8 comments/ 125969 views/ 25 favorites Soldier Girl By: Britease "Run Lisa, Run!" Her colleague cried out urgently. They had been spotted and were about to be over-run by the motley group of terrorists, or freedom fighters, depending which side you were on. Lisa hesitated for an instant, realizing that it was impossible to help Ben who was already wounded, and too late for Jack and Tim who were by then lying dead, their blood already drying in the scrubby sand. She fired off the last three rounds from her pistol, at least one of them finding its target and adding him to the long list of dead that the fire-fight had created over the last couple of hours. Once discovered, they'd had little chance of escape, and Lisa knew it, but she stood up and ran, dropping her empty gun, and making it back to the road, expecting any moment to feel the burning pain of a bullet tearing into her vulnerable flesh. But they wanted one of the group alive, needed to know what information they had gathered, and what they had passed on. They wanted that so bad, that they didn't so much as risk a wounding shot, but chased her, knowing she would not get far. She did well, being as fit as any woman in the US army, but there were too many of them, and her fear almost choked her as the robe clad men closed in from both sides, cutting off all routes of escape. Captain Lisa Roberts came to several hours later, a searing headache where they had clubbed her to unconsciousness. She shook her head trying to make sense of her surroundings, surprised to find herself still alive, and as far as she could tell in one piece. At twenty six, Lisa was one of only a handful of women who had passed all the requirements to join the elite special services squad that she had been operating with, a hundred miles the wrong side of the Pakistani border, and even then only an outbreak of food poisoning had made it necessary for her to go out live on such a dangerous mission. She shook her head again, the long brunette hair that had once hung down to her shoulders long since cropped off, just a stubble covering her scalp. With her slim toned body, and small pert breasts, it would be difficult to tell when in uniform, that she was not just another soldier, if a little shorter than average at five foot six. That is till you looked at her face, and her pretty features and cute little nose gave the game away, in particular the huge soft brown eyes that looked out from under her long curly lashes. Out of the bulky uniform she was altogether different, though few had enjoyed that privilege. She was, and always had been a tom-boy, not preferring women in any way, but had spent more time playing with big boy's toys, than the boys themselves. It took a few minutes to realise that she was tied up; her wrists bound and tied up above her head, to the mesh fence that she was secured to. It was night time, and she was outside in the open, just a glimmer from the waning moon giving her any idea of what was around her, a light truck to her right, and what looked like two or three tents just beyond. With a jolt, Lisa recognized that this was probably the camp they had been looking for, what the other three had died trying to find. If only she could pass this extra bit of intel. on, but it was too late now, and a single tear ran down her cheek as the hopelessness of her situation dawned. She shivered as the cold of the night got through to her for the first time, and the bindings began to cut into her flesh. She stood, almost hung there, not knowing how long it would be till they come for her, as come for her they surely would. An hour later, there was a flash of dim light from one of the tents, as someone lifted the flap to leave. Lisa squinted into the darkness in an effort to see where they were going, but could make nothing out. Then suddenly they were there, right in front of her, staring at her with hatred in their dark eyes. There were two of them, one in dark flowing robes, and the other in a western style suit. One of them flashed a lamp in her face, just for an instant but long enough. "You're right," one said in good English. "It is a woman. The Americans must be desperate if they're using women for this sort of work." Then the one in the suit stepped forward and slapped her hard around the face, sending Lisa's senses reeling, the stinging pain surprising her. "I don't suppose you will tell us what we want to know young miss, will you?" He demanded. Lisa gave her name, rank and number as required by international law and no more, but the man just laughed cruelly. "You will soon enough," he replied. "By this time tomorrow you'll be begging us to listen to you. Meanwhile the Americans have been good enough to send us a little gift. Something to amuse the men maybe." Lisa's insides turned over, the implications of his words sinking in, as he issued an instruction in Arabic to the other man. He stood back, and the robe clad man took his place, drawing out a wicked looking knife as he did so, causing Lisa to draw back in terror. He reached out with the knife and pushed the flat of it into her stomach, threatening to twist it and sink it into her flesh. Instead he pushed it under her belt and with one quick movement sliced through the heavy leather as if it was butter. Then he grabbed the top of her trousers with his other hand, and sliced them open, not bothering with the buttons, ripping them all the way down one leg till they fell in a heap around her ankles. Lisa sobbed, all her training not preparing her for this reality; death was always a possibility, but a brutal strip and probably more had never been on the list. She struggled with her bindings, hopelessly trying to save herself, but knowing it was useless. "Ready to talk yet young miss?" the voice from the darkness beyond teased her, but