6 comments/ 97394 views/ 36 favorites A Girl Behind Enemy Lines Ch. 01 By: loving_karma Megan tried to stay calm as the piston-mounted dildo began to throb and hum. Pvt. Nickels turned the control dial slowly and the massive silicone phallus began to pump in and out of her vagina. The shaft was nine inches long and three inches in diameter. She hung by her wrists from the ceiling fan, her toes just barely touching the ground in her two-inch high heels. She wore nothing aside from the shoes, her earrings, a few rings and bracelets and the choke collar fastened around her neck. One of her ankles was tied to a bedpost eight feet away. Her other ankle was tied to the hanger rack in her closet on the opposite side of the room. The ropes were stretched taut and her legs were spread uncomfortably far apart, remaining just barely close enough for her to remain standing. She stared ahead blankly in disbelief while the soldiers invading her home subjected her to arrest, a summary trial and a speedy sentencing while they stripped, fondled and ogled her body. Megan was only nineteen, an innocent college student on break after her freshman year. Nobody would have expected her to have a clear grasp of the local military situation. She knew there was a civil war in progress, but she had no idea that the front lines had shifted so rapidly nor that she was suddenly on the wrong side of them. Megan was a skinny, athletic brunette with shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. She was proud of her modest but hard-earned suntan and her firm, well-muscled legs. She had played basketball in high school but these days she mostly kept in shape by running. She had broken things off with her boyfriend six months prior and she was practically starved for sex though she rarely thought about it consciously. "Read it." Pfc Fleming thumped his cat o'nine tails against his thigh impatiently as he held a sheet of paper in front of Megan's face. She was so dazed she could barely focus her eyes, much less make any sense of the absurd things scrawled on the paper before her. Her mouth gaped open as she stammered. "I... I" A loud thwack resounded through the bedroom and down the hallway. The multiple thongs of Fleming's whip broke her skin with a single stroke, leaving several bleeding cuts on the naked flesh of her breasts. "YEEAARRRGHHHH OHHHHH ohhhhhh ohhhhhhohhhh!!" Megan trembled and moaned for well over two minutes. "Get ahold of yourself, slut! We just need you to read this out loud for us! One quick read, and I won't have to whip you again. Come on, we don't have all fucking day!" The piston-mounted dildo thrust up and down steadily, violating her cunt as she wailed and struggled to retain balance and ease the strain on her sore, aching wrists. Megan truly had no idea about the nature of the strange mechanical contraption the soldiers had brought into her home until the very moment it was inside her pussy. In the back of her mind she had known that rape was a foregone conclusion from the moment the troops burst through her kitchen door. She failed to realize however that rape was the least of her worries. Tears streamed down her face as Fleming's words began to register in her mind. She didn't want to get hit again. Her tits were burning like fire from the cuts left by Fleming's cruel leather disciplinary instrument. Pvt. Nickels remained at the sex machine's controls as he observed Fleming's efforts to persuade the girl to speak. He turned up the dial and lit up a cigarette. Fleming sighed and raised the lash, keeping the paper close to Megan's face. The poor young girl jerked with panic and terror in response to Fleming's movements and the sudden acceleration of the piston pounding in and out of her pussy. She stared intently at the paper and began to force the written words out of her mouth in desperate, halting gasps. Cpl Barrington adjusted his squad's camera as it rested on its tripod. "I... Hello master, m... my name is Megan Warner, and I'm a filthy, horny little slut! P... please fuck me raw master, sir! I... I w..want you to fuck me hard and fast in all of my holes! I... I love sucking cock and I love..." She hesitated for seven seconds. The soldiers couldn't tell if she was choking on her lines or simply trying to catch her breath. The lash fell on her tits again. The crack sounded like a muffled gunshot. "OHHHHHHHHAAAGHH MMMM!!! RRRGHHHHHH OH HO HUUUUUh ooohhhh!!" Fleming wasn't satisfied. "Please just try and be a little bit convincing. Is that too difficult for you, you stupid fucking whore? Jesus Christ." He spat in her face disgustedly before putting down the script in order to light up a cigarette. He puffed away disinterestedly for a moment before placing the cigarette in his left hand, then putting his left arm around Megan's shoulders. "I think there's a lot of promise in you, Megan." he spoke in a confidential tone, exhaling smoke into her face. He tapped his cigarette with his fingers, knocking hot ashes onto Megan's neck, shoulder and breast. Megan winced and jerked her body helplessly in his embrace. "I wouldn't pay for you, but you're going to make some lucky platoon very happy. You might be worth a whole carton of cigs, maybe more. But you won't be worth a fucking breath of secondhand if you make us put a lot of marks on you before you've even started your training. So please, start acting like a big girl and... you know... actually do your part to comfort and please these weary troops. It will be your job from here on out, and the sooner you start obeying us the easier your life will be. You