Wednesday, October 29, 2008

COMMANDO - A Kelly Winchester Novel

COMMANDO by Alex. J. Alex

The world is at war. Kelly Winchester is a U.S. Navy fighter / bomber pilot who is recruited by an elite force that has been formed to take the war behind enemy lines. Kelly has been successful where others have not. She falls in love with the commander of the unit, Jim Bradock, a Navy Captain and they marry, but she decides to keep her name.

The two embark on a Commando operation together, but are separated, and Kelly has to make her own way to try to accomplish the mission and make a return to friendly territory. She heads west, across China and Mongolia with the intention of finding U.S. forces in Afghanistan.

Kelly steals a plane and gets to within 100 miles of the border, then she has to walk the rest of the way. Once in Afghanistan, she is captured by the Taliban and is about to be beheaded on television when her husband leads units of the First Cavalry to rescue her.



Kelly sat there for at least a half an hour, minding her own business. She was about to give up and leave, when a nicely dressed man with a little mustache came in and crossed the floor in her direction, looking straight at her. He moved stealthily, like a cat. He had black hair slicked back flat on his head. He was smoking a cigarette.

He sidled up to her, motioning to the bartender to bring him a drink and refill Kelly’s. He smiled at her as if she should know who he was. He seemed to expect Kelly to speak first. Instead she smirked at him and turned toward the bar. She lifted her half-empty drink to her lips, downed it, slammed the glass down on the bar upside down and said in a purposely bored sounding voice, “Gon bay.”

The bartender handed him a glass and he did the same thing. “Gon bay,” he said, slamming his glass down on the bar.

Kelly turned her head to face him. She removed her dark glasses and batted her eyes at him.
“Wu Tang?”

He looked at her with amusement. “Madam Chang?”

They both laughed.

“We’re supposed to know each other, aren’t we,” she said.

“I just know your name, and that you’re nice to look at.”

“I’ve heard that you’re pretty slick yourself.”

“I suppose you know who I am.”

“I do.” She smiled at him. “I’ll bet you want to know who I am.”

“I admit, right now, you are a mystery. I like mysterious women.”

“So I’ve heard.” She dipped the middle finger of her left hand into the drink the thoughtful bartender had just placed in front of her. She swirled it around, raised her finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, sucking it in and out. She closed her eyes and sensuously made love to her finger the way she would a man’s penis, faking a gentle orgasm.

Wu Tang sat there watching her, entranced. She was hardly doing anything, hardly moving, but it was like watching a porno movie. He reached out and placed his hand on her neck, kneading it gently. Kelly moaned softly in pleasure. His hand was warm and it did feel good.

She removed her finger from her mouth and swirled it around in her drink again. Kelly opened her eyes, turning to look at him. She raised her hand to his lips and slowly inserted her finger into his mouth. He was caught up in her sensual play. He sucked her finger into his mouth, savoring the alcohol and swirling his tongue around it. He closed his eyes. She slid her finger in and out, fucking his mouth with her finger.

She slowly pulled her finger back out of his mouth. He sat there with his eyes still closed for a moment. Kelly dipped her finger into her drink again and raised it to his lips again. She didn’t let him suck it into his mouth though, she made him lick the alcohol off of it.

He opened his eyes. He cleared his throat and unobtrusively shook his head as if emerging from a trance.

“Would you care to dance?”



Lieutenant Kelly Winchester is a pilot who is shot down over the jungle and captured. Held in a prisoner of war camp run by a sadistic maniac, she is eventually transferred to another prison where she is brainwashed and finally sold as a slave. Her strength will prevail...and her heroism. Her enemies may be sorry she survived...


She watched the last missile streak over the jungle and strike the target, obliterating it.

"Look out! Look out!" screamed the voice of POPEYE, her wingman through the headphones. The warning buzzer blared at her, alerting her to an enemy missile locked on to her aircraft.
"VIXEN, you've got a missile on your tail."

She wrenched the stick back and to the right. The plane responded nimbly and climbed up and to the right in a gut-wrenching 3 Gee maneuver.

Then the missile exploded. It didn't actually contact VIXEN's plane, but it was close enough, blowing the tail apart and sending the plane tumbling back down toward the jungle.

"Eject, VIXEN, eject!" yelled POPEYE.