still she shook her head, not trusting herself to say anything. The man in the background spoke again, slowly, in plain English, making absolutely sure that the girl in front of him would fully understand what he was saying. "OK, Khalid, have your fun. Strip her naked and we'll see what the men make of her when they find her tied up here in the morning." With that he turned on his heels and made his way back to the tent, having lost interest in the girl for the time being. Lisa bit her lip, desperately trying not to break down, not to beg for release, but with a sob, she could not hold out. "Please, please don't. Please leave me alone," she cried pitifully, but he ignored her, for the moment more interested in what a pretty young American girl looked like naked than anything else. He'd never seen a western woman in the nude, but had seen pictures and liked what he'd seen. Khalid was looking forward to carrying out Wahid's orders to the letter. He put his knife inside the bottom of her regulation shirt, and slowly sawed his way upwards, slicing the material easily with the razor sharp blade, laughing as she turned her head away as it threatened to cut into her as it emerged at the top. Then he roughly grabbed it with both hands, opening it up, and tearing the last few shreds that still held it together. The terrorist stood back to admire his handiwork, a grin on his face. "So not all American whores have big tits like in your filthy magazines," he spat at her. He then grabbed at her bra and yanked at it causing her to jerk, the pain in her wrists suddenly worse. Then the knife came out again, and he slid it under the flimsy garment, the cold steel sending shivers through her as she felt it against her bare skin, one flourish ripping through the bra, then the straps, so he could wrench it from her. "Very nice my little one," he crooned. "Very nice and tight, like little buttons." Lisa cringed as he stared at her naked breasts, unable to stop him; unable to stop him doing whatever he wanted. She was in his power, and they both knew it. He put the blade against her flat stomach and slowly scraped it up her skin, not cutting, but threatening to with the slightest slip. Lisa whimpered like a baby as she felt it start to run up over the curve of her left breast, and gasped in fear as she felt its sharp edge prick the hardness of her nipple. The man laughed at her helplessness, enjoying himself, tracing around the other nipple with the tip of his knife till she felt a trickle of warm blood running down her breast, and screamed aloud for mercy. But he wasn't finished, and reached down to her panties, not bothering with the knife, simply ripping them off her and leaving her naked and helpless. Then he stood back with a grin on his face, watching her sob her heart out, unable to comprehend what was happening to her, praying that she'd wake up and find it was all a bad dream. Khalid reached towards her, and fondled her breasts, first one, then the other, making her squirm hopelessly as he squeezed her hard little nipples, pinching them hard between his thumb and finger, his nail biting in, till she looked ready to pass out, with a mixture of fear and pain. "You must love that you American bitch," he whispered into her ear, ignoring her pleas to be left alone. "Wait till the morning when the men wake up. You'll be wishing you were on your own with me then." She didn't notice him leaving, just that nobody was tormenting her anymore, only the hurt in her breasts and the burning between her legs where he had coarsely fingered her, a reminder of what she had gone through. Lisa stood there shivering in the cold, thankful that he'd gone, but dreading the rest of the long night with no relief to her aching limbs and sore wrists, but mostly dreading the morning, not daring to think of what was to befall her. She grabbed snatches of sleep, but always the unbearable pain in her wrists and arms as it supported her weight brought her back to wakefulness. She cursed her captures, cursed her superior officers for agreeing her requests to go out on a live sortie, and even cursed her dead colleagues for not being there. None of this helped. Then an hour before dawn broke she woke with a start, hearing noises from the tents as the fighters roused themselves and started to get themselves ready. Then she heard the motors of the trucks being started up, and she wondered how long it would be till the sought her out, and just what they would do when they found her naked, only her shirt still hanging from her arms, but offering her no protection or cover. In the end to her initial relief, she saw groups of them jumping on the back of the trucks, disappearing under the canvas covers, then the tents disappeared and they were loaded up, and everyone seemed to leave. The panic rose in her, as it occurred they were going off and leaving her strung up and naked, with the searing heat of the day ahead. It would be a terrible way to die, the heat and the thirst giving her no mercy. Lisa shouted, her mouth dry, her voice little more than a croak, calling them back. Whatever they would do to her must be better than being left there to die. But they didn't hear, or if they did, then they didn't respond, had been ordered not to perhaps. Three hours later and she was still strung up, the pain in her arms so bad it was making her faint, the sun on her naked creamy white body, unused to the sun and already beginning to burn. Despite this she still looked around, in the light of the day, seeing that the camp was a semi permanent one, except that the men and machines disappeared during daylight hours, out of view of the American spy planes and satellites. The equipment left behind for the following nights, scattered around and hidden under bushes. No wonder they hadn't been able to find