understand?" He removed his arm from around her neck, took another drag and blew the smoke into Megan's eyes. They stung and watered but she tried her best to focus on the script as he picked it up and displayed it to her once more. "The standard acknowledgment is at the bottom. We say anything to you, you say this line back to us. Well? Fucking say it, bitch!" Megan narrowed her eyes and tried to make out the letters through the haze of smoke. "Y... yes master, sir. Th.. thank you master, sir! I live to serve and pleasure you!" Fleming, Nickels and Barrington chuckled together. Fleming beamed with a smug glow of triumph. "Finally, the bitch is starting to learn her place! Now let's start over, from the beginning. Read, cunt! And don't forget the 'yes, sir!'" Megan returned to her task obediently and without hesitation. "Yes master, sir. Thank you master, sir. I live to serve and pleasure you." She continued from the top of the page. "Hello master! My name is Megan Warner, and I'm a filthy, horny little slut! Please f... fuck me r-raw master, sir! I want... want you to fuck me hard and fast in all of my holes! I love sucking cock and I love licking balls. I also enjoy eating pussy in front of an audience, so if it pleases you to watch me get another girl off then I'm your girl! I also love being degraded, humilated and drenched in cum!" Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as she read the filthy, barely comprehensible script. She knew that she was going to have to go through with all of the activities she was describing, and she could only begin to imagine what else lay in store for her. As her mind wandered over the prospect of future torments she failed to notice just how deeply and intensely aroused her body was becoming. The mechanical dildo pumped out of her dangling body with steadily increasing velocity as she teetered on her heels and tiptoes. The soldiers could tell from the distant look in her eyes that she was curious about carrying out the promises she was making. She was practically looking forward to being gang-raped in the mouth or even pleasuring another lady for the amusement of her tormentors. Nickels scribbled some notes onto a pad. He looked at Fleming for an instant. "I think we can put this one down as 'curious', Nick. Priority five. She'll lick pussy tonight, but she probably won't be ready to dom her first bitch for two or three weeks." Megan had no idea what they were talking about, but she understood "She'll lick pussy tonight" well enough. The sex toy jerked in and out of her cunt ever faster as Nickels twiddled the dial. Fleming put out his cigarette, reached for a stack of papers and presented another sheet for Megan to read. "Alright, good girl. Hope you've got a good memory, because you're going to have to recite those lines every day without a script to help you. But since you're finally catching on, I'll tell you what: I think you're ready for the disciplinary script. This one is a lot of fun." Megan stared at the paper in front of her in a bewildered daze as the shaft wiggled in and out of her pussy on its mechanical appendage. Loud squishing, sobbing sounds filled the room as the machine plowed through her dripping wet pussy. The poor girl had only had sex with four partners over the course of her lifetime, and none of them could hold a candle to the device now wracking her body with quivering spasms of pleasure. For all she could tell it was thicker than all of their cocks put together, yet in this stressful situation it was causing her relatively mild discomfort. The poor young student was rapidly approaching climax. Her overstimulated clit and labia tingled with excitement as she read the degrading, demeaning and poorly written script. "P.... please discipline me, master! I am a filthy, shameless whore and I am too stupid to comprehend morality. P... pain is the only language I understand, master... sir! Please... educate me by wh-whipping my cunt and my tits! The pain will make me horn... horny... b... but I... p..." She choked and sobbed for an instant. Fleming reached for a leather riding crop. The instrument wasn't nearly as intimidatingly barbaric as the cat o'nine tails, but Megan would learn to respect its sting. "but I.. pro-promise n...not to come without permission, master... sir." There were plenty of unread sentences remaining on the paper, but the soldiers decided that she had fully earned the right to experience their discipline. The riding crop slapped loudly against Megan's clit. She yelped and leaned backwards, her cunt still impaled on the machine-mounted sex toy. Her eyes darted a few lines down on the paper. He struck her crotch three more times in quick succession while she stammered the appropriate (and mandatory) response. "Thank you very much for disciplining me, master... sir! I love it when you... when you whip my pussy! I love feeling the sting of leather against my clitoris when you flog me because it makes me so wet and horny!" The forced lines were so bafflingly stupid that she failed to realize that she was in fact telling the truth. The painful but bearable stinging sensation in the most tender and sensitive part of her body somehow rendered the rough mechanical fucking even more pleasurable. Her clitoris peeped out as if trying to eagerly greet the riding-crop in mid-swing. Her vaginal fluids flowed freely and her pussy was dripping her body's natural lubricant onto the floor beneath her. "Good... keep going!" Fleming shouted as he continued to strike at her crotch. Her bare, exposed cunt lips tingled with delight and