Shemale Passion:

Corporal Nadya

Alex Waldegger

Russia, March 1942

On the long trudge south from Sector East base, I deliberately stayed close to Corporal Nadyezhda Kalinina, second-in-command of our section. Tall, muscular, fearless, she was like the ideal Soviet women on the propaganda posters. It was a comfort to march near such a tower of strength, and out in the field I needed comfort.

And she was the only soldier I thought of as a friend. Perhaps it was because we were both, in our own way, outsiders. She was from Moscow, not Leningrad like the rest of us. As for me, I felt no connection with these women who spent their nights with different men. Their stories of men going inside them, whatever that meant, repelled me. It seemed Corporal Kalinina felt the same, and at barracks we often found a corner alone together where we sat and talked softly, using the familiar forms of our names: Nadya and Annushka, for Nadyezhda and Anna.

Weariness weighed down our feet. Ahead, most of the land was white under a leaden sky. We'd marched kilometers south from Sector East base. If we kept on like this, we'd soon see the Neva river. But no, we'd never get that far. The Germans had crossed it months before.

The boom of rifles threw us into the snow, our bodies reacting before we knew what had happened. Up ahead, the quieter crack rifles heard from behind spoke of our return fire.

Where were the Germans? I hadn't seen them, but had I really been looking? On patrol we should always be scanning the ground ahead, but after hours of numbing trek the attention always wandered.

For the hundredth time I regretted volunteering for the women's battalion. Men were conscripted, but I could have stayed home in Leningrad. Stayed home and starved. All of Leningrad was dying from hunger. A bullet might be quicker and less painful than that, but whenever the Germans opened fire, starvation didn't seem so bad after all.

Nadya's Moscow accent yelled, "Minkova! Vadimova!" There were no Nadya and Annushka in battle, only ranks and surnames.

I turned my head. She was looking straight at me. She knew I was scared. Worse, the section sergeant suspected me, and could charge me with cowardice. Nadya was never afraid in battle, that was beyond doubt. I had to try to be more like her.

"On your feet, the pair of you! With me!"

Vadimova and I got up from the snow, crouching as low as we could without falling.

"Forward! For Russia!" Nadya straightened up a little to run faster, heedless that it made her an easier target. She got ahead of us, then dropped to one knee in a dip in the ground.

"Come on, you two! Keep up!" she roared.

Vadimova followed Nadya's example and stood up straighter for speed. Enemy fire boomed on, and something buzzed past me. I'd nearly been hit!

Vadimova tumbled. Crimson splashed the snow as she fell. It was more than I could take. I turned tail and ran as fast as I could away from the shooting.

A hand caught my arm from behind. A leg swept both of my feet from beneath me. With a cry I dropped my rifle and put out my hands to cushion my fall. But my arm was still held, and the grip twisted me sideways as I fell.

Nadya's rifle was in her free hand. She threw it down in the snow beside mine. I tried to regain my footing, but she pushed me to the ground. She was on me, her hands pinning my arms down on either side of my head, her chest above mine. I fought to move my arms, but she was too strong, her grip like iron bonds.

"They can't see us here." He voice was little above a whisper.

She looked sideways and I followed her gaze. There was a ridge blocking the rest of the section and the Germans from sight.

Her face came down over mine, her breath hot on my chilled skin.

"Nadya–" I blurted.

"Annushka," she murmured, "don't be scared."

"I – I–" I stammered. Then her lips parted and came down over mine, open mouth on open mouth, our breath mixing. I tried to close my jaw, but I couldn't. Her lips barely touched mine, just brushing, but each slight movement sent a jolt through me.

She lowered her weight onto me. Her chest, full and womanly, crushed against mine. Something touched my lower lip, just inside my mouth. It was her tongue! Mmm – mmm – my throat sounded like the squeak of a mouse, high-pitched. My head twitched to the side, tearing my lips away from hers. But then my neck, outside my control, turned back to give her my mouth again.