this place. It only existed during the night, but that information would be of no use to her now. Lisa broke down and sobbed, then cried aloud, floods of tears pouring down her cheeks, unable to do anything to help herself, even to comfort the hurt in her breasts and pussy. The Land Rover was almost up onto her before she realized it was there, and she cried out with joy, as it pulled up almost alongside. She was to be saved. Maybe it was another American unit, or a Land Rover meant it would be the British SAS, who were also operating in the area. She no longer cared that she was naked, and that they would see her nude body. That didn't matter, as long as she was saved. Two men got slowly down from the vehicle, and her heart slumped. It was the two from the previous night, and she dreaded what they had come back for. Still better than the death that had seemed so unavoidable just a few moments previously, so she stood up straight, put her shoulders back like a regular soldier, waiting to see what further torment they had for her. "How are you feeling this morning young miss?" The suited one asked with what could be mistaken for a pleasant tone. She ignored him. He reached forward and put a flask of water to her lips, and she gulped it greedily, half of it pouring down her chin, and onto her body, giving her minimal relief. "Oh look at the state of you young miss," he continued, "blood all over your lovely breast. Let's see if we can clean it up a little." He took a handkerchief from his top pocket and carefully wiped the smear of dried blood from around her breast, grinning wickedly. "You should be more careful Khalid, you could have cut the tip right off." Lisa closed her eyes, feeling so completely vulnerable that she could hardly cope, trying to pretend it wasn't happening to her, trying to block out the thought that it would probably get worse. "Cut her down Khalid," he ordered. "She won't give any trouble in her state." And so it was. Khalid cut her bonds, and Lisa tried to step forward, but collapsed in a heap on the sand in front of them, desperately clutching at her poor arms, the burning sensation nearly swamping her, as the blood began circulating freely again. They half dragged, half carried her to the Land Rover, roughly throwing her into the back, pulling the remains of her shirt unceremoniously from her and discarding it, as they jumped in the front and drove off. Lisa curled up in the back, massaging her muscles back into shape, helping the blood to circulate, at last getting the feel back into them. Naked or not, if she could only keep her hands free, then she had a chance. But it wasn't to be, just a few miles from the base, they pulled over, and dragged her out from the back, yanking her arms behind her back, and retying them. Lisa said nothing, and offered no resistance. It was pointless. What she had feared then happened. They pushed her brutally over the tailgate of the vehicle, face down, the delicate skin of her bare breasts burning as it came into contact with the hot metal as they pushed her down onto it. But that was soon forgotten as she felt them spreading her legs, and a hand started to explore between her legs, an instant later a thumb being roughly forced up inside her, causing her to scream out, in surprise and terror. "She's ready enough," grunted one of them, and the next thing she felt was a cock being forced up into her pussy, roughly with no effort to give her time to accommodate it. She screamed each time he thrust it deep inside her, fighting to control her feelings of disgust, then fighting to control her body as it reacted to what was being done to it. "She's enjoying it," called the other one. "All American women are whores. They'd all want this if they got the chance." After a while, the second one took over, and repeated the treatment, screwing Lisa till she could no longer care what happened, unaware even of which of them had taken her first, her mind thankfully at last blanking out what was taking place. Satisfied, one of them grabbed the rope binding her arms behind her back, and yanked her up vertically, spinning her round to face them. Lisa stood proudly; her shoulders back, aware that it made her breasts stick out provocatively but not caring. What else could they do to her? "Ready to talk yet young miss?" Demanded the one who was obviously the boss, laughing as she shook her head. "I don't think you've got anything to tell us have you?" He asked almost kindly, but she didn't respond. Wahid looked the girl over, admiring her pluck as much as her lovely naked body. He had spent much time in Europe, and visited America many times. He had made love to western women before, often, usually paid for, and had a taste for them. This girl in front of him was certainly beautiful by any standards, and her tight young body and pert tits was that of an athlete, just as he liked them, not the soft fleshy bodies that he had sometimes ended up with. He decided she was perhaps the prettiest western girl he had ever seen naked. Pity really! Still he could keep her around for another day or so. Maybe he would really let some of the men play with her. He'd enjoy watching that. ------------------------------ "What the hell is that?" shouted the top sergeant back in the US. It was an army base in the middle of nowhere, where they processed intel sent back from the theatre of operations. Not the hot stuff, which was dealt with immediately, but the chaff, and it was surprising quite how much could be worked out from the stuff sent back from the spy planes when you had enough man power and computers to deal with it. "Zoom in on that," the sergeant said in a more controlled voice. "Holy shit!" He added when the operator, a mid west kid did as requested. "That's the sort of thing we get from over California, so