"What Happens In A Warzone..." (closed)

[Tony2015]

"What Happens In A Warzone..."

(closed)​

The raid was swift and surgical ... and over before most of those in the village knew it had begun. The first shots came from my snipers in the surrounding hills. The last came from my own .45 caliber handgun, as I executed the leader of the militia that had taken over the village just eight days earlier. Elapsed time from first shot to last: 145 seconds. Casualties: 18 dead enemy militia, two villagers (acceptable collateral damage), and one twisted ankle amongst my troops. He'd live.

My men used panic to control the villagers, firing our now-unsilenced weapons into the air and pushing people about as necessary. In about as much time as it had taken to seize the community of 100, we had those 100 men, women, and children gathered up in the village square, huddled close together in fear, just the way I wanted them.

My twelve men split into two teams. One remained with the villagers, surrounding them and ensuring that they continued to respect the heavy weapons trained on them. The other half began pillaging through the almost two dozen huts, looking for guns, electronics, jewels, and anything that might be easily converted into hard currency during out next visit to the Provincial Capital.

I went to the village's communal building -- little more than a larger than normal hut -- and searched it for evidence of the villager's allegiance to any one particular militia group. There were at least six paramilitary organizations vying for control over this particular province, in addition to the current government forces, backed by the United States of America which had helped overthrow the democratically elected Marxist leader in a bloody military coup.

I personally didn't much care about who ran the country, the province, or even this little squat village in the depths of the thick jungle. I had no political allegiances nor political goals. I had no interest in being part of the government once the war ended. Of course, the war here would never end. There had been conflict here in one form or another since the time of my grandfather's youth. And there would be conflict here in one form or another in the time of my grandchildren's youth ... presuming I ever had a child to give me grandchildren.

No, this fight was about survival, plain and simple. Here, a man without a formal education -- like myself -- could only be one of two things: a man with a gun, or a man controlled by a man with a gun. I chose the former. And thankfully, I was good at it. I was involuntarily drafted at age 13 into the People's Liberation Party, what was the primary anti-government rebel force of the day. I was taught to be a soldier, though I mostly just performed labor day in, day out for a cot, two meals a day, and the equivalent of $5 US at the end of most weeks.

While squatting in the woods one day taking a shit, my camp was ambushed by the Army. I killed nine people before the day was over, using a rifle, a pistol, and even my bare hands. The next day I was the new commander of Delta Squad. I was 16.

We spend most of our time ambushing Government convoys on rural, mountainous roads. We stole their valuables, from vehicles and weapons to boots and underwear. It was more banditry than warfare, but as we tried to limit our attacks to Government forces, we called it the latter.

The isolation from our main forces and the ever changing landscape of local and international politics slowly led to the severing of my ties with the PLP. Six years ago, at age 25, I led an attack against what would turn out to be a CIA-backed cocaine smuggling operation. Three days later, while Googling my name on one of the laptops we'd stolen-- backed by internet from a satellite-phone -- I discovered a New York Times article in which I had been referred to as the Commander of the murderous, anti-democratic, anti-government, Guzma Norte Paramilitary. Needless to say, official recognition by the Americans led to some celebrating and drinking that night. Who wouldn't be thrilled to learn that the US government had your picture on a wall in some non-descript building somewhere with a red Bullseye painted over your face? I didn't much care for the name that had been chosen out of thin air to represent us, but it could have been worse.

By the time we'd found and taken all we wanted from this latest target's huts, the sun was rising up from beyond the tall, jungle covered mountains. I called out in the local dialect, "Who is the village Elder?" When no one volunteered an answer, I grabbed a young female by her hair and lifted her to her feet as I pointed my gun at her face. "Who is the Village Elder?

The person who rose cautiously and responded was ... well, let's use the word unexpected. She only said, "He's dead. He was killed." She looked to the corpses now piled like cord wood at the village's edge and finished, "By them."

I gestured toward my Lieutenant, who waded through the villagers to collect the young woman and bring her to me. She was very attractive, sexy even. And she wasn't from around these parts either. "Who are you? What is your place here?"

She answered. I considered her for a moment, then told her, "My name is Joseph Martinez. But you will call me Commander."

I turned away, saying, "Bring her."

Behind me, my Lieutenant followed, bringing the young woman with him with the level of encouragement she made necessary. We entered the Communal Building, when I began stripping off my outer layers of weapons, ammo, and fatigues.

"I do not speak the local dialect," I began in a very matter of fact tone as I continued stripping down. "But since you and I seem to speak the same language, you are going to be my ... what's that word, that French word ... liaison? Yes, liaison. You are going to be my liaison to this village during the few days that we are here. I will tell you what I want. You will get it for me. If you don't, I will kill a child in front of his or her parent. Then, you will get me what I wanted anyway, so ... why shed blood, no?"

I was down to my boxers by the time I finished talking. I turned and faced her, showing my well sculpted, tight body and its numerous battle scars. I asked simply, "Understand?"

 

[MissyDemeanors]

I, Bailey Monroe, had planned for a lot of things. Disease, starvation even murder. I knew when I joined the peace corp that all were a possibility. They had never mentioned the village they were at was so close to a war zone. I've been in the peace corp for 5 years now.

I'd gone in at 18 and gone to smaller countries that simply needed irrigation work and mild assistance. My bravery increased with each visit. I hadn't been home in nearly 3 months but before that I had been gone for 6. It was becoming harder to socialize with people my age when I knew all the depravity going on just a few plane rides away.

I was stationed at a nearby village but I'd agreed to bring over fresh supplies to this one. I was eager to see the children. They were doing wonderful in school and they loved playing with my hair and telling me all they had learned.

When the screaming started I knew my life was about to change. I wasn't going to return to that village, they would suspect I'd been killed along the way. My most recent excursion had started with a waver agreement that in the case of capture we understood, to keep peace....no one would come for us.

I'd nearly said no. I'd nearly walked away. My leader had insisted that there was no cause for Alarm. That they weren't in a war zone. He was right, base camp wasnt, the villages we saw were. I cursed him silently as we were corralled into place.