expectation as she pouted and moaned in helpless, humiliating ecstasy. "Ughhhh! Oh! OW! Yeow!" She yelped as the soldier suddenly began to strike harder and with increasing eagerness. He kept the paper by his side, hoping Megan would begin to make progress toward memorizing the filth she would hereafter be forced to recite loudly and shamelessly every single day of her life. As the rain of blows faltered for an instant she caught her breath and repeated her lines. "Thank you so much for disciplining me master, sir! I love it when you whip my pussy! I love having my clit flogged because it makes me wet and horny!" It wasn't perfect, but she was making progress. Megan kept her eyes forward, but if she looked down she would have been amazed at how red and swollen her pubic mound and pussy lips were becoming. It would be a long time before she could bear to look at her own body during disciplinary sessions. Soon she would be picking up quite a few lasting scars and bruises. "Beautiful!" Fleming exclaimed as he returned the crop to a position affixed to his belt. "Care to finish her off, boys?" Nickels adjusted the machine's dial to setting number eight. This wasn't the maximum setting, but nine and ten generally offered more thrust than any girl particularly needed. Eight was enough to leave a girl's whole lower body numb after five to seven minutes of riding. Nickels and Barrington rose from their seats and approached the helpless nude girl as she dangled from the ceiling fan. She wailed as the machine assaulted her vagina, cycling in and out of her with the fury of a machine gun. Her legs went limp and she dangled helplessly by the wrists. Fleming hoped silently that she didn't tear the fan out of the ceiling. The house would still be worth quite a bit if the army managed to leave it intact. Fleming took a seat while his two comrades began to fondle and grope their victim. Megan continued to scream helplessly under the machine's assault. "Ohhhh oh ho ho oohhh whooaaaaaa! Mmmmmm oohhhhh mmm mmm mmpph mpphh mmmooohwoooow OHHH OHHHH WHOA OHHHHH OOOOOOOHHH MMM OHHHH!!!" Barrington flicked at her clitoris with his fingers, rubbing gently at first. He crept slowly downward, massaging her cunt lips and using the pussy juice oozing around her hole and the shaft that penetrated it to make his fingers slick and damp. Then while Nickels toyed with her labia Barrington returned his fingers to her clit, rubbing progressively harder and faster. After two and a half minutes of probing fingers and brutal mechanical pounding, nineteen-year-old Megan Warner's body gave in and she shook violently from a powerful orgasm. "Suck their fingers and lick them clean, slut." Fleming barked from his chair while Barrington and Nickels took turns shoving their hands into her mouth. She accepted them without a struggle, even licking gently with her tongue in a feeble attempt to demonstrate eagerness. She knew that she belonged to them. In the back of her mind she understood that when these men became tired of her, whoever ended up in charge of her could only be far worse. His fingers soaked in Megan's vaginal fluids and saliva, Pvt. Nickels returned to his seat at the piston machine's controls. He lowered the dial to two and the shaft's velocity dropped instantly. The dildo now moved so slowly that it took three seconds to plunge into Megan's cunt and pull back out again. The art of operating the machine was a subtle, refined craft. Nickels' objective was to tease his subject with the hope of respite without allowing her arousal to diminish. With the machine still inside her she wouldn't dare to relax. Fleming rose from his seat again. He had another sheet of paper in his hands. He pressed it roughly into Megan's face before pulling it back just far enough for her to read. He tapped his foot impatiently and she knew she had to speak again. She scanned the lines and cleared her sore, overused throat. "Th.. thank you for letting me come, master. I am sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I am such a lewd, wanton, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body. Please punish me, master. I long to be disciplined and I promise that I will not come again without permission master, sir." Fleming placed his hand under her jaw and caressed her cheek gently. He brushed a few strands of hair out of Megan's eye. Then he pulled his hand back and slapped her across the jaw. There was an important lesson Megan needed to learn. "I'm not sure if you got it, baby. Start repeating it and don't stop." "Thank you for letting me come, master! I am sorry that I came without permission! I am sorry that I am such a lewd, wanton, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body master, sir." The absurd lines stung her pride more painfully with each repetition. She hated this part of the experience far more than the lashing or the begging. She understood exactly what message the men were trying to drive home: her body had failed her and now she had to bear responsibility, apologize and accept punishment for a bodily function that was hardly within her control. It was at this moment that she truly began to understand the concept of shame for the first time. Fleming and his comrades continued to stare intently. When he told her not to stop he really meant it. "Thank you for letting me come, master. I am sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I'm such a lewd, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body master, sir." Nickels slowly began to ramp up the speed once more. Megan's soft, quaking voice began to subside against the rising volume of the piston as her pussy endured another round of violation. The stares of her captors indicated to her that she wouldn't be allowed to stop speaking just yet. "Thank you for letting me come master, sir. I am very sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I'm such a lewd, wanton whore. I am sorry that I can't control my slutty little body, master... sir!" Nickels adjusted the speed to setting number four, or roughly two cycles per second. Fleming unlocked her handcuffs and caught her as she tumbled forward. He gripped her by her hair as she continued to ramble. "Than... thank you for letting me come master, sir. I said thank you... Please... thank you for letting me come, master! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Fleming gripped her weak, tired arms and forced them behind her back, cuffing her hands together again. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Sorry for what, cunt?" "F.. for coming, master." "Just for coming?" "F-for coming without permission, master- sir." "Do you promise to tell us when you're about to come from now on?" "Yes, master." He slapped her hard across the face and she shrieked. "AIEEE!! I... I mean, I promise to tell you when I'm about to come, master sir!" "And do you promise to ask us for permission?" "I... I promise to ask you for permission every time I come, master... sir!" "There's a good girl. I think you're just about ready to get us off." He let go of the girl and she sank to her knees. She could tell from the silence that he expected her to say something. He slapped her in the face once more. "Aaaaahh ow! Please, master! How may I serve you? How may I pleasure you? Please, just tell me what you want!" Fleming just glared at her. "I... mean.... please tell me what you want, master, sir!" Fleming's expression softened. He motioned to Barrington, who produced from his backpack a large plastic ring with two leather straps attached to it. He handed the apparatus to Fleming, who strode behind Megan's kneeling figure and shoved the ring into her mouth, fixing the straps from behind before she had a chance to react. Now her jaw was stretched open painfully, her teeth straining against the curve of the ring that forced them apart. She knew now that she was going to have to suck cock, and she dreaded that she would be forced to do so for a very long time. Nickels turned the piston machine's dial down to zero and rose from his seat. He generally forced captives to stand up during their first tryst with the machine. He found that forcing women to undergo mechanical rape while standing upright had a primal, animalistic impact upon their psyches. They had to learn quickly that no physical position and no particular activity or task could provide them any respite from their tedious lives of endless, mindless boning. But now that Megan had experienced rape in the standing position, it was a simple matter to adjust the machine's arm in order to service her while she kneeled. She even exhaled a sigh of relief when Nickels inserted the tip of the phallus back into her cunt, for she craved any possible distraction from the grueling task that lay ahead of her. The soldiers noticed her inappropriately accommodating reaction and enjoyed a loud, rioutous laugh at her expense. A Girl Behind Enemy Lines Ch. 01 Barrington departed from the bedroom to inform his comrades in the living room that the girl was more than ready. There were nine men waiting to use her with eleven more on the way. Fleming silently hoped that the other squads would find another girl for her to play with. Fleming was the first to take up position inside Megan's innocent young mouth. She had performed oral sex a total of nine times in her life. Luckily in her current position there were few ways she could go wrong. The dildo pumped in and out of her pussy as she knelt on the carpet. Nickels dialed the machine up to five. Megan moaned softly into the hard cock filling her mouth. The poor girl faced a dilemma at this point. With her mouth gagged and full of cock, how could she ask for permission the next time she approached orgasm? Even as she struggled to bob her head up and down on Fleming's dick the question occupied the center of her attention. She tried her best to dissociate herself from the whole experience and analyze her situation from a straightforward and logical perspective. Her body's most powerful impulses told her to do whatever was necessary to avoid physical harm, and she could only avoid harm by playing her part to the letter. Fleming reflected that this victim was fortunate in a number of ways. She was lucky that she was able to physically enjoy the encounter, even if she didn't enjoy it on an emotional or intellectual level. This troop had run into more than its share of frigid bitches. Megan was also fortunate in that she possessed tremendous physical stamina. The boys planned to keep her kneeling on the floor for eight hours sucking cock while being fucked by a machine. Deep-throat meant oxygen deprivation; the poor girl would have to hold her breath for up to thirty seconds at a time as she took the entirety of her partners' shafts into her mouth. They fucked her face so eagerly and vigorously that she barely had opportunity to pop their boners out of her mouth in order tickle their balls and taints with her tongue every now and again. Fleming pulled out at the brink of orgasm and ejaculated all over Megan's face. Semen dripped from her eyelids down her cheek and the sides of her nose, some of it running down to her lips and into