I've heard," remarked the young soldier, staring at the enhanced image on the screen. "Don't believe everything you hear son," answered his boss. "And they're seldom as gorgeous as that piece of ass... Zoom in a bit closer, can you?" The two of them stared at the lovely naked girl on the screen in front of them, the youngster enjoying the sort of view that he'd been promised at training camp at last, and the sergeant wondering what on earth such a pure white skinned girl could be doing bound up naked to a decrepit fence in the middle of a desert, just a few minutes after daybreak. "This one will set the cat among the pigeons," he thought, enjoying one last look before preparing to pass the extraordinary piece of intel on to his superiors. --------------------------------------------- The Land Rover eventually pulled over outside a house down a narrow street in the nearby town. They bundled her, still bound and naked, from the back, and pushed her ahead of them into the house, and through into a large room. Lisa cringed as she entered, finding it occupied by ten or a dozen men, a mixture of Arab and western dress, a few of them certainly European, maybe French by the sound of their accents, not that she expected them to offer her any help. Her entry caused a minor commotion, the seated ones jumping to their feet, the others crowding round her. "So it was true," said one. "As pretty as you promised," said another. "American whore," spat out yet another. The reaction was mixed, but they all kept looking. Lisa felt like rolling up into a ball on the floor, but she steeled herself, clenching her teeth tightly, standing upright, her arms tied behind her, her pointy breasts sticking out proudly. "May we?" asked one of them, his politeness a mockery. "By all means my friends," answered Wahid. "See what the enemy feels like. It's as close as many of you will ever get." There was mockery at them in his reply, but none of them dared to respond. Instead they closed in, and reached out, to see what indeed this enemy did feel like, and Lisa closed her eyes, forcing herself to block out her panic as she felt first one, then two, then many hands run all over her, squeezing her breasts, stroking her tummy, tweaking her nipples, patting her bottom. Stroking the small trimmed bush of hair that lay at the top of her legs, and threatening to force their way between them. At last her legs were shaking so much, that she began to collapse, and even then willing hands grabbed her, holding her upright. Soldier Girl Ch. 01 Hello everyone. This is actually my first attempt at creative writing. Well, my first serious attempt, anyways. It's certainly my first real dive into the world of fiction. With that in mind, I'd like to know what you all think of it. Also, while I do plan on this being a series, I make no promises about anything. I'm just not the type of person to have a schedule unless it's absolutely necessary. That, and I wrote this because I was bored, and I have some free time on my hands. That can easily change. As for the chapter in question, there is no sex. I just wanted to get everything set up without having to force sex into it at some point. I suppose it will make it more satisfying later on. All characters depicted are 18 years old or above. Please give me any and all feedback on my work, and without further ado, please enjoy! -Mori ~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~ Stars littered the sky as the night gave its cold embrace to the valley, blanketing it in darkness except for a frail beacon of light that fought back its advance. Around it sat a halo of canvas tents that composed the small military camp. Soldiers of the Rilae Empire sat around the fire, laughing and conversing with each other whilst the others stand watch. It was only really a handful of men fitting of a patrol group. The men that stood watch were the only ones fully equipped for battle while the rest were haphazard in the degree of their equipment. Among the soldiers was one oddity. A woman. Females generally weren't accepted into the Rilaen military. Few even tried, as woman often lacked the same physical capacity of the men in their society. You had to be a rather accomplished fighter just to get over the cultural stigma and still be accepted. This is why the meager amount of females in the army usually rose in rank rather quickly, as they are held to much higher standards than males, thus only the best were allowed in. A woman's place usually resided in the home. She was standing watch. The group had spent a long enough time together that her gender really only became apparent to the others in her exotic beauty. She was in her late teens: a newcomer to womanhood. Her bright scarlet hair extended down, almost reaching her shoulders. She wasn't allowed to let it grow any further, as it would become nothing but a burden during battle. Her skin was a creamy white that contrasted well with the color of her hair. Perhaps one of her most apparent features was her size. She was small, perhaps even a foot shorter than everyone she now traveled with. She'd been small throughout her entire life. When she was a child she had always tried to reassure herself that she would eventually have a growth spurt or something. It never came, and as such, she was often teased about it in her early years, but while she was small, she still managed to keep her muscles toned and her limbs flexible. Her irises were also yet another rarity, they were an exotic bright green. On her chest she was endowed with perky C-cup breasts, though she didn't look it as she had them strapped down with linen wrappings that constantly constricted her so that her globes wouldn't get in the way of her swordplay. She took pride in her natural beauty just as she took pride in her station as a