I grew up in the foster care system and had no one waiting at home for me. My friends were fellow peace corp members and my family was the villagers I met. Knowing few would mourn my dead body saddened me.

I waited for them to open fire when their leader spoke out in a poor dialect. Those that could understand him were too afraid to speak. I spoke 5 languages now and I understood him just fine. Coming forward I told him they had dispatched the elder and gave him my name.

Cooperation was encouraged above all else. The militias were hot heads. They were predators that devoured, destroyed and moved on. As I was manhandled to the closest hut I kept my mouth shut. A feet I'm not normally good at.

I listened to Joseph describe his demands. My escorts just left me. As Joseph stripped to show his muscles I imagine they felt safe that my weak frame wouldn't be a problem, they were right.

He threatened the children which was unnecessary. Even if I didn't love these people the way i do I knew my survival was dependent on my cooperation as well. Bargaining would be fruitless and dangerous.

Once he was down to his underwear I stood shaking. I nodded but knew to speak up "I understand." Was all I said and waited for orders like I was one of his men. I didn't know why he was stripping when I was the one clearly sweating.

 

[Tony2015]

"I understand."

"Good," I said, picking up my side arm and walking to the hut's door. I called out, and a moment later my Lieutenant arrived. I glanced out at the gathered villagers and ordered, "Move'em, Desoto. Standard dispersion. Find someone to bring me hot water ... food and drink
. Tell the men standard containment." I pointed a finger into his face and growled, "Keep the men under control until I get things straight, got it?"

He looked past me toward the cute, young white girl with whom I was standing in my boxers, then looked back to me. "But you will get things straight ... right, Commander?"

I patted him on the shoulder, knocking loose some of the dirt and dust that had accumulated over our six day trek through the jungle. "Trust me, Dee." I peeked back at the beauty, ogling her up and down, before saying suggestively, "I'll get things straight ... for all of us."

"The Elder," Desoto said almost in a whisper.

"One of the collaterals?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded and took his leave.

After he was gone, I pulled the flimsy door shut and walked to what amounted to a kitchen. It was little more than an open pit fire with iron works for frying, broiling, and boiling what ever the Village Elder had had to eat. I poked about the leftovers, finding some smoked meat, brown rice, and dehydrated jungle fruit. I tossed some of the morsels into my mouth and took others with me as I turned to survey the young beauty again. I studied both her body and face and I circled her slowly. She may have taken it as a hungry, carnal ogle; or she may have taken it as me innocently studying her. What I told her next, though, would probably settle any doubts.

"I am not your typical, ruthless, paramilitary leader, Miss Monroe," I began, asking quickly, "Do you mind if I call you Bailey?" Regardless of whether she gave me permission or not, I continued, "Bailey, some of the other militias in the Province would kill the village's men ... rape the women, even the young ones ... if she's old enough to bleed, she's old enough to breed."

I'd always found that saying so inappropriate and obscene, but it was how so many of my militia counterparts viewed young women ... girls, really. I continued, "They would enslave the children. The girls would go to wealthy land owners as house slaves and, ultimately, bed slaves. The boys would work in the coca fields. It they were still alive and well at 12, maybe 13, they'd be recruited into the militias where they would typically die inside a year, maybe two."

I popped a piece of fruit in my mouth as I found myself standing just a couple of feet in front of her. I could smell her, the scent of a nervous, sweating, frightened woman. It was delicious. I'd never much cared for the artificial scents popular with the women -- professional and amateur both -- that could be had down in the cities.

"You can prevent all that, Bailey," I told her, looking deeply into her sparkling brown eyes. "I have 12 men with me. They will require food ... drink ... and comfort. Female comfort. Six women will do. No girls. No virgins. War widows maybe." My lips widened in a knowing smirk. I asked with a suggestive tone, "Maybe you know a few who like sex a bit more than the others?"

I popped a dried berry into my mouth, finishing, "If you arrange ... willing volunteers for a few days of rest and relaxation for my men ... no woman will find herself being taken against her will. Can you do that? For the safety of all?"

 

[MissyDemeanors]

"Yes."

I don't go in to detail or allow my face to show any expression. It saddens me to think his behavior is actually kind compared to what he could be. A kind barbarian. That was absurd.

I still leave the second he let's me. Showing up around the corner I go to the woman of the village. Finding volunteers won't be hard. Choosing who would be cursed to the fate was a different matter.

It would be easy because no mother wanted their children being mutilated. I gather 20 of the woman. I tell the elderly to guard the youths. They obliged knowing I was now this monsters mouth piece.

None of them wanted it but they thanked me for saving their children. No one believed the men would be gentle. Unless they were told other wise they knew the best bet was too submit. All 20 offer. 10 have infants they are feeding they leave. We talk about the remaining 10 deciding quickly.

The woman were strong and could handle themselves. As she walked back to Joseph she knew the hell and degration the woman she was with would be going through. The youngest following me was 18. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Whispering a thank you.

I nod my head and walk strong to Joseph even though my knees are weak. "These five woman have offered." They nodded their head to show their submission. "I'll be your sixth." I can't send these woman to this fate and not stand by them through it. I stare him in the eyes trying hard to hide my hate.

 

[Tony2015]

I sent Bailey away with one of my men watching over her. One of the older men arrived a minute later with a wooden bucket filled with steaming hot water from the fire out in what amounted to the village's plaza. As he mixed water for me to clean up, a pair of older women arrived with more food, as well as two different skin flasks with drink in them.

"Test it," I told the old man, shoving the bags at him. It wouldn't be the first time a conquered villager had tried to poison me. He complied, lifting the bags up to allow me to see the thick wine-like fluid pour into his mouth. He swallowed from both and offered them back, even giving me a recommendation of which was better. I sent them all away with my thanks and another order, "I need more wood for the fire."

After what was a shorter period of time than I'd expected, Desoto knocked, entered, and told me Bailey was here with the volunteers. They paraded inside. They ranged a great deal in age, from barely acceptable to pushing acceptability; and while not all five would have easily attracted a husband out in the appearance-conscious world, it wasn't their faces or body styles that my men were after. It was the warmth and wetness of their pussies.

I did the math and told Bailey, "I said six."

"These five woman have offered," she answered, adding, "I'll be your sixth."