her mouth. Each of the remaining boys then raped her mouth in turn, and each one took the care to spray their seed all over her face. It took Megan eleven minutes to make Fleming come, then seven more minutes to suck Barrington off. She climaxed at the same time as Barrington, coming all over the silicone shaft inside her while Barrington jizzed onto her forehead and cheekbones. She telegraphed her orgasm to the boys while Barrington was still inside her mouth. "Mmmmm... ohhmmmmm! Ohmm! Mmmm! Mmm gnnna cmmmm! mmm gnnna cmmm! Pls plz plz mssstrr mmm eyyy plllsss cmmmm msstrrr plsss lmmme cmmm!" "What's that, cunt? You want what? You want a cone? What the fuck are you saying, bitch?" Her tongue caressed his dick while he thrust toward her tonsils. "Alright, baby. You can come just this once. Go ahead. Come on, slut! Don't you want to come? Fucking come, bitch!" A fresh torrent of girl fluid streaked across the shiny, black shaft as it sparkled from the pussy juice that coated it. Megan just kept moaning. Within an hour and a half Megan had reached her fourth orgasm of the evening and all nine soldiers had coated her face with fresh jizz. She begged through her gag for permission to come each time, though the boys teased her and made her beg for just a bit longer each time. "Sorry to disappoint you, toots." Fleming cooed mockingly as he lay on what used to be Megan's bed, chain smoking cigarettes and burning holes in her bedclothes with the ashes. "You'll get to swallow plenty of cum when the other squad arrives. Probably more than enough to make you sick. But the boys and I have been discussing, we think you've had enough fun on the machine for today. We think it's time you learned to enjoy yourself in a more... natural way." Megan just stared ahead, her eyes welling with yet more tears. Her face was bruised and swollen, her lips chapped and bleeding. Her jaw felt like it was broken. Her throat was raw and burning, and she longed for a glass of water. Her knees had practically gone numb from kneeling and she could barely feel her vagina. Her tits were still burning from the lash and her clit stung and ached from the riding crop's assault. Nickels turned off the machine and removed the oversized dildo from her vagina with a resounding pop. Pussy juice continued to flow from inside her. The bitch was still down to fuck, and her night was just beginning. A Girl Behind Enemy Lines Ch. 02 Megan knelt before the gathering of soldiers, her body shivering and her face covered in cum. She sobbed and gasped as she awaited her next ordeal. She had no idea why these men were ganging up on her. Were there no other women around to brutalize? The unfortunate girl severely miscalculated the ratio of horny soldiers to innocent civilians in her area. Most of them were just passing through, but a few would linger to ensure the smooth assimilation of the local populace. Megan would assist them in their tasks willingly or unwillingly. She gasped in astonishment each time the men produced a new sexual apparatus or contrivance. Did they really need to bring so many toys? She gradually became aware that she wasn't dealing with an ordinary detachment of infantry. These men had a special assignment. Each one had earned their privilege of responsibility through special service or superior ability. They were in the neighborhood for no purpose but to abuse and humiliate Megan Warner. The innocent student was unaware that thirty miles up the road from her house one hundred and sixty women were languishing in a schoolyard hastily converted into a detainment camp. Encased in sadistically-designed wooden pillories they would not even enjoy the dignity of seeing their rapists face to face. They would undergo a cold, impersonal and mechanical indoctrination before being sold to private bidders or shipped off to faraway work camps. Megan was lucky that the training squads stumbled upon her before the supply corps or contractors could find her and drag her away to camp. If she proved adequate to the challenges of her special role, she could look forward to a life of bearable torture and occasional comfort. Most of the prisoners in the camps would experience no such luck. It all came down to improvisation. After Pfc Fleming removed her ring gag she stared straight ahead her mouth gaping, her being jaw too weary at this particular moment for any adjustment. The men stared back at her in silence. She realized that they were waiting for her to say something. This time there was no script and she would have to degrade herself using her own words. "Umm... I... uh... thank you for letting me suck your cocks! I... um... I really enjoy sucking cock. And... I mean... because it makes me horny! Because I'm a fucking slut and I want to suck dicks and lick balls all of the time... and... and it makes me wet!" She struggled to find the right words. Some of the men seemed pleased, but others glared disapprovingly. Suddenly she realized what she was forgetting. "And thank you for coming all over my face! I love having jizz all over me! I love sucking cock and getting... uh... covered in your... um... sperm." She heaved an exhausted sigh as the men nodded to each other approvingly. She began to weep softly while the men chattered to each other about what they could do to her next. Megan gulped as Barrington reached into his backpack and produced a set of restraints unlike anything she had ever seen. Fleming stooped over her and released her hands from their cuffs. She continued to kneel on her bruised, aching knees. Her arms were asleep and her hands fell limply