soldier in the Rilaen military. This was her dream, after all. Their family had a long history in the military. Her father and grandfather before him had been swordsmasters. They spent most of their time either off on campaigns for Emperor Valdus or training his many royal legionnaires. It was in her blood to become a warrior, regardless of her gender and size. Thus her father trained her in the way of the sword until she had finally made it to where she was now, patrolling the Rilaen border, protecting fiefdoms loyal to the emperor from bandit raids and scouting for any suspicious movements. She showed much promise in her work, and it was almost guaranteed that she would be promoted to take more commanding roles in the near future. "Ava," She turned to the man as he was calling her name and walking towards her from the campfire, "You're relieved from your post. Get some sleep. You look beat, and we have a long day's travel ahead of us." She nodded wearily at his words, as she'd been up for almost 24 hours now. Needless to say it had been a taxing day. She then walked over to her tent, removing bits of her armor on the way. She was relieved to finally be able to remove the thing. The stiffness of it had always bothered her, but she understood the practicality of it and endured it, perhaps even becoming used to it. Under the armor she wore was a plain brown tunic with pants of the same color. Both were stained with dirt and grass, as they were out in the forest miles away from the nearest town. It was a filthy task, but Ava was fond of the rugged, adventurous lifestyle that so contrasted with her childhood. After she was done getting her armor off she collapsed on her mat and pulled a linen sheet over herself as she finally drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. ~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~ The merrymaking of the soldiers swiftly died down after their supply of ale had run low. Aldin was one of the unfortunate members of the group to have drawn a short straw as they decided who would stand watch first. He had missed the fun! The rest had drank up all the ale! Sighing, he looked down to his feet in a pitiful attempt to alleviate his boredom. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself going back to his family and enjoying the small luxuries his pay would allow him once he went off-duty. He'd be able to replace their quickly decaying shoes and maybe even have a small feast to celebrate! Oh how wonderful it would be to have more than enough for once in his life. He smiled to himself as he drifted off into the crevices of his own mind to alleviate what reality could not. He was then rudely forced out of his "happy place" as he felt a prodding in his chest. It was a strange feeling, unlike any he had ever felt before. His eyes snapped open and surprisingly he saw... darkness. It was different than that which was common of night. Bleaker, somehow. Perhaps he was just dreaming... Then he heard a sound, one that was low and guttural, yet still rather loud. He soon realized it was he that was releasing the cry, out of pain as he fell to the cool earth below him. In his final moments of life, he realized the darkness before him was not the night he would never see once more, but rather the gloom of death as it gave him its cool embrace. The kiss of the arrow piercing his heart had overwhelmed him, and Aldin was no more. ~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~ Ava instantly awoke to screams of pain and the clang of steel; her hand instinctively darting to clutch one of her most faithful companions: a sword. Quickly she rose from her slumber to ready herself for the onslaught that was soon to come. She looked over at the heap of metal that was her armor. No time for that now. She decided it would be best to go outside and help with whatever was going on. She inspected her surroundings as fast as possible. The night was still young and darkness still blanketed the valley, but Ava could see well enough with her eyes already accustomed to the darkness around her. Their assailants had the element of surprise. That, and they simply outnumbered the border patrol group. Ava could see the silhouettes of the attackers rushing towards her as her other companions fought for their lives. She was ferocious in battle. With the gleam of fire in her eyes she quickly dispatched the first few assailants that came her way. She was simply too fast and skilled for their clumsy, lumbering thrusts and slashes. As the fight went on, things seemed to be evening out as their foe's advantages began to wane. But that soon changed as an arrow whistled by, sliding right into the back of Ava's right shoulder. The force of the arrow was enough to knock the girl off her feet. Her head hit the ground first, causing a sickening thump and a dull ringing in her ears. A few strands of blood paved their way down her face as she mercifully slipped off into unconsciousness, sparing her the pain. ~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~ Ava had awoken to an excruciating throbbing in her skull. Light seeped in to the unfamiliar canvas tent in which she now resided. She made an effort to sit up from her prone state only to find that that too caused unbearable pain, this time in her right shoulder. While trying to compose herself she had remembered what happened last night. Her eyes tightened as she prayed that her troop had eventually triumphed. Well, she was alive, wasn't she? And she could move her arm still, painful as it was, so she hadn't broken a bone, or at least if she had it wasn't anything serious. Probably just a flesh wound. She noted that her wounded areas were bandaged up nicely, and she began to relax a bit, then it donned on her. She was stark naked. She soon became confused and frightened