"Unacceptable," I said without hesitation. I looked past her to Desoto. "Have you picked a hut for our dutiful volunteers?"

He nodded, correcting, "Two."

"Take them there," I continued, dipping a cloth into the hot water. As I lifted it and wrung it out, I continued without looking his way, "Go pick a sixth." I looked to Bailey and, to indicate that she hadn't fully followed my instructions, said, "Pick out the most resistant one."

"Yes, Commander," he said. He ordered the five women out, using his voice and gestured side arm to hurry them out.

Ignoring Bailey's response but remembering my declaration to her of how I was the lesser of many evils, I told the solder, "Dee! Make her legal."

"Yes, Commander," he said without dispute as he continued rushing the volunteers outside.

Of all my men, I never had to worry about Desoto, either his loyalty to me or his morals toward our work. Before he found himself a jungle guerilla, Desoto had been a civil rights law student down in the Provincial Capital. He'd been involved in politics, on his way to a place in the government. He'd had the ear of the man who was the international equivalent of the Secretary of State, and between them and their underlings, they'd had a plan to ensure that the Marxist government maintained the civil rights of the population which had, after all, voted them into office. Of course, the coup had brought an end to that. Now, he snuck around the jungle looking for bad guys to kill in a roundabout effort to make the world a better place.

Ironically, while he was making the arrangements for my men to get their dicks wet, Desoto wouldn't partake. I knew that. While some might think that his not participating equally would be a threat to his bond with the others, I had no fear of that. And any man who questioned Desoto's stand knew that I would cut his nuts off and present them to Dee as a gift.

Once my Lieutenant was out the door, I threw the wet mass of cloth to Bailey. It splashed against her skin and clothes.

"Wash me," I demanded.

I reached to one foot after another, stripping off a sock, then reached to my hips and pushed the boxers off and to the weaved mat floor of the hut. I wondered as I slowly turned my back to the bucket of water whether she would take first notice of my better than average cock, which was only swollen enough to make its possible, fully stiffened size apparent; or the multitude of knife, bullet, and shrapnel scars covering the rest of my body.

 

[MissyDemeanors]

"Pick out the most resistant one."

I bite my tongue so hard I feel like I'll Pierce it. I know he's showing his strength but I did as I was told. I pray the woman are prepared

"Dee!*Make her legal."

I'm happy to hear that but whoever they chose would still be miserable. At least he kept to his word when flexing his strength. I catch the cloth as it hits me in yhe stomach. My shirt soaked I simply glare knowing If I open my mouth I might as well grab a gun for him to kill me with.

I've seen the blood shed and the torture. I'm afraid but I was raised in America, no matter my fear, at my core I wasn't raised to be docile and the others safety was my only reason behind behaving.

I wait as he strips commanding me to wash him. I'd seen hundreds of naked bodies over the last three months. People who had been stripped after being killed or bodies laid out in hospitals. If he wants me impressed by his well above average penis, he's going to be disappointed. I wouldn't give him the satsfaction.

He sits and I move to him. He puts his filthy foot on me as I clean it. It's revolting touching him and I don't dare look him in the eyes. My eyes do flick up to his thigh and waist. He's riddled with scars. I would almost feel bad for him if I didn't know that those that had given him them were long dead.

As I dunked the cloth in the water and started up his calf I tried to sympathize with him to squash my defiance. I'd seen children toting guns. He was probably one of them forced to do what he thought he must to survive. He had the gun though. At the end of the day I can't get past the fact he's twice the size of the men of the village. He's fed and healthy, something few people here were.

I realize as I wash away the dirt that the dark stain his blood. He was bleeding and hadn't even noticed. "You're hurt." I dunk the clothe again washing over it but not being gentle. The sweat and dirt covering it. It's a slow trickle. "You should pour disinfectant on it after you're clean." I watch as the dirty water and blood soak my clothes as he uses me like a foot stool.

 

[Tony2015]

"You're hurt," she said, cleaning the wound that -- no longer clogged with jungle debris -- instantly began to bleed. "You should pour disinfectant on it after you're clean."

He made a dismissive pfft sound. "You Americans and your love of pharmaceuticals."

He stood, almost pushing his semi hardened cock into her face. He turned and stepped over to his pack, open a pocket, and pulled out an old bottle that once upon a time had had a label for an unconnected purpose. He returned, slapped it into her hand, and sat back down before her. "Put that on it." He didn't explain to her what I was, but he knew that she could figure out that it was a product made from the jungle itself.

He let her finish the first aid on him, but he was getting impatient with how long she was taking to conclude the cleaning. Nevermind the fact that he hadn't had a bath in almost a month, and any person who had any concern at all good probably spend 3 hours on him before he was entirely cleaned and disinfected. He snatched the rag from her hands, dunked it again, stood, and pressed it into his groin, beginning to clean his privates. The entire time that he wiped the dirty rag around his penis and balls, his gaze was set on her face. He dunked the rag one more time, this time cleaning the crack at his backside. His penis was noticeably more swollen at this point, enough so that it raised away from his growing.

He studied her for a moment more, tossed the rag into the bucket, hesitated a moment, and then said to her, "If I remember right, you volunteered." He gave her a moment to realize what he was suggesting, then casually said, "Take your clothes off." It was spoken almost like a lover talking to another lover, not a conquering soldier about to force the hostage into something she really didn't want to do.

 

[MissyDemeanors]

I tossed the rag into the water. I took a while to not flinch. His bulging member close to my face. I watch him wash himself and I'm repulsed by his idea of clean.

He mentioned I had offered my services and I lost it. "As I recall you said it was unacceptable." I scootch away before getting up. "There's 6 woman for you to choose from." I wrap my arms around myself pissed. I wouldn't be his personal servant when he went out of his way to make an example of me.The stench and grime coming off of him helped strengthen my resolve.

 

[Tony2015]

(OOC: For any potential readers, we are switching from First Person to Third. Much easier to write.)

Bailey scooted away and took a defensive stance. It didn't serve her as well as she might have expected. Joseph snatched her by the elbow in a flash, pulling her toward him and off balance. He spun her away from him and shoved her toward the make shift bed. Her feet caught on its edge, causing her to spill forth onto her belly.