to her sides. Barrington approached with the restraints in hand. They consisted of a steel bar with four attached chains, each one ending in a metal hoop. Megan didn't like the look of those rings. They barely seemed big enough to accommodate a girl's wrists, let alone her ankles. Barrington gripped her ankles and spread her feet apart. Sensing his motive, she shuffled her knees and spread her legs wide in response to his motions. He placed the bar between her legs and clasped the rings around her wrists and ankles. The cold metal clamped tightly around her joints, biting into her flesh. The pressure on her ankles would quickly become difficult to bear. With her ankles cuffed to opposite ends of the bar she had no hope of rising, lying down or closing her legs. Her knees would have to support her weight for quite a bit longer. The collar around her neck itched and chafed. The nasty accessory had impaired her ability to breathe throughout the evening, but only now after hours of abuse did she begin to focus on its presence. It felt like it was becoming tighter and tighter. As Barrington applied the restraints Fleming noticed that her neck was slender enough that she could still breathe were it a notch tighter, albeit with significant difficulty. She gagged, sputtered and coughed as he adjusted the clasp. Barrington had more implements to display to the captive young lady. He returned from another trip to the backpack with an intimidating Malay rattan cane. In his other hand he carried some objects which Megan could hardly fathom at a glance. As he drew closer she observed that he was carrying a wrapped, lubricated condom and what appeared to be a vegetable with its skin removed. The condom's presence immediately struck Megan as absurd. Surely after gang-raping an unwilling stranger in the mouth these men weren't going to suddenly display an interest in safe sex. As Barrington removed the condom from its packaging Megan began to comprehend her new predicament, and an unprecedented new wave of shame and horror siezed her mind and body. She shuddered uncontrollably and wailed a pitiful, choked moan through the collar pressing into her windpipe. "No.... p-please... don't do this to me... Why?? What do you want from me? I'll do anything *sob*.... anything you want." Barrington turned to Fleming. "Looks like the dumb cunt's already forgotten how to say 'master' and 'sir'!" He laughed sadistically as he brought the cane down hard onto her shoulders. He gave her five more strokes about the upper back while she shrieked in uncomprehending pain and shock. The cane cut her flesh almost immediately, leaving heavy blue and purple streaks. "YEAAAAAGHHH OWWW OHHH OH HO UGGHHHHHH! THAN- TH- OW! THANK YOU for disciplining me master! Sir! Thank you! Ohh! Oooohhh...." Barrington relented for the moment and returned to the task that had precipitated her screaming fit. The vegetable was a peeled and carved ginger root. The prisoner training and disciplinary units always carried a few bags of them wherever they raided. Barrington wrapped the lubed condom around the thick, phallic vegetable. Megan's eyes continued to widen in horror. "As I instructed you before..." began Fleming, "nature provides us with a vast assortment of possibilites for fulfilling the need to pleasure our bodies. Now, a lot of guys tend to believe that making a woman come is a complex and challenging task that requires a lot of skill and subtlety. I think that maybe there's a certain element of precision to it, but ultimately it's just a question of providing sufficient stimulation. I can't even begin to guess what kind of nasty things you do to yourself in private, but I'm willing to bet you aren't prepared for the type of stimulation you're about to experience." As Fleming spoke Barrington tapped gently on her ass with the cane. She correctly interpreted the gesture as a signal to raise her buttocks into the air. Barrington helpfully pushed down on the back of her head with his hand as she raised her ass up high, and she lowered her face sheepishly to the ground in helpless, tearful resignation. Fleming took the condom-wrapped ginger root in hand and pressed the tip of it gently against Megan's anus. She shuddered but remained kneeling with her face on the carpet, her ass gently swaying in the air. The lubed condom penetrated her sphincter with just the slightest pressure. He fucked her ass gently with the tip of the root for a minute and a half before drawing it back and then swiftly plunging half of the entire shaft into her rectum. Her squeals of shock and indignation rapidly declined into moans of submissive approval as she observed that her pussy was becoming wet again. Having thoroughly spackled her ass with the condom's lube, Fleming decided that Megan was ready to experience the ginger's effects without protection. He popped the vegetable out of her anus as a look of bemused disappointment crossed her face. She lifted her head from the ground for a moment before Barrington placed his boot on her neck, forcing her face back to the floor. Suddenly she felt the ginger root penetrate her bottom once more. This time there was no condom, though enough lube remained to render the insertion relatively painless. She found the hard, bulky presence inside her butt almost comforting in some indescribable way. Then she began to experience the effects of the ginger. Her moaning took on the character of pained wailing once again as her anus began to itch and burn. Fleming continued to press on the vegetable until it very nearly disappeared inside her. Her muscles