as she tried to piece everything together and make an attempt at rationalizing it all. As her senses slowly returned to her she began to evaluate her surroundings. She was alone in a canvas tent stocked with a few medicinal supplies. She could see that the sun was casting its rays through the flap of the tent. She craned her neck to look down at her body and took solace in the fact that she was covered up by a sheet. It was thin, but at least it was something. Then she stared in horror at the manacles clasped to her wrists. She followed the chains up to a thick wooden stake anchored deep into the earth. Her heart began picking up in its speed and volume in sync with her breaths. No! She had to keep calm and composed. There had to be a way out of this. Her arms had been given a generous amount of chain, perhaps so that she would be able to keep her shoulder in a comfortable position. She fought the pain, clenching her teeth as she dragged herself, along with her sheet, over to the stake with her left arm to test its strength. She wrapped her left arm around the stake and began exerting herself in order to remove it, but the futility of it soon became apparent. It just wouldn't budge, so she dragged herself back to the mat and began fiddling with her manacles. They were cold and dark, probably made of some sort of iron. She definitely wouldn't be able to break them with her bare arms, not to mention one of them might as well be dead weight, but still, she persisted. She even went so far as to try and use the iron manacle on her wrist as a blunt object to beat the chain connecting to her other manacle with. Eventually a man walked in on her and smiled as he saw her doing this. "You do realize that that's not going to work, correct? And you shouldn't move around so much, lest you want your wounds to open again." He said in a sharp tone, announcing his presence. Ava quickly began covering herself more thoroughly as she became aware of the man's prying eyes. After becoming mildly satisfied with her modesty, she began to inspect the intruder as he looked down on her with an amused expression written all over his well-chiseled face. He had brown hair and brown eyes, his face littered with dots of hair that he couldn't quite shave off without cutting himself. He wore a plain brown tunic, cut with a thin 'V' that made part of his chest visible, under a leather strap that held his quiver which led down to his dark wool pants. "Who are you? Where am I? Or better yet, why am I chained to the floor?" She asked. "You may call me Hector, and as for our location, that is not information that will be given to you, since you are, after all, a prisoner here. I suppose that answers your last question as well." He said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Ava tore her gaze from the man. She just couldn't bring herself to meet his eye. His response had created more questions than it answered, some of them weren't so pleasant to think about. "What happened? What about everyone else?" She asked in a low voice, still trying to avoid his eyes. "You lost is what happened. Not that you had much of a chance to begin with. As for 'everyone else,' they're all dead. Have to be thorough about that, you know. Can't have anyone reporting back. You're actually rather lucky in this case; I certainly wasn't aiming for a flesh wound." On that note, his lips formed a wicked smile. There was something about that that just screamed danger in her mind. It was probably the way in which he spoke: It gave her an odd menacing feeling, but it wasn't overt in nature. That is, beyond the fact that he shot her. Battle wounds were always a mystery to her. Somehow they managed to be completely impersonal as to who inflicted the wound on whom, while at the same time having the possibility to be life-changing. No, that couldn't be the reason his presence sent chills up her spine. After hearing that she simply stayed quiet, focusing on his face with her peripheral vision. Certainly she had more questions to ask, but the incessant throbbing, and the dizzying, surreal feeling it gave along with it, was beginning again. Not to mention talking to this man was less than pleasant. "Well then. If you have nothing more to say, then I'll be leaving now. By the way, we're leaving tomorrow, and seeing as you still have two functioning legs, you shouldn't require any assistance in that regard." He said whilst walking out of the tent. Ava sighed and curled up into a ball as much as her arm would allow, and slowly escaped into the recesses of her mind. She'd find a way out of this later, she couldn't focus on it now. After about a half hour of lying awake, she succumbed to her headache and fell asleep. ~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~ Rate, comment, and all that jazz. I'd like to have some feedback on my work, after all. It'd probably be nice to read comments on it, and above all, thanks for reading. - Mori Soldier Girl "Enough!" Called Wahid when it showed signs of getting out of hand, the naked girl crying out in fear as she disappeared under the crush of men hungrily seeking a feel of her. "You'll all get your turn as I promised." He looked around them, recognizing some as true warriors, and others who bankrolled them. "You want to fuck the United States? Well here's your chance." "You three," he said, picking out three true believers, giving them first go at the prize, a show of his respect for them. Take her upstairs and do what you will with her." One of them refused, not wishing to dirty himself by going with an American whore, but the other two had no such problems, and took Lisa by the arm, forcing her ahead of them towards the staircase, oblivious to the catcalls coming from the other men. "Twelve of them," she thought. "Maybe eight or nine if more of