Joseph was on her in a flash, using his strength, weight advantage, and position to his benefit. With one hand pressing at the middle of her back to keep her belly down, he reached under her waist and found the snap holding closed Bailey's shorts. With a flick it was loose, and as he jerked at the shorts to pull them clear of her buttocks, he told her, "I'm not going to share a woman with twelve men ... unless, of course, you don't satisfy me ... in which case, I'll share you with more than just these twelve men."

 

[MissyDemeanors]

Bailey could barely get enough air in to respond. His body weight felt like she was being crushed. The heat of her breath and the smell of his body was too much for her. She fought to stay calm. "Yes."

He could move a lot faster than she would have expected her back side exposed against him she gripped the covers and breathed deep when he pulled off her "I'll please you."

She heard stories of woman that had been gang raped. Those that didn't go mad usually killed themselves. It wasn't just the number that was the problem it was what the men thought of the woman.

Woman had become objects in the war. A means to an end. They destroyed the woman and made no effort to refrain from damaging them. One could be just as deadly as twelve. She knew it was her own fault for giving him lip so she whispered "I'm sorry." Not looking at him.

 

[Tony2015]

"I'll please you," she told him, obviously realizing -- or hoping -- that Joseph was the lesser of two potential evils.

He ripped the little shorts down off her hips and buttocks, inadvertently but not unwelcomingly taking her panties with them. In a flash her firm, young buttocks were exposed to him.

As the inevitable became so obvious, she said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said casually as he moved his second knee between her calves. He moved both hands to her hips and lifted her lower body upwards and back. The move, coupled with is moving his knees forward and apart, spread her wide open to Joseph. "I expected you to make this necessary."

He said the words as if she had been nothing more than a child taking a cookie from the jar on the kitchen counter after having been told not to do so. Gripping Bailey's hips tightly, Joseph maneuvered his cock in between her thighs. The warmth and natural wetness of her pussy contacted the top of his shaft. He knew that despite her pink layers already being naturally wet, Bailey wouldn't be ready for this. Joseph would have employed a bit of foreplay if he'd cared about whether or not this hurt. He didn't. She needed to understand that when it came to serving him in what ever fashion he deemed necessary, there was only right and wrong, nothing in between.

He pulled the head of his cock back until he felt her wetness at the swollen head and shoved. He felt and heard her reaction to his move but ignored it. He didn't penetrate her that first thrust, so he repeated, this time feeling the head of his cock slip inside. She was so fucking tight that Joseph only got the bulbous head inside before the resistance halted him. He wasn't actually intent on hurting Bailey, or he would have just sunk his cock into her in one swift movement. Instead, Joseph hesitated a moment, pulled back and pushed in a couple of times to wet himself, then shoved hard again. Half his 9 inch length sunk into Bailey. A couple more push-pulls and he was seriously wet. Bailey was still tight as fuck, but Joseph knew she would take him now. In one slow continuous push, complete with a deep grunt of satisfaction, Joseph hit bottom. He let out a long moan as he felt the tight, wet, warm grip of her muscles around his shaft. After a long moment of just enjoying the feeling, he began stroking his length back and forth within Bailey.

It didn't take long, perhaps thirty seconds, and it was over. He lifted his head to the heavens, rammed his length deep inside Bailey, and let out a deep groan of satisfaction as he felt his cock leaping inside her.

 

[MissyDemeanors]

Even knowing what was coming couldn't prepare her. The pain was awful but for as much as it hurt, she knew he could have hurt her far more. The first push the worst she bit the covers and let herself cry silently until it was finished. Had she been with a guy for love she'd have laughed a fit having him last only 30 seconds.

The 30 second fuck was a reprieve. The growl that came from him was primal. She closed her eyes and listened to him. She felt like a beast had just conquered her. He filled her that made her cry more. No one had ever cum in her before.

His cock shriveled and pulled from her. She hated that he figured this would be "necessary" that she needed to be raped to understand. The cum dripped from her. The fuck had been quick but he had a lot of cum.

She didn't look at him. She just whimpered "I want to leave please." She wiped her tears hoping she wouldn't have to look at him. She felt terrible because some small part of her was happy now that he hadn't let her be the 6th. The thought of having that happen to her by a dozen men was terrifying. She wouldn't say it but she was greatful to the barbarian.

 

[Tony2015]

Joseph used his still-tight grip of Bailey's hips to help him remain balanced upon his knees. He hadn't enjoyed the pleasure of orgasm in a long while ... several weeks, maybe ten? Joseph didn't masturbate, for no particular reason other than being afraid that is he ever started, he probably wouldn't stop; and he hadn't taken a woman at either of the last three villages they'd visited during that time. His head swam in the euphoria as his chest rose and fell from the intense pleasure.

Raising her face just enough to speak, Bailey said, "I want to leave please."

Joseph opened his eyes and looked down to the young woman. She kept her face away from him. He didn't blame her. Whether she had volunteered or not, the fact was that he'd just raped her. She had no reason to want to face him. Joseph pulled his cock from her slowly, letting the slowly softening member slump before him. He stood and backed away from Bailey, just a bit unsteady for a moment. He felt he should say something to her about what he'd just done. But what? Even though he wanted to say he was sorry, he couldn't. He'd raped Bailey to establish the proper relationship between them. He couldn't very well be apologizing to her, could he?

Instead, Joseph only returned to the bucket, rinsed out the rag and began cleaning his cock, balls, and groin. He waited until the redressed rape victim was almost to the door before he said casually, "Bailey, I'll need dinner, please. Meat. See if you can find me some alcohol."

He didn't specify whether or not he expected her to bring it to him. Would she? Could she? Better question was whether she would risk having one of the villagers she was here to aid and protect going through this, too.

 

[MissyDemeanors]

Leaving his location she didn't look at him. The man outside his door said nothing. She could hear a woman off in the distance begging someone to stop and crying. She couldn't help it. She covered her ears and ran to the first place she could. They'd sepperated the woman and children from the men. They'd pulled some of the younger boys and we're having them stay with the soldiers. They only recruited the young.