began to contract and tighten around the intruder, squeezing the spicy root with her flesh and rendering the burning more painful with each twitch and spasm. She felt as if a jet of fire were shooting up her rear end and slowly searing its way up her insides. Failing to comprehend even the manner in which she was being tortured, she began to scream and plead maniacally. "AHHHHHHHHGGGH! UHHGHHH! AIIEIEEEEE! Please, master! Take it out! Please please please I'll do anything you -MMMUUUGGGH AGHHHH!" Barrington had rudely cut off her pleas by placing the ring gag back inside her mouth. He gripped a fistful of her hair and dragged her to an upright kneeling position. It was time for them to move the party to the dining room. Barrington dragged Megan down the hall by the hair. With her hands and feet chained to the metal spreader bar behind her back, she couldn't rise from her knees. By the time they reached the dining room table her knees and shins were bleeding from rug burns. The men unceremoniously hoisted her on top of the table, leaving her tortured knees resting on the hard wooden surface. Her head hung over one edge of the table, her ass over the other. Pvt. Nickels strode around the table to face her, unzipped his trousers and placed his cock through the ring wedging her mouth open. Her tongue lolled about as she made her best effort to lick him. His limp cock began to grow and stiffen inside her mouth. Suddenly her backside exploded in a surge of agony. She swore that a full second passed between her mind registering the pain and her ears registering the accompanying crack of the cane against her skin. He had struck her two more times before she could begin to comprehend whence the pain was coming. Barrington and Fleming were taking turns, each striking three or four times before passing the cane to his partner. More men began to line up for a chance to cane her. A couple of the soldiers actually winced when they heard the sound. It echoed through the house, a reverberating crack like a distant gunshot accompanied by pained whimpering. The sound rang out again and again. Nickels counted seventeen strokes, then eighteen and nineteen. Megan was no longer aware of the pain in her knees and shins or the massive, itching root crudely lodged inside her anus. With her legs spread apart by her restraining bar, she could do nothing to shield her crotch from the assault. While the majority of the blows landed on her buttocks, the men were careful not to spare her thighs nor her cunt from the vicious wooden instrument. They left deep, heavy stripes on her ass and legs and a few bruises right across labia and her rapidly swelling mons. The cane cracked against her soft, delicate skin again and again. Nickels checked his count against that of a fellow private. Thirty seven strokes seemed like a good guess. Then another crack rang through the modest two-story abode. That was stroke thirty eight, they guessed. The marks on her buttocks were turning black and purple as the base of the ginger root poked out timidly from her anus. Then came another thwack. Megan had endured thirty nine strokes. In the same span of time she had brought three men to orgasm with her mouth. They forced her to swallow every drop of their ejaculate. One of the soldiers took up the cane and struck her three more times across the crotch between her splayed legs. She sobbed and moaned softly. They gave Megan a break from the caning while two more soldiers raped her mouth. She sucked them off like a whore, bobbing her head on their hard dicks with the verve and professionalism of a porn star and licking every drop of cum off the heads of their cocks when they finished. She made every effort to demonstrate her willingness to do whatever it might take to satisfy her masters and avoid another blow from the cane. Her extremities were numb from hours of bondage in various excruciating positions. Every part of her body that still had proper circulation was in agony. Yet a part of her wondered why none of the men had actually attempted to fuck her yet. So far this evening she had done nothing but suck cock, occasionally experiencing the thrill of having foreign objects inserted into her lower orifices. She knew that at some point sex was coming, and as the evening's tortures wore on she began to regard the possibility with diminishing dread and mounting excitement. She even subconsciously acknowledged that fucking these men would be a welcome alternative to further caning and forced oral sex. As she sucked off a young redheaded private by the name of McAllister he took a moment to gaze into her eyes. Some of the men wanted her to make eye contact while she sucked them, gently tilting her head upward with a hand under her chin. Others insisted that she refrain from looking at them. The majority simply jerked her head up and down on their shafts, gripping her hair at the scalp and nearly spraining her neck with the stiff, forceful and repetetive movements of their arms. She particularly hated this form of treatment, and she actually found herself able to deep-throat the mens' cocks more easily when she was allowed to move her head freely. McAllister on the other hand was relatively gentle when his dick was in a girl's mouth. He stroked her face affectionately as they shared their passing glance. He was just about finished with Megan but their fleeting moment of eye contact communicated a powerful and urgent message to him. He came inside her mouth and she slurped down his cum without batting an eyelash. He zipped up his trousers and whispered something