baked, I just curl up in a blanket, let Shauzia take charge. After all, what do I know of jeep parts for this century? Didn't own a car in Canada. Hydrocarbons are only found in history books in my world.
Vaguely through the drug-induced fog, I feel liftoff. After a time, I awake, raging hunger.
Bobogol grins, "our fearless leader has the marijuana munchies. Soon kiss goodbye to that matchstick little-girl look. Soon you'll look real."
"Thanks, I think."
Everyone laughs.
As I feel the plane's vibration and the cold drafts, I start to realize it ain't a dream. I'm onboard an obsolete cargo plane headed to the end of the earth with a dope-smoking rabble. And I love it. Just like the old days. Two differences. Dope here is lots stronger. It's women, not men, but the same sort as you'd find in the marines.
We sit over mugs of - what else - green tea. Shauzia fixes a hard look on me, "Jamila, you been hanging around the western world a few years, maybe forgotten our ways a bit. Maybe just used to the bullsh** in the west. Here, anything less than 100% honest with your friends, you're cruising for trouble. Bearing that in mind, perhaps you'd care to say why you chose to come back, leave that fat life."
Come back? News to me. Drily I reply, "it does defy logic."
Everyone laughs gently. "We're waiting."
"Yeah, looks fat, lotta money maybe. Try living alone in an apartment year after year. Try no friends at work because you're different. You are already on the ragged edge, just getting through your day, month, year. Only takes one tragedy to focus things. Try the death of a lover."
Shauzia wraps an arm protectively around me, "ok, nuff hard questions. Now an easy one. Rumor true? That whole lotta them was once your slaves in S&M?"
I smile, "Parvana's ass is so huge, makes a neat sound. Just could not get enough of that sound."
Everyone roars with laughter.
"And the others, just ordinary sound?"
"Yeah."
"So who was your fave in bed?"
"Sonali."
"Yeah, she would be, a panther."
"Tell us one funny story bout Sonali."
I give the one on her blackmailing me into shaving my legs. Howls of laughter.
With that, I seem to pass the exam, the scrutiny. Talk then wanders from price of dope (low) to redtape to their own woefully inadequate salary levels to the parlous state of the 2 jeeps chained in position.
After much wander, Shauzia just casually remarks, "you one of them officers who stands on ceremony? Self-important type? Or share with your friends?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"What do we have in mind?" she mimics my speech, "you are either forgetful or rude. How come you didn't offer to paddle the girls? Bored to death."
"Come on, on a plane?"
"Pilot and co-pilot won't mind. They're smoking up, so it's mutual blackmail. In fact I'll go ask."
She returns, "they don't give a da**. In fact, co-pilot wants to join in."
I smile, "form an orderly line."
"You kiss my ass. Nothing orderly around here. Our fave game, we roll the dice to see who gets the next stroke. Carries on til we're all tired out."
It sounds mechanical, a paddlethon on a plane, yet it proved to be the most erotic experience of my life so far. Why? Lotta reasons.
See I'm accustomed to vehicles which whisper, vibrate very little; so hydrocarbon vehicles are exciting to me. Throw in the dim cabin lights, moonlight on the water, hot sweaty labor of paddling cooled by drafts of a leaky old plane. Total nudity. Surreal surroundings, one is more susceptible to suggestion in unfamiliar circumstances.
Then the sexual excitement of the others. I soon see they ain't betting for money, but for me and the co-pilot. Bored to death with each other, want variety.
And me, I'm the height of variety. Two fantasies for the price of one: a white person and the sheer joy of pretending to rob the cradle.
Nilofar wins. Ear to ear grin, "you're mine for the rest of the flight."
Shauzia comes second, picks the co-pilot.
Arezou and Bobogol end up together.
Nilofar grins wickedly, "you will submit to me slave. Get that tongue in action."
A lotta factors coalesce into a criticial mass. Loneliness. Grief. Long time without. Remembering the kinkiness of submitting to the lady cop. And last but not least, the eroticism of the paddlethon.
I attack, with battlefield intensity, and (censored by the blog).
I'm dimly aware the others are all done and watching. Nilofar grabs me, holds me at armslength (she is much bigger), "now settle down Jamila, chill, my body can't take anymore."
Gradually my overdrive mood cools.
She smiles wickedly, "now let's see if you can take that," and comes at me with the same intensity.
Eventually we collapse in a heap.
Co-pilot drawls, "well now, ain't seen nothing to match that in years. Two tigers."
Shauzia smiles sadly, "yeah girls, panther is fair game when we roll the dice again. But looks to me like Jamila and Nilofar are an item."
Nilo smiles warmly, "just don't believe it. You're mine, end of story."
I snuggle closer to her.
Eventually we get up for tea.
Arezou grins, "Nilo, I guess maybe 2 weeks and you're dead from a heart attack. She's in lots better shape than you. Then she's up for grabs again."
Shauzia asks quietly, "begs a very obvious question. Nilo, was on the edge of medical damage, with those veins popping out, coulda blown one. Our little friend Jamila, just sweating and breathing a bit harder. So Jamila, care to comment?"