Realizing that she only had moments to react, the pilot quickly punched the eject button. As the explosives beneath her seat exploded, the cockpit canopy flew off and the seat exited the aircraft. She hoped she wouldn't be killed by the tumbling aircraft before clearing the wreckage.

The wind almost knocked her unconscious as she was thrown clear. Then the parachute deployed, slowing her down. Suddenly it was very quiet. She looked down at the jungle. She watched as her plane crashed and exploded in a tangle of twisted metal.

She manipulated the controls of her chute, steering away from the target she had just demolished and toward a stream, just visible beneath the trees. She dropped toward the ground as quickly as she could. The sooner she got down and had a chance to hide, the more likely she could elude those on the ground and, hopefully, get picked up by a rescue helicopter.

She skillfully guided the chute between the trees and over the little stream. She swooped down over the rushing water. She lifted her legs and landed in the middle of the stream on her butt.
The water was warm like the humid air. She surfaced as quickly as she could in the rushing water and stabbed her feet into the mud. The water was only about four feet deep and she stood up, all five feet, eight inches.

She hurried to strip off the chute harness and gather it into a ball. She fought her way against the current to the shallows and up the bank to dry ground. She rolled the chute into a ball and pushed it into a hollow between the roots of a tree on the bank. She covered it with some leaves, a few twigs, and a strip of moss she stripped from the ground.

She heard a dog bark. She heard voices. Someone was coming, rather noisily, through the underbrush. She slipped back into the water and out into the current, lifting her legs and drifting downstream. She pushed herself ahead by stabbing at the mud on the bottom with her boots. For rescue, she needed to stay near the plane, but to elude pursuers, she needed to get moving.
She reached down to her thigh and retrieved the service pistol from its holster. She moved faster and faster as the current swept her along.

She couldn't hear the pursuers anymore, but as the current got swifter, the channel got shallower. When it got up to about two and a half feet, she stood up and waded to the bank opposite the side where she had heard the pursuers. She climbed up the bank and slipped into the dark forest. She shook the pistol to get rid of as much of the water as she could, then she pulled the slide back and chambered a round. She thumbed the safety off.

The underbrush made it difficult to move quickly, and she couldn't help leaving a trail. The flight suit hadn't kept her dry and it was soggy, slowing her down. The helmet on her head seemed heavier than it had in the cockpit. Every step she took seemed like it made too much noise. She kept listening for the sound of a pursuit, and eventually she heard it.

She looked around for a tree to climb and hide in, but there were none with branches low enough for her to reach. She hunkered down between some bushes at the edge of a small clearing and covered herself with some damp leaves.

It didn't take long. She watched as several men following her trail, entered the clearing. There were two young men, boys really, one old man, and a strong-looking man carrying an AK-47 who seemed to be in charge. It was obvious that the trail ended in the clearing. The men just couldn't tell where she was hiding.

They flailed around at the brush with sharp, wicked-looking machetes. As they came closer to her, she stood up and leveled the pistol at them. Her sudden appearance elicited an excited exchange in a language she could not understand, but they were all laughing at her.

She was suddenly hit from behind and thrown to the ground. Her attacker landed on her back as she fell face down in the mud. The pistol went flying as she had the wind knocked out of her. The attacker grabbed her arm and twisted it back into a hammerlock behind her back. She was yanked to her feet.

Another man, wearing a jungle uniform, came around from behind and stood nose to nose with her. He yelled at her incomprehensibly, his face thrust close to hers. He had bad breath. Then he yelled at her in English.

"Yankee pig!" He reached up and yanked off her helmet. As her blond hair shimmered around her shoulders, the startled man staggered back a step and the others fell silent.

"You're a woman!"

She smirked at him.

"Surprised?" she said softly.



Max, a young hunk who has very little experience with women, gets out of the Marine Corps in 1968 and finds out his girlfriend has gotten married and moved away. He jumps in his old convertible and heads west to see the country. It seems that everywhere he goes he runs into fascinating--and sexy--women who fall all over him, from a ski bunny with two broken legs to a well-preserved bordello madam. From joining the mile High Club to starring in a triple-X movie, Max's sexual experiences are not only plentiful, but original and entertaining as well. Come along for the ride, and keep the top down.



Then, she appeared. She was carrying a large cloth bag.

“Oh, a red convertible.”

“Yeah. I just love to ride around with the top down.”

“How old is this car?” she asked as she ran her hand along the fender.

“It’s a 1954 Lincoln. It weighs about three tons and it’s faster than it looks.”