into Fleming's ear. Fleming bore an expression of bemused skepticism. "You think she wants it? I mean, it's been a couple of hours since the machine. She might not be the tightest fit." "Look at her, Fleming. She's in fucking heat." Goosebumps stood out all over Megan's skin. They were standing right behind her and talking about fucking her as if she weren't there at all. It was turning her on. She shivered and blushed as another rush of adrenaline overtook her. Her pelvic muscles contracted and her sphincter clenched tightly around the burning ginger root inside her. It was like a burning hot coal inside her ass. She moaned a ragged, heavy song of torment yet she could no longer make a sound without conveying just a hint of whorish ecstasy. She yelped softly and demurely when Barrington mounted her. She was still kneeling on the table with her ass in the air, her head and backside elevated roughly to the level of the mens' waists. In this position they could fuck her from both sides, one cock in her mouth and another in her bruised and battered pussy. She entertained the boys in this fashion for another hour, barely noticing the penetration thanks to her preoccupation with the large, painful object embedded in her anus. The men tortured her with the root as they fucked her pussy, carefully wiggling the root in and out of her. The lubricant in her ass had begun to dry up and the root no longer slid back and forth without effort. Even expelling it would have been a challenge for Megan without assistance. Meg shrieked like a cat and nearly leapt from the table when Fleming mounted her and started jerking the root back and forth roughly, fucking her ass raw with the dry, gnarled vegetable. As she tried her best to move her hips appropriately in response to the thrusts of his cock inside her pussy, he developed a rhythm of alternating thrusts with his dick and the root. He couldn't wait for a chance to thrust his shaft into her derriere. Unfortunately the residual ginger would have rendered the act more than a bit uncomfortable for him at this juncture. He had to bide his time until they could get her to an outpost and clean her out. As Megan squirmed and squealed in response to the motion of her irritating ginger buttplug, yet another sadistic idea crossed his mind. It was nearly time to let Megan have a break. After all nine of the men had reached orgasm with the assistance of Megan's mouth and cunt, four of them went back for seconds. The boys were beginning to tire and their cocks weren't as sensitive as they were a few hours earlier. It took another thirty minutes for them to get their rocks off. The men left Megan kneeling on the table, cum oozing from her pussy and mouth. They were gone for what seemed like hours to Megan, only twenty minutes in reality. She could tell that they were engaged in a heated and enthusiastic debate. Finally all nine men poured back into the dining room. "Flip." spoke Cpl Barrington with a sly grin. Pvt Nickels tossed a coin in the air and caught it on the back of his hand. The toss came up heads. "Heads!" chuckled Barrington. "We were trying to decide whether you'd get another caning before your break. Looks like your tits are in luck, they're going to get some new stripes to match the ones on your ass!" Megan had no strength remaining for words. She simply continued sobbing while Fleming removed her ring gag yet again. "Don't worry, slut. We're not going to make you beg for this one. We can already tell how badly you want it." With her legs and wrists chained to the spreader bar, she couldn't make much of an effort to protect her breasts. She just grimaced and wept, shouting weakly when the cane slashed across her chest. Her tits began to swell as blue and purple bruises formed. She counted twelve blows. The rattan cane landed with another loud crack. Thirteen blows. Then came the fourteenth. Megan began to feel detached from her own body, like an alien observer staring down upon her life from outer space. She could no longer believe that any of the things that were happening were real. The fifteenth stroke landed on her right breast, grazing her nipple. She ground her teeth in anticipation for the following stroke, but it never arrived. Fleming stood in front of her, waving the cane impatiently. "How's that? What do you say, slut?" Megan sat in dazed silence for twenty or thirty seconds. Fleming sighed and drew back his arm to deliver another blow. Megan's eyes shot wide open and she panicked. "Th... Thankyoufordiscipliningmemastersir! I love it when you whip my tits, master! The pain makes me horny, it does... I mean... it makes my pussy wet because I 'm a filthy little pain slut! Please discipline me again master, sir!" The soldiers laughed in unison while Megan's face turned crimson. Her first day wasn't over yet and the slut was already a professional. The boys knew they had done well in choosing their newest sex slave. Megan drifted out of consciousness as the soldiers exited the room, leaving the bound, naked, battered, cum drenched girl to enjoy a rare moment of privacy. Suddenly she heard a knock at the front door so loud that it frightened her back to an alert, wakeful state. She heard somewhere around a dozen men's voices as another squad poured into her house. Now there were twenty men in the house, and every single one of them was there for no purpose other than to fuck and torture Megan. She continued to weep softly through her sore, dry eyes. Suddenly she heard a high-pitched moan from the direction of the kitchen. The soldiers had another woman with them.