"Walk. Live alone forever, you walk a lot."
"How much?"
"Ten miles on Saturday, ten on Sunday. Work days, average 6 to 8."
"Ah I see, and Nilo drives the jeep 50 meters. Nilo, looks like you got your work cut out for you, keeping up with her."
All laugh.
"Funny one you are, " Shauzia says, "you look so sweet and gentle snuggled against Nilo. To look at you now, no one would believe what we just saw."
Bobogol laughs, "gwan with you sarge. What a very man-like thing to say. Everyone knows women have lots more contrast, more depth, more variety."
Shauzia opens her mouth to retort, then stops, says nothing, just chuckles.
Later Shauzia's hand on my shoulder wakes me, "come quick. Best if you see it all from the air."
"My goodness, they want a school down there. Insanity."
Shauzia grins, "why that is our friendly space alien's decision. Parvana the Portly."
"She's mad."
"Good we agree. Now let's go find a place to park the asylum."
"Is there something in the AAW constitution about impeaching a CO?"
Twisted smile, Shauzia replies, "you could impeach the Commander-in-Chief with the right vote. No provision to impeach a CO, that is the C-in-C's responsibility to deal with her."
"So what pray tell does the C-in-C think of this project?"
"She's all for it. See Parvana, well she had a sea change. Used to be goofy, nutty, a non-entity. Came back from leave like a stormtrooper, like a different person in her body. Parvana has lotsa clout in HQ and getting more. Only a question of time til the C-in-C retires and our space alien launches a coup to be next C-in-C."
I think of Norbert, seemed a laidback guy, except for his fight with the mil bureaucracy. But they say power corrupts.
Quietly Shauzia says, "we could screw up big, choose a Camp Misery of a place. Think HQ would give a sweet go**am? All we'd make miserable is 2,000 schoolgirls and 235 members."
This focuses me. I ain't working for Norbert anymore. Members, they are adults, old enough to look out for themselves. I'm now working for 2,000 innocent young girls who simply wish to get an education. So, we do our best for the girls.
See, it isn't pulling 2,000 girls out of school in Pak, just relocating them. No, it's additional capacity. 2,000 girls cooling their heels in refugee camps finally get a chance. And that is worth whatever it takes.
So maybe Norbert is using his power for good, not bad. Give him the benefit of the doubt, he's good until he shows otherwise.
I don't have a choice, given one too. I puff fairly lightly.
My sleeve catches on something. My tattoos have vanished now. Strange dream. But now, I feel the reefer bigtime.
By the time we get to the plane, I'm so totally baked, I just curl up in a blanket, let Shauzia take charge. After all, what do I know of jeep parts for this century? Didn't own a car in Canada. Hydrocarbons are only found in history books in my world.
Vaguely through the drug-induced fog, I feel liftoff. After a time, I awake, raging hunger.
Bobogol grins, "our fearless leader has the marijuana munchies. Soon kiss goodbye to that matchstick little-girl look. Soon you'll look real."
"Thanks, I think."
Everyone laughs.
As I feel the plane's vibration and the cold drafts, I start to realize it ain't a dream. I'm onboard an obsolete cargo plane headed to the end of the earth with a dope-smoking rabble. And I love it. Just like the old days. Two differences. Dope here is lots stronger. It's women, not men, but the same sort as you'd find in the marines.
We sit over mugs of - what else - green tea. Shauzia fixes a hard look on me, "Jamila, you been hanging around the western world a few years, maybe forgotten our ways a bit. Maybe just used to the bullsh** in the west. Here, anything less than 100% honest with your friends, you're cruising for trouble. Bearing that in mind, perhaps you'd care to say why you chose to come back, leave that fat life."
Come back? News to me. Drily I reply, "it does defy logic."
Everyone laughs gently. "We're waiting."
"Yeah, looks fat, lotta money maybe. Try living alone in an apartment year after year. Try no friends at work because you're different. You are already on the ragged edge, just getting through your day, month, year. Only takes one tragedy to focus things. Try the death of a lover."
Shauzia wraps an arm protectively around me, "ok, nuff hard questions. Now an easy one. Rumor true? That whole lotta them was once your slaves in S&M?"
I smile, "Parvana's ass is so huge, makes a neat sound. Just could not get enough of that sound."
Everyone roars with laughter.
"And the others, just ordinary sound?"
"Yeah."
"So who was your fave in bed?"
"Sonali."
"Yeah, she would be, a panther."
"Tell us one funny story bout Sonali."
I give the one on her blackmailing me into shaving my legs. Howls of laughter.
With that, I seem to pass the exam, the scrutiny. Talk then wanders from price of dope (low) to redtape to their own woefully inadequate salary levels to the parlous state of the 2 jeeps chained in position.
After much wander, Shauzia just casually remarks, "you one of them officers who stands on ceremony? Self-important type? Or share with your friends?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"What do we have in mind?" she mimics my speech, "you are either forgetful or rude. How come you didn't offer to paddle the girls? Bored to death."
