Military stories from past to present, both wars.

A Day in the life around Little Rock

December 1st, 2006 Posted in The SandGram v1.0

Dear Gang,

I’ve been flying with a Captain who lives in Jacksonville, Arkansas, (outside of Little Rock proper and along side the Air Force base.) Little Rock sparked a memory of my initial C-130 training. After pinning on my gold Naval Aviator wings January 16th 1991, I packed up my house, put my Dalmatian “Dale” in the passenger seat of my truck and with my ditty bag, moved to Little Rock. Unfortunately, the base didn’t allow pets in the BOQ, and I couldn’t bring myself to put her in a Kennel for two months. So I began calling every apartment complex around the base that allowed pets. This landed me in a cozy, rundown 1960s-style furnished apartment with faux wood paneling and ugly orange covered sofas and chairs. Pretty bad, but after the manager told me it was a renovated like-new place, I didn’t feel bad about saying that my seventy-pound dog weighed twelve pounds…

I was on the ground floor, the middle of three apartments, so my bedroom butted up to my neighbor’s living room. The second night I was there, a pair of headlights turned into the parking spot outside my window that created daylight out of the pitch black. Rolling over, I tried to ignore it, but after they both slammed their car doors, Dale started to growl as a couple approached their front door just feet from my bed. Talking loudly, they entered their apartment, slamming that door as well. The walls were poorly insulated, allowing me to hear EVERYTHING going on next door.

A loud female voice shouted at her companion, “Damn it Demme!! Get on your knees and take my boots off!!” The sound of a muffled male voice complied, but apparently not exactly as she wished. “Damn it Demme, not fast enough, get up you bastard!!” She shouted this, and it was now accompanied by what sounded like a leather belt striking flesh. Flashbacks of my Dad’s 1970’s thick leather disco belt coming into contact with my rear came to mind as I rolled over and couldn’t restrain myself from listening.

For the next hour and a half, I had to endure this lurid S&M show as she beat him unmercifully. Part of me wanted to bang on the wall to let them know that I was sharing their kinky experience as well, but being the new guy there, I was afraid of making waves, plus she might come over and kick my butt next. I just went over to my flight suit and pulled out a pair of earplugs. Of course, that didn’t work. I could still hear them.

The next day, looking a little worse for wear, I relate this story to my classmates who tossed out the usual comments like, “Hey, was she hot???” or “Why didn’t you go join ’em, then you could beat them” and “hey, you can stay in my BOQ room and I’ll stay at your place.” This crap went on all day.

That night I settled down in the rack with Dale on the floor next to the window. It was a repeat of the night before. She made that guy do things that would cause a whore at the Mustang Ranch to blush. Another long night…

The next morning, tired and pissed off, I was walking my dog around the apartment complex, when I saw the door to their apartment open. My interest peaked as to what kind of man would take the abuse I heard all night. Out he stumbled, about my age and size, but with something obviously wrong with him. He walked past her beat-up Chevy Nova covered in “Elect Bill Clinton for Gov” and “Vote Democrat” all over the bumper to a half way house across the street for handicap and mentally retarded adults.

Lots of thoughts went through my mind as I knocked on the door of this house. A small girl with mild Down’s syndrome opens the door. I asked to speak to the manager if he or she were there. She scurried off and the manager returned. I introduced myself and then asked if she knew the guy who stayed in the apartment across the street. “Oh yes,” she said, “That’s Demme, he has a girlfriend there.” I proceeded to tell her about the abuse I overheard for the past two nights and how something needs to be done to protect this guy. She shook her head and said, “Unfortunately, Demme is well enough to know better and he chooses to be with her and we have no say over it.” She thanked me for stopping by and closed the door.

My blood was boiling now, what to do… I went right over to her apartment and knocked on the door. I could hear her moving around, coming towards the door. Lot’s of things were going through my brain right then, as I was ready to lay into her with my Drill Instructor voice!! The door opened and standing in front of me, barely three feet tall and around fifty years old was the “look alike” from the movie Poltergeist, you know the little woman that says, “Stay away from the light, Carolyn.” With the sweetest voice, this little person looked up at me and said, “Can I help you, young man??” I was actually lost for words; my mouth was just opening and closing, nothing coming out while I pointed at my apartment and dog. “I, erhhhhh, live next door and well since the walls were SO thin, I hope that my dog’s barking wasn’t bothering you???”

She just beamed and rolled her head from side to side, “Oh no, your doggie sure is sweet when she looks out the window at me.” Damn it, I wanted to say something, but what could I say? This midget next door was beating up a six-foot tall guy and he liked it. Embarrassed I told her “Good-bye” and walked away.

That night, round three. I couldn’t take it anymore. The next day I went to an adult store, bought a nice porn film, and hooked my VCR up to my kick-butt stereo, and put the speakers up against the wall in my living room, which shared her bedroom. I waited that night till she was done spanking her slave-man around, and then I put the film on. I cranked it so all you heard were moans and screaming as this actress “made love” and then I went into my room, put my ear plugs in, and Dave Clark headsets on and went to sleep. I only had to do this two more nights before she got the message and the beatings stopped.

Well, what can I say?? I was in Little Rock; stranger things have happened, I’m sure. Oh, what a military man has to put up with as he moves around…
S/F
Taco
PS, here is the link to the slides I put on YouTube.

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