The woman of the village were kind and didn't blame her for the 6th being taken. Bailey blamed herself though. They were concerned about his seed in her but she insisted she was baron. She had an IUD in but she didn't feel like explaining. She chose not to think about diseases he might be carrying.

She cleaned up and saw there was minimal damage she just felt raw. Hearing the other woman crying and even screaming in the night Bailey knew he had been kind. She had cried her fill while the others gathered meat and alcohol.

Bailey wanted to run, to forget the village but she knew even if she could escape she'd never forgive herself. Everyone was just accepting their fate even the hushed talk that they would most likely kill the villagers after they got their use from them didn't bring any of them to run.

The soldiers were split into groups. Some circling the permiter, some guarding the prisoners and others taking a break. They rotated often and with out complaint. They were bonded by war to eachother. Respect and survival had gotten them this far. Some didn't even seem to speak the same dialect from what she could tell.

After she gathered the food and drink she returned to Joseph. She had on a wrap around her waist that went to he ankles. One of the woman were sewing her pants to repair the tear. She sat the tray down and looked him in the face "I'd like to leave." She shook with anger and even fear but she didnt want him seeing any of that. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction. She just wanted to escape his presence.

 

[Tony2015]

Joseph was dressed in his dungaree trousers, boots, and a tight fitting tee shirt when Bailey returned. His side arm was in its holster, though his rifle was leaning against the hut's wall. He always kicked the clip out and put it back in his ammo belt on his waist when he was around so many people who might be interested in using it against him.

"I'd like to leave," Bailey told him almost even before finishing her duty to him.

"Not yet," he told her in a calm voice. "We have things to discuss."

Joseph gesture her to sit, and when she didn't do so immediately, he stepped forward and shoved her into the old, rickety, hand made chair. He stared down into her eyes and said firmly but not necessarily angrily, "You're going to learn to do what I ask of you ... what I tell you to do ... or a great deal worse is going to happen to you and these people before we're done here. Do you understand?"

As Joseph was finishing making Bailey understand her situation, he caught sight of her long, lean legs. They'd become exposed by the way he pushed her down, and in an instant he was thinking about parting them again for more personal pleasure. As she covered herself again, Joseph looked her over yet again. She was more beautiful than he'd honestly noticed before. The kind of girl with whom any man would spent time trying to get to know and, ultimately, get naked. Of course, Joseph had neither the time to do so nor the need.

"We are going to be here two, maybe three days," he explained for a second time. "The villagers have things they need to do, for themselves and for us, so I'm going to make it possible for them to do that."

He went on to explain that the children would be kept in a hut under guard while the adults were allowed to continue their work in the fields and jungle. "Any treachery, and an entire generation of innocents will be gunned down without a tear from me. Understand?"

He went on to explain that the volunteers would be compensated for their services. He took a pouch from his pack and tossed it onto the mat floor by Bailey's feet. "There's a years worth of earnings in there for ten jungle bunnies. Distribute it as you see fit."

He went on to explain more about the resources and taxes his men would be taking, as compensation for their liberating the village from the previous paramilitary group.

Joseph had been looking to Bailey off and on, but now turned to face her directly. "I will need you to stay here with me tonight, Bailey. Bring what you need with you. This will be your new home until I leave. Understand?"

 

[MissyDemeanors]

Bailey was fixated on keeping her wrap closed after she'd seen him looking at her leg. He didn't need to push her she'd have moved. He just didn't like that she didn't hop to it.

As Joseph talked she couldn't help but wonder if he was honest. She felt like she was talking to a snake. He'd offered money for the "jungle bunnies" than referenced taxes. He said they'd only be there 2 or 3 days but the other soldiers weren't giving that impression. He offered to let them work but threatened to gun down children if they ran.

She couldn't trust anything he said. She didn't move just nodded her head when she believed she was supposed to. The money would go to the whole village it would be used to hopefully fill the food that the soldiers were taking. When he told her to bring her stuff to bed him that night she couldn't keep quiet.

"What little I brought your men have already commandeered . I have nothing here because I was just delivering food and water your men have already consumed. Our peace corp group disbanded near by and I just got lucky enough to run in to you. I'm staying because it is right." She kept her gaze steady "It is right to stand against what is wrong." She gulped second guessing her need to put him straight "It have nothing to get."

 

[Tony2015]

"Our peace corp group disbanded near by," Bailey told him, adding with just enough venom to sting him but not have him bite back, "and I just got lucky enough to run in to you. I'm staying because it is right."

Joseph almost responded You're staying because it is my will, but he chose instead to only go back to picking through his things. As with the other men -- soldiers always on the move, whether by their own choice or because of imminent attack -- Joseph would only remove from his pack what he needed at any one particular time. You never knew if you were going to suddenly find yourself in need of disappearing into the jungle; and if you did, you rarely had the opportunity to check around for your toothbrush or spare ammo clips.

"It is right to stand against what is wrong," Bailey said.

Joseph turned and studied her. She was an interesting woman. He was already realizing that. There were two kinds of foreigners typically found down here: the kind that ran at the first sign of danger because they either had nothing to prove or didn't care to try so; and the kind that insisted on standing their ground even if it meant their likely demise. The former typically evacuated as soon as they reached safety and rarely ever returned. The latter also rarely returned, but that was typically because they never left the jungle alive.

She finished, "It have nothing to get."

"Fine," Joseph said, not really listening or caring. He wagged a finger toward the wooden bowls of food and skin bags of drink. "Eat and drink." When she didn't immediately do as instructed, Joseph turned to face her and, in a calm voice, told her, "I can't trust that the food isn't poisoned, so..."

There were more things in the jungle that would kill you than save you, if you only knew for what you were searching. Joseph was Commander of the GNP only because the first man chosen to lead it had eaten a jungle apple with a poisoned razor blade hidden in it. Right before the eyes of his men, including a then-young Joseph, the man's mouth foamed up, his eyes bulged, his larynx closed up, and he suffocated. If he was going to die in this God forbidden hell of a jungle, Joseph wanted it to be while he was unloading his rifle on an advancing horde of government troops.