them refuse, but even that will be too much. I'm not going to get through this." They rushed her upstairs, slapping and pinching her bottom to encourage her, past three guards who were sat around, cradling their Uzi machine guns, leering at her hungrily as she was marched past them. "Fancy a piece of this?" said one of the so called believers to the guards, stopping her, and turning her to face them, cupping her breast and presenting it to the jealous underlings. "Maybe later, when we've all finished." Once in the room, it was just as it had been on the Land Rover. They spread-eagled her over a table, one of them stretching her bound arms up behind her, forcing her up onto tip-toes, presenting her unguarded pussy to the other. He laughed, relishing her degradation, raping her seeming to pay back the Americans for the terrible things they had done to them. Lisa tried to block everything from her mind. She was not a virgin, but one fumbled attempt during her college days, and a short relationship with one of her instructors a few years previously hardly equipped her for the ordeal, The first one a tall distinguished Arab was good, quite expert, and she let it happen, reacting despite herself to his hand and fingers as he stroked her gently between her legs. Playing with her pussy till the slit became wet then ran with her juices. When she felt the tip of his cock start to probe the lips of her pussy, she gasped, her body betraying her, her legs thrusting her bottom out, stretching open as wide as possible, desperate for him to enter her. She gyrated to his rhythmic thrusts, gasping as his hard cock rammed into her deeper and deeper, carrying on and on, slowing down, speeding up, in other circumstances a wonderful time for an inexperienced girl like Lisa. She lost all control, crying out loudly as he made her orgasm once then yet again. Then the other one took his place, and it started to become a grind, the man making no effort to give her anything, just to take his pleasure. Lisa realizing that if it wouldn't work a second time, then by the fifth or sixth she just wouldn't be able to take it. Then he was finished, and she straightened up, stretching her aching back, looking at the two men who had violated her, wondering how they could be so beastly. "Go get the next lot," ordered the tall one, showing his superiority. " I'll stay here and make sure she doesn't give any trouble." Adding, "and don't hurry." He turned to her and spoke in English, his accent cropped and very British, just like the officers from Sandhurst that Lisa had often trained with. "You are a very beautiful woman. It's a waste to let these animals have you, all of them. It won't be like it was with me. Not after a few more." Lisa looked at him, wondering what he was angling at. Hoping maybe it was a last chance for her. "Give me the information Wahid wants. Maybe I can persuade him to go easy on you." "I don't know what he wants! I don't have any information!" Cried out Lisa, her last resolve melting away. He shook his head in pity, feeling sorry for her, but unable to help her. Lisa sensed him walking back over to her, and she tensed up. He reached down and lifted her chin up, till her pretty, tear smudged face looked up at him. "I'll do what I can," he promised, and then bent down to kiss her, first on the forehead, and then on the lips. Lisa responded, unable to understand the reaction of her body, kissing him back fiercely, pushing her tongue urgently between his lips, grinding her nakedness against him, gasping as he cupped her breast, and then bent down to suck at her erect nipples, willingly opening her thighs as he ran his hand down her tummy, and fondled her gently between her legs, sliding his finger up her wet slit till she groaned as he found her clitoris, and it was as she again went into orgasm that the next three men walked noisily into the room, unable to stop herself, wanting it to go on and on whoever was looking. It ended, and he reluctantly left, telling himself not to be so stupid, and to forget her. The next man was not so gentle, just wanting his way with her, pulling her hair and forcing her arms back till the pain of that, overcome the awfulness of what he was doing to her. Then it was over, and there were two more to go. Then there would be others. "Undo my arms please." She pleaded, but they would have none of it, the next one in line, deciding he wanted something different, no longer fancying the same hole that his predecessor had used. He forced her down onto her knees in front of him, and the others held her, forcing her arms back while they rubbed at her unprotected breasts. Then he took out his hard cock and forced it into her mouth, making Lisa gag, never having performed that before in her life, but accepting it, only just managing to pull her mouth away as he spurted all over her. "That leaves the last hole for me then," grinned the last one in bravado, not actually sure he wanted to do that with an American slut. "Untie me, and I'll give you something to remember," whispered Lisa as seductively as she could manage. She was desperate to have her hands free, and would do anything to have them untie her. She struggled to her feet, and approached the last candidate, forcing herself to smile at him, sticking her pert breasts out, and rubbing them against his chest, pretending to gasp in pleasure as he fondled them. "Just let my hands free. I promise you, you won't regret it." She whispered seductively into his ear, licking it for good measure. "This girl is hot," uttered one of them. " Untie her and we'll all have another go." One of them produced a knife and sliced through her bindings, the release making her groan with pleasure and relief, a groan which the men misunderstood as they stood around leering at her. Lisa knew that her arms