"Come on, on a plane?"
"Pilot and co-pilot won't mind. They're smoking up, so it's mutual blackmail. In fact I'll go ask."
She returns, "they don't give a da**. In fact, co-pilot wants to join in."
I smile, "form an orderly line."
"You kiss my ass. Nothing orderly around here. Our fave game, we roll the dice to see who gets the next stroke. Carries on til we're all tired out."
It sounds mechanical, a paddlethon on a plane, yet it proved to be the most erotic experience of my life so far. Why? Lotta reasons.
See I'm accustomed to vehicles which whisper, vibrate very little; so hydrocarbon vehicles are exciting to me. Throw in the dim cabin lights, moonlight on the water, hot sweaty labor of paddling cooled by drafts of a leaky old plane. Total nudity. Surreal surroundings, one is more susceptible to suggestion in unfamiliar circumstances.
Then the sexual excitement of the others. I soon see they ain't betting for money, but for me and the co-pilot. Bored to death with each other, want variety.
And me, I'm the height of variety. Two fantasies for the price of one: a white person and the sheer joy of pretending to rob the cradle.
Nilofar wins. Ear to ear grin, "you're mine for the rest of the flight."
Shauzia comes second, picks the co-pilot.
Arezou and Bobogol end up together.
Nilofar grins wickedly, "you will submit to me slave. Get that tongue in action."
A lotta factors coalesce into a criticial mass. Loneliness. Grief. Long time without. Remembering the kinkiness of submitting to the lady cop. And last but not least, the eroticism of the paddlethon.
I attack, with battlefield intensity, and (censored by the blog).
I'm dimly aware the others are all done and watching. Nilofar grabs me, holds me at armslength (she is much bigger), "now settle down Jamila, chill, my body can't take anymore."
Gradually my overdrive mood cools.
She smiles wickedly, "now let's see if you can take that," and comes at me with the same intensity.
Eventually we collapse in a heap.
Co-pilot drawls, "well now, ain't seen nothing to match that in years. Two tigers."
Shauzia smiles sadly, "yeah girls, panther is fair game when we roll the dice again. But looks to me like Jamila and Nilofar are an item."
Nilo smiles warmly, "just don't believe it. You're mine, end of story."
I snuggle closer to her.
Eventually we get up for tea.
Arezou grins, "Nilo, I guess maybe 2 weeks and you're dead from a heart attack. She's in lots better shape than you. Then she's up for grabs again."
Shauzia asks quietly, "begs a very obvious question. Nilo, was on the edge of medical damage, with those veins popping out, coulda blown one. Our little friend Jamila, just sweating and breathing a bit harder. So Jamila, care to comment?"
"Walk. Live alone forever, you walk a lot."
"How much?"
"Ten miles on Saturday, ten on Sunday. Work days, average 6 to 8."
"Ah I see, and Nilo drives the jeep 50 meters. Nilo, looks like you got your work cut out for you, keeping up with her."
All laugh.
"Funny one you are, " Shauzia says, "you look so sweet and gentle snuggled against Nilo. To look at you now, no one would believe what we just saw."
Bobogol laughs, "gwan with you sarge. What a very man-like thing to say. Everyone knows women have lots more contrast, more depth, more variety."
Shauzia opens her mouth to retort, then stops, says nothing, just chuckles.
Later Shauzia's hand on my shoulder wakes me, "come quick. Best if you see it all from the air."
"My goodness, they want a school down there. Insanity."
Shauzia grins, "why that is our friendly space alien's decision. Parvana the Portly."
"She's mad."
"Good we agree. Now let's go find a place to park the asylum."
"Is there something in the AAW constitution about impeaching a CO?"
Twisted smile, Shauzia replies, "you could impeach the Commander-in-Chief with the right vote. No provision to impeach a CO, that is the C-in-C's responsibility to deal with her."
"So what pray tell does the C-in-C think of this project?"
"She's all for it. See Parvana, well she had a sea change. Used to be goofy, nutty, a non-entity. Came back from leave like a stormtrooper, like a different person in her body. Parvana has lotsa clout in HQ and getting more. Only a question of time til the C-in-C retires and our space alien launches a coup to be next C-in-C."
I think of Norbert, seemed a laidback guy, except for his fight with the mil bureaucracy. But they say power corrupts.
Quietly Shauzia says, "we could screw up big, choose a Camp Misery of a place. Think HQ would give a sweet go**am? All we'd make miserable is 2,000 schoolgirls and 235 members."
This focuses me. I ain't working for Norbert anymore. Members, they are adults, old enough to look out for themselves. I'm now working for 2,000 innocent young girls who simply wish to get an education. So, we do our best for the girls.
See, it isn't pulling 2,000 girls out of school in Pak, just relocating them. No, it's additional capacity. 2,000 girls cooling their heels in refugee camps finally get a chance. And that is worth whatever it takes.
So maybe Norbert is using his power for good, not bad. Give him the benefit of the doubt, he's good until he shows otherwise.
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 8:06 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home