He chose a dried fruit related to dates, crossed to stand close to Bailey, and held it out in front him. "So, you are going to try one of everything brought to me ... drink from every cup and bag ... and if necessary get fat and drunk doing so."



The day and evening that followed was for Bailey pretty much similar to her first few minutes with Joseph: one order after another and, if she resisted, the appropriate commands, force, and punishment. By the time the sun was threatening to disappear behind the rain forested hills to the west, Bailey had washed his clothes, performed some minor repairs on his gear, and more. With the exception of when he sent her on errands, Bailey wasn't allowed our of Joseph's sight.

And through it all, Joseph's yearning for the young woman only grew. His first orgasm in her had been more punishment of her than pleasure for him. But, he was going to correct that. He met with all twelve of his men shortly before darkness arrived to lay out instructions for patrols and such. At some point during the late morning and early afternoon -- typically after they enjoyed the pleasures of one of the volunteers -- each of the guerrillas had gotten some shut eye. Now, a third of them would take up lookout positions in the jungle, a third would watch the villagers from inside the little settlement, and a third would sleep yet again. The watches would alternate to ensure that each was well rested.

Joseph didn't stand night time watches unless he wanted or if the tactical situation required it. Tonight, though, he was going to catch up on some other badly needed business.

"Take your clothes off," he said calmly to Bailey just before dark while she was mending a pair of his socks like something out of an 18th century Norman Rockwell painting, not that Joseph knew who the hell Norman Rockwell was. When she looked his way, he told her without waiting for action, "I'd like to do this the easy way, but ... that's up to you."

 

[MissyDemeanors]

"Take your clothes off,"

She was just finishing a gulp of his drink. Some part of her hoped it was poison the "volunteers" she'd gathered were going through hell and she felt terrible. She hesitated at first the stood and unwrapped her skirt.

She stood in front of him with no bottoms on. She left her shirt and bra on. He didn't need to see her naked to get his rocks off. She had waited hand and foot on him. The village seemed to be running as normal with an undercurrent of terror.

She felt her own terror as she stood before him half naked "where do you want me." She was proud of herself for not crying. She was just happy he had cleaned up a by more. His stench had finally lessened.

 

[Tony2015]

(OOC: I am going to make an assumption that she doesn't shave every day here in the jungle. If, however, you want her to be, I can change this asap.)



Joseph's gaze dropped to Bailey's groin as she shed the wrap. He hadn't realized that she was naked underneath it. Her bush was trimmed a bit but not shaved. It hadn't occurred to Joseph that it would be. They were, after all, in the middle of the jungle. He wondered whether she had been shaved and it was growing out, or whether she trimmed it frequently. Her legs were shaved, but he assumed that was because she wore shorts often here in the heat and humidity. Some of the village bunnies shaved their legs. Joseph hadn't really cared too much one way or the other, but to see Bailey's long, smooth, fair skinned, athletic legs after so many short stubby, hairy, dark skinned ones was a nice and exciting change.

"Where do you want me."

Joseph hesitated a moment. He wanted to see all of her, not just her bottom half. But he wasn't in the mood to ask. Coincidentally, he thought Bailey needed another refresher course about doing exactly and precisely what he asked. He moved to his gear sitting against the wall and pulled his big, scary looking combat knife from its sheath. He walked slowly toward Bailey until he was just a foot from her.

"Hold still."

Joseph said it casually, as if he was holding a fly swatter made of a coat hanger and window screen mesh, not a ten inch blade made of razor sharp steel. He reached out and took her elbow tightly, ensuring she understood his demand to hold still. He held the knife out before her, turning it slowly until it reflected the flames of the small pit fire into her eyes, one after another. He moved the knife forward until the cold steel was pressing against the skin of her cleavage. Again, Joseph warned softly, "Hold still."

In a flash, he turned the knife over, causing the tip to slip between the cloth and her breasts, and -- with the blade away from Bailey's flesh -- he pushed it downward. The result was that the razor sharp blade easily cut her blouse right down the middle. When the knife reached her waist, the shirt fell open to reveal her young breasts behind a small, sexy bra. He hungrily ogled her tits for a moment, then lifted the blade up, pressed the cold back of the knife to her just below the bra, and lifted. Again, with ease, the blade sliced through the cloth, sending the cups tensed about her breasts popping outward, exposing her.

Again, Joseph ogled Bailey for a moment. He lifted the knife up to his side, sliced it downward, and sunk it through the mat and plank floor with a thunk. He looked into Bailey's eyes and finally answered her question, "Flat on your back."

 

[MissyDemeanors]

"Hold still."

He said it for the second time and Bailey thought that was silly of him considering she wasn't even breathing any more. The knife was massive even in his colossal hands. He had grabbed her arm. She had been contemplating running and wondered if he saw it in her eyes.

She whimpered as the cold blade touched her skin. She was proud of herself for not crying but she was ready to pass out. When he sliced through her shirt she realized what the was about. Even having it go against her again to cut her bra she was starting to feel angry.

Her breast exposed now he ogled her and she couldn't help but hate him for it. She wanted to tell him he didn't have to do that. It almost came out of her mouth but her eyes took a glance at his knife. He could, and would, gut her if she didn't start following orders. She slid the shreds off and dropped them on the floor "I have no other clothes with me."

She tried to keep the loathing out of her voice and make the more of a fact. Her panties had been stained by blood and cum and she'd just tossed them in disgust. Her shorts were probably repaired but she hadn't been able to leave to get them. Now she'd have to borrow someone's clothes or just walk in a wrap the rest of the time.

When she didn't move right away she saw him get angry. She threw her hands up for him to wait then made a show of getting out of her shoes and socks. She moved quickly laying on the bed. She looked away from him. She covered herself at first then forced her hands at her side worried she might actually get her arms cut off.

She closed her eyes. The only time she'd laid out naked before so a guy Could stare at her was for her ex. He was an artist and his probing eyes didn't feel like she was being violated the way Josephs did. Her ex was the one that convinced her natural but trimmed was what really woman should have below. He said she should be proud to be a woman. Little did she know she'd resent being a woman as much as she did now.

She tried to calm her breathing. Her adrenaline high was slowing after he had approached her with his knife. She glanced at him waiting for him to stop staring and get it over with. He was massive compared to her. She felt weak and she hated it .