“Ooo, good. I like to go fast.” She hefted the bag. “Could I put this in the trunk?”

“Sure.” He opened the trunk and she threw the bag in. It looked like a laundry bag that Max had had when he was in the Marines.

“Dirty underwear?” he asked

She gave him a smoky look and leaned against him, putting her arm around him and tiptoeing up to whisper, “I don’t wear any underwear.” She squeezed his buttocks, then slapped his butt. “Let’s go,” she said with a laugh, and she skipped around to the passenger side and got in.

Max hadn’t seen many women where he had been stationed for the past year, especially round eyes. This hitchhiker was almost more than he knew what to do with. The girls he remembered from before he had enlisted certainly hadn’t been as forward as this. A lot must have changed since he had left for Okinawa in 1965. He knew that there was a lot of anti-war sentiment, and that there were folks called flower children whose slogan was “Make Love, Not War”. He was beginning to think that he was linking up with one of them, and wasn’t too sure how to take it.

He was proud of his service in Viet Nam. The few Vietnamese he had met had been friendly even though they were awfully poor. They seemed to be pretty much indifferent to the war, but they treated U.S. servicemen with respect and friendship. He had heard that it was different down South in the delta, but North of Hue there was a conventional war going on between the North Vietnamese army and the U.S. Third Marine Division.

He got in the car, pumped the gas pedal once, turned the key, and pressed the starter button. The big V-8 roared to life with a healthy rumble. He put it in Drive, released the brake, and headed out onto the highway. The four-speed hydramatic shifted flawlessly as the big Lincoln shot down the acceleration ramp and merged with the westbound traffic. What a beautiful day for a ride.

“I like this car,” said Anita, her hair streaming in the wind. “I might even get a little tan.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been in the sun very much yet this summer.”

“You don’t get much sun in The Village.”

“The Village?”

“Greenwich Village. In New York.”

“Oh. Are you a Beatnik?”

“Sort of. They call us Hippies now.”

“I was a Beatnik for a while, before I joined the Corps. I still carry around a copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouak. I even took it to Viet Nam with me. It’s in the glove compartment.”

“Were you a Marine?” she asked with a wide-eyed expression on her face. “You do look like you could be a killer. I don’t think much of the war. I don’t think much of anybody killing anyone else.”

“Listen, my old neighborhood in Newark is a lot more dangerous than Viet Nam was. I had a nice safe bunker to live in over there. At home, you never know who might shoot you or stab you in the alley and there seems to be more dope on the streets than I ever saw in Viet Nam.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“Who cares? Let’s just live for the moment. I don’t care who you are or what you did. I just want to snuggle up to you.”

With that, she slid across the bench seat and leaned against him. Max put his arm around her.
She was warm and soft. She licked his neck.

“What was that for?”

“Did you like it?”

He looked down at her and grinned. She snuggled closer. Then she took his right hand, slipped it under her arm and placed it on her breast. Max could tell that she hadn’t been lying about not wearing underwear--at least she apparently wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipple was hard.

“How long has it been since you had a woman?”



The muscular creatures have absolutely no hair – anywhere on their marvelous bodies, not even eyebrows. They live most of their lives in free fall and have learned that frequent sex with multiple partners is good for the body as well as the mind. Bill Thomas is immersed in this culture and discovers that women who are hundreds of thousands of years old can be sexy and hard to keep up with. Will 3, his alien companion, ever understand the notion of love, or a monogamous relationship…?

Terrorists and dangerous aliens surround Bill and his sexy, alien companions as they learn about each other's culture. Join him as he represents contemporary Earth surrounded by gorgeous, horny, alien women in this exciting Science Fiction thriller.



I opened the hatch.

The creatures hovering just outside the hatch, two males and two females, did appear to be human, just like us, except they were all bald. They had absolutely no hair. Even the females had no hair. And I mean they really had no hair at all. No pubic hair or body hair, not even eyebrows as far as I could tell. It was very curious. Here we were confronted by these exceptionally beautiful hairless creatures, each of whom could have been a model for a statue in the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses.

On the one hand, we were all somewhat frightened and anxious about our situation. On the other hand, it was difficult to ignore feelings of sexual arousal. I mean these creatures looked good. They all appeared to have a deep bronze complexion. They might have had a fair skin to begin with, but they were deeply tanned. They were all very muscular and obviously in excellent condition. One thing about weightlessness, breasts and buttocks don't sag when there is no gravity so they all looked even better--and sexier--than they would have under normal circumstances on Earth.