 

[Tony2015]

After stripping yet again, Joseph waited no time before crawling between Bailey's thighs and getting inside her. She was, again, tight as hell, but after working a bit more of him inside over the course of half a dozen thrusts, his body was soon enough pounding against hers.

It wasn't an It's been too long so thirty seconds'll do me kind of fuck this time. Bailey's pussy was warm and wet and tight and inviting, and she could have caused Joseph to erupt early ... if he'd allowed it. But he wanted this one to last, so every time he felt his body heading toward that point where orgasm would be inevitable, he slowed.

A casual observer would have easily been able to tell that this was not an act of love. Bailey kept her head to the side most of the time, and refused to open her eyes at all. And for his part, Joseph began the rape by supported his weight upon his outstretched arms, which were doing double duty by holding Bailey's wrists to the simple bed; and he only released his grip on her and supported his weight more easily upon the bed when he was sure she wasn't going to fight in any way. There was no kissing, of course. That would have been absurd. And there was no conversation or complimentary words, either loving or nasty. It was nothing more than Joseph thrusting his cock into Bailey, taking his pleasure of Bailey's incredible hole.

He knew it was time to end it when he saw the tears begin to sneak out of one of Bailey's tightly clamped eyes. He changed the way he was thrusting inside her -- deeper, harder, faster -- and in just a dozen or so hits, he grunted out loudly to the wonder of his cock leaping inside her. His heart pounded, from both the euphoria and the exertion, and his deep breaths washed down upon the young woman's face and hair. Joseph remained inside Bailey for two, three, maybe four more minutes as he simply enjoyed the delight of his climax.

It had been so long since he enjoyed a woman, and so much longer since he'd enjoyed one who hated him so thoroughly as he was sure Bailey was now. And it was that last part that made the fuck so much more satisfying. Why was that? Why did he -- why did so many men -- find it so much more incredible to force themselves upon a woman who didn't want them than one that did? Joseph remembered once seeing a cartoon of a caveman dragging a cavewoman behind him by her long hair, and wondered Is it just the way we are?

When finally his heart was returning to a somewhat normal beat, Joseph pulled out of Bailey and stood. He looked down upon her for a moment, then crossed back to the bucket of lukewarm water that Bailey had changed out after his morning bath. He used the rag to clean his groin yet again, watching her as he did. Then, he dug into his bag and returned to the bed. Bailey wasn't looking at Joseph, so he just sat next to her, rolled her away onto her side, grasped an arm, and slapped a shackle around her wrist. With another metallic clink, the cuffs with the foot long chain had Bailey secured to one of the poles that supported the hut's structure.

 

[MissyDemeanors]

She felt him crawling up between her legs and she was terrified. Keeping her eyes closed she whimpered as he first entered her. She spread her legs far to allow him access and save her pain. She gasped when he was finally wet enough to bury in her. Her wrist hurt as he pushed his body weight on them to pin her down.

She got some relief when he moved his hands off her. She wanted to scream at him she could feel him swell and pause. She knew he was holding back he loved watching her suffer and he was trying to prolong it.

His cock spread her more than any cock had before. Add to that how hard it was for her to get wet the sex was unbearable. She began to cry when she felt he was drawing closer to cumming.

Her whole body jerked with his thrusts then he came. He filled her and she thought it was done. Instead he remained on her, his breath was disgusting and hot. When he pulled out she felt his cum drip down her ass. She felt disgusting and Couldn't bring herself to move.

She felt the cuff and looked at it scared. "Why?!" She jerked her hand upset but he said nothing. She was impressed she could keep her mouth shut. Once he left the hut she started cussing and yelling.

As he did his rounds she tried pulling her hand free of the cuff. She felt like her hand was going to break. She tried reaching the bath water to clean herself but she was just too short. She hated feeling so filthy.

She couldn't reach anything. He came back hours later. She was kneeling on the floor crying. There was a puddle of cum beneath her. She understood why he had cuffed her. She had been ready to run. She jerked her hand and threw the pillow at him. It was the only thing she could get her hand on "let me go you bastard"


He laughed at her and it made her furious. He undressed slowly. She shook her head. "Please no. Please just let me go." He said nothing to her. She just watched as his dick swelled for her. He grabbed her by her hair and forced her to walk to the bed.

He was so strong he could nearly throw her clear over the bed. On her hands and knees he forced her to crawl to the center. He pushed on her back and forced her on her stomach. She said nothing as he began to fuck her again.

He started fucking her. She bit her lip as he filled her. This time his cum was her lubricant. He wasn't gentle but it was easier than the last few times. He fucked her silently. But as he drove deeper she cried out.

He groaned in satisfaction to her noise. His hips started slapping against he r harder. With the angle it actually felt nice which she hated. She tried to focus on who was fucking her and how he enjoyed her suffering but with no friction it felt good.

She felt him drawing closer. When he swelled she thought she might cum for a mintue. She was happy when he came. It saved her the shame she'd have felt had she climaxed. Again he stayed in her for longer than he should. When he was done he grunted and rolled over. Just a few mintues later she was listening to his snoring. She whispered while he slept "I hope you die."

 

[Tony2015]

Earlier:

Joseph emerged from the hut, listening to Bailey erupt in screams and profanity. He carried his .45 in his utility belt and his AK-47 over his back as he adjusted his belt and buttoned his shirt. Anyone looking his way would know he'd either just awoken or fucked.

The mayhem behind Joseph drew the attention of his lieutenant. As the former neared the latter, Desoto asked, "How is she?"

Joseph looked to his Lieutenant, who was wearing a slight smirk. No other man in the unit would have the nerve to ask him about his private doings. But he and Desoto had been friends before the GNP or even before PLP. In fact, when he considered the people he'd once known and now knew for certain were still breathing, Dee was his oldest friend. Joseph looked out over the camp, donned that same sly smirk, and answered cryptically, "She's American."

Desoto laughed loudly. "That good, huh?"

Joseph joined him in the humor for a moment before asking for a Sit Report. As Desoto glanced in various directions, he explained, "Two sniper-lookout teams in the jungle there ... and there. Another in the hut second back from the trail head."

They'd learned years ago never to put perimeter watches in the outer most locations, as those were the first to be hit by RPGs or grenades during a surprise attack. Desoto continued, "The rest are racked out."

"With company?" Joseph asked, wondering whether those men catching a few Zs were alone or with warm bodies. He got a mixed answer. He asked about how the volunteers were dealing with their new duties, again getting a mixed answer. "And the rest of the village?"

"They're being very cooperative," Desoto answered. He glanced back toward the hut from which Joseph had emerged, then looked to his Commander. "I don't understand it, but ... they are seriously concerned about your American. I don't think I've seen this level of concern for a Peacie before."

Joseph checked his weapons' chambers to ensure they were loaded as he responded, "Maybe she was doing all of them."

Desoto burst out in laughter, slapping his Commander and friend on the shoulder as they headed forth to do a personal inspection of the perimeter...



Now:

Joseph rolled off Bailey, his glistening cock waggling back and forth over his kinky pubic bush. His heart pounding in his chest as it rose and fell. The American had felt so fucking good. He hadn't realized how badly he missed a tight pussy. Around these parts, by the time a woman was of a suitable age for such activity -- consensually or not -- she was more often than not already married with two or three jungle rats running about her feet. Joseph didn't know Bailey's sexual history, but he had a feeling that he'd been the only man in her recently.

"Lay down," he commanded in a low volume.

Bailey was still in an awkward position from his fucking her from behind. He used one hand to urge her forcefully into a laying position beside him, then pulled her tight up against his side. She was warm, and while he didn't need a human electric blanket now, he knew that later in the dark it would begin to get chilly. He turned to his side and, without a lot of gentleness, forced her into a spooning position and pulled the thin wool blanket over the two of them. Bailey's upper arm was still shackled to the post as Joseph pulled her tight against him.

In a moment, he was out, having not heard her wish for his future...



Joseph flinched awake at a familiar sound. He found the familiar silhouetted of Desoto in the doorway, the red of early morning behind him. The lieutenant whispered the need for the Commander outside, then -- getting a nod -- left, closing the door behind him.

Joseph rose to an elbow. Bailey was on her back next to him, passed out. He smirked as he pulled the blanket down slowly, exposing her tits. He stared for a moment, feeling his cock again growing. Her breasts were so young, firm, and inviting. He wanted to lean over and take a nipple -- now growing in the sudden cold -- into his mouth, but Joseph knew if he did, he'd have to fuck her, too. And he didn't really have the time.

He slipped out of the bed, donned his clothes and belt, and was about to depart when he heard the gently stirring Bailey jingle the shackles. He contemplated the past 24 hours, then pulled the keys for the cuffs from his pocket. He was about to unshackle her wrist, then thought better of it. Instead, he unlocked the end around the pole, then clasped it to the young woman's other wrist. She stirred, but was still asleep when he emerged into the sun-reddened morning of the camp.



Joseph left instructions with one of his men that Bailey was to be allowed free roaming ability of the camp, so long as she was under constant watch. Joseph wouldn't have blamed the woman for running, even alone into the thick jungle. He didn't want that to happen. He was enjoying her too much. Besides, she had value other than as a warm, wet place to park his dick. She might very well turn out to be worth more to Joseph and the GNP than all of the other resources the village could provide.

Before he, Desoto, and two other men headed out for a perimeter patrol, though, Joseph told the soldier, "Don't let her go to the creek to bathe."

The man has smirk, knowing that the Commander wanted to see the American naked in the water. His smirk quickly disappeared when he saw the sharp look from the nearby Desoto. The man popped to attention, responding respectfully, "Yes, Commander."



Six hours later, as the sun was rising high above them, Joseph was suddenly standing over the busy Bailey. He took her by the elbow, lifting her to her feet and moving her forcefully toward the communal hut. He ignored her reluctance and complaints, pushing her through the door and commanding, "Get what you need to clean up. We're going to the creek. I need a real bath ... and so do you."

 

[MissyDemeanors]

Bailey's whole body hurt. Even if the sex had been consensual she'd still be hurting. The bed they shared was only slightly better than the floor. It had taken her hours to fall asleep. She'd listened to him snore and each time she'd wiggle free from his grasp he'd grab her in his sleep.


She had only been asleep a few hours when he left. Her eyes stung and for just one split second she thought she was back at the peace corp barraks. Her arms and wrist hurt. She had laid on them funny pressed against her binds.

She tried not to over think the fact he had been carrying them with him. Her attire was now just the wrap. She had used the wash cloth as best she could but her body still wreaked of sex, sweat and dirt. Josephs men allowed her free roam but they had their comments. The woman offered her clothes but she declined. She thought about the giant knife in his hand. If he wanted her naked she'd rather be able to just slip on and off the wrap and be done with it then take the chance of having something else cut off.

Everyone seemed to be fine. Everything was moving smoothly and if It weren't for patrols Bailey would almost swear nothing was different. What was happening was just accepted and that devastated her.

Everyone had remedies they offered her. Some to ease pain, others to be blissfully unaware of what was happening. She considered it but passed fearing what repercussions that would bring.

The sun was barely risen when she got back to the hut. The village was small and she had no desire to be gawked at any longer then she had to. She was holding the shreds of her clothes when he came. Before she could say or do anything he grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her along.

She tried to pry his hand loose when he spoke "Get what you need to clean up. We're going to the creek. I need a real bath ... and so do you."

She did need a bath as much as him. She didn't need to be forced. He wasn't waiting. He pulled and she nearly lost her wrap. Out the door and Josephs men watched as if they knew something she didnt.

Josephs strides were too big for Bailey and she kept tripping at one point he dragged her "STOP!" She said it firmly digging in her heels in the dirt. Her knee was bleeding from falling. He stopped giving her a questioning look. "I'll go willingly please just let me walk on my own." She held up her hand but brought it back quickly when her wrap started to slide. "I swear I won't run."


She wouldnt. She'd never survive even if she could out run him. She was practically naked and had no clue which direction to head in for help. She wanted to be clean and she wanted him to trust her. She thought this was the best way to get both of those things.