They motioned us out. We were all fairly clumsy, but eventually we were all floating outside the hatch feeling self-conscious and trying not to stare at our captors. Nobody said anything, but there was no doubt that we could do nothing but comply with them.

Abruptly, one of the female creatures gave a flick of her cape and darted away. That's when I realized what the capes were for. She used it the way a bird would use a wing. It wasn't very large but apparently, in skilled hands, it could be very effective for moving about in free fall. I can't help saying that she looked incredibly sexy as she maneuvered her body this way and that.

The other creatures motioned us to join her out in mid-air.



Lisa and Steve Jackson have never had a proper honeymoon. Lisa enters a contest for a fabulous second honeymoon – and wins the grand prize! The Stiff and Slippery Pharmaceutical Company sends them on an all expense paid trip to the fabulous Earthlight Space Station. All they have to do is agree to use the company's newest aphrodisiac...


"Well I'll be damned," said Steve. "It looks legit. But what's this about Stiff & Slippery. Isn't that the company that sells all that aphrodisiac stuff? We don't need any of that crap, do we?"

Lisa lowered her eyes. She rubbed her arms. Then she looked up at Steve with a smile. "They have a new product that is supposed to allow a person to keep going almost forever. I agreed to try it when I entered the contest."

Steve glared at her.

"It works on women, too, you know. The way it works on us is, well, it's supposed to prolong and intensify all our orgasms while making our bodies more sensitive, so we have more of them. Essentially, it's supposed to increase desire as well as satisfaction in a woman."

Steve didn't say anything, but the unasked question, 'What's in it for me?', hung in the air between them.

She looked at him demurely, with a hint of a smile on her lips. "You'll be able to keep your erection indefinitely. You'll never go limp. You can come, over and over again, and just keep going - maybe for the whole week."


JANET'S BAD DAY by Alex J Alex

Janet has a bad experience with her boss, a revolting person, while fantasizing about the characters in a book she has been reading. He asks her for sex the next day in the office and fires her when she refuses. She is car-jacked and snaps, getting the gun away from her attacker. She gets the attention of a policeman by speeding past him and tries to get his help, but she drops the car-jacker’s gun, reaches for it, and the policeman shoots her.


Janet was a nice girl. She wasn't particularly smart, or pretty, or good at anything, but she was nice. She worked as a secretary at a small office in a large city. She lived alone with her cat, her bird, and a tank of tropical fish. She hadn't had a date in months and felt inadequate.

She had gone to see the Gypsy. The colorful woman always seemed to be laughing at something. But she hadn't laughed last night. She had gotten serious when she dealt out the Tarot cards and scanned them.

"This is bad," she said. "Very bad. Very bad."

"But there are none of the bad cards showing," said Janet.

"Oh," said the Gypsy, "that's true. None of the really bad cards are here, tonight. But this one here… this one worries me. And it seems to be in a dominant position."

The Gypsy pointed to a card right in front of Janet. It was only the Five of Pentacles.

"What's so bad about that card?" asked Janet.

"It portends bad things," said the Gypsy. "Bad things. Bad things will happen to you. Soon. Really soon. Maybe even tonight. Or perhaps tomorrow. But bad things will happen in your life."




Four childhood friends lose their innocence when one of them calls up a demon who strips away their inhibitions. Joan and Susan give Diana her birthday wish, a game of strip poker including their friend Billy. The game is enhanced by Pantallas, a quirky demoness conjured up by Susan, who is most interested in their good time.



“Joan, there’s something peculiar about this card. I get a tingling sensation every time I touch it.”

“Hmm. Let me see it.”

Billy handed it to her.

“That’s odd,” she said.

“Here,” said Billy, “Let me show you something.”

He took the card and slipped it into the front of Joan’s shorts.

“Oh, Billy,” she said. He had rarely done anything like that before.

“Just leave it there for a while,” he said.

They walked a little further.

“I’ve got a strange feeling in my pants,” said Joan.

“I did too,” said Billy.

“It makes me want to kiss you and make out with you,” she giggled.

“Me too,” said Billy.

“I’ll bet Susan is behind this, or Diana.”

“You think so?”

“You know we’re all witches, don’t you? Or at least we’re trying to be.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve told me all that stuff before.”