and shoulders would not work properly for a few moments at least, not till the circulation returned, and they would have to work properly for what she had planned. So she squatted down and started to undo the last guy's trousers, taking her time, rubbing her hand against his erection inside, to keep him happy. Before she was ready, she had to reach inside his flies and pull his erect cock out, holding it, and playing with it. After what she had gone through it seemed easy, nothing, but then at last she felt ready. Part of the reason why Lisa had managed to get into the special services was her skill in martial arts, which she had practiced since she had been a young schoolgirl. She was already the army woman's champion, and was expected to make the next Olympic team at Karate. Since the first shock of being caught this was the first opportunity to use her skill, and picking her moment, she chopped the man in front of her between the legs, the perfect target being presented to her, and swept the man to her right off his feet, coming down on him with her elbow in his ribs, feeling them break under the impact. She leapt to her feet and went after the third and last, who had made some space for himself to draw his knife, the very one that he had cut her bindings with just a few moments earlier. She gave him no time, her speed shocking him, as he slashed at where she had just been. A blow to his neck, and he was fighting for his breath, another one, and he would never breath again. Lisa stood there breathing heavily, regaining her composure and her pride. The two of them were out for some time, and the third one dead. Looking for something to put on Lisa grabbed a jacket that one of them had discarded, and though it swamped her, she felt immediately better for having some cover to her nakedness. Now for the three thugs outside with their Uzi's. They may not prove so easy. Lisa eased up to the door inched it open and peeked through the crack. If they had heard the commotion, then they hadn't thought anything about it, but one was still cradling his gun, and the other two had them nearby. She didn't stand a chance of surprising them, but knew she didn't have long before someone from downstairs would be coming up, looking for their turn at the honey pot. She racked her brains, but could only think of one ruse, and with a curse, she slipped back out of the jacket, clasped her hands behind her back as if still bound, and quite deliberately stumbled naked into the outer room as if she'd been pushed. The guards leapt up, confirming to her that she wouldn't have got near them, and swept their guns round, relaxing when they saw a naked girl apparently getting to her feet. She stood and faced them, giving them plenty of time to leer at her breasts and pussy, giving them plenty of time to really want her. Still keeping her hands behind her, as if still bound, which is how they had last seen her, she walked over to them, carefully so as not to alarm them. They were anything but alarmed, there faces showing delight at the naked American girl in front of them, better than any picture, even in Playboy. She knew she had to get them all in range if she was to stand a chance, so walked over to them, thrusting her pert little breasts out challengingly. "Any of you a real man?" she demanded, offering no explanation as to what had happened inside. Two of them put down their guns, seeing no risk, and reached out for her, Lisa gritting her teeth as she allowed them to touch her breasts, forcing herself to not react as they squeezed them, and played with her nipples, clasping her hands tightly behind herself to prevent herself letting go and giving the game away, praying that the third guard would join in, or at least put his gun down, before she could take their rough pawing of her body no longer. "Not interested?" she shot at the third guard, still clutching his gun, but his mouth wide open, but he just smiled, content for the moment to watch his pals grope this extraordinary American. But at least he put his gun down. One of them reached down and hooked his finger up into the folds of her pussy, and she nearly gave in, and then he yanked it upwards, she had to, no longer able to support the abuse to her body, even though the third one was still out of her range. It was all too easy to begin with, the first two going down to just two blows, one clutching at his broken face, and the other slumping to the floor. Lisa sprang at the third, but he leapt aside, knocking the table flying, the Uzi spinning off across the other side of the room. He drew his knife, a long wicked looking dagger, and faced her, shocked at the carnage the slim naked girl had created in the space of seconds. She gave him no time to think, leaping at him, but it was her turn to be surprised, as he expertly wielded his weapon, demonstrating his skill with it, slashing at her with a backhand swipe, catching her on the top of her arm and drawing blood. Lisa jumped back and wiped her arm, happy to see it was just a flesh wound, before circling him, knowing full well that she had to act urgently. He made no effort to attack her, knowing the pressure was on her. She feinted to go right, then spun and went left, almost catching him out as she pushed in her attack, screaming in shock as she felt the knife slash across her left breast and down her chest, her blood spurting out to add to what was already there. "No good," she thought desperately. "With his knife I've no chance. He'll cut me to ribbons." Then she spotted her chance to escape, a long shot, but she was short on options. She leapt for the door, surprising him, yanked it open and fled, slamming it behind her. He rushed for his Uzi, grabbed it and charged to the door only a couple of seconds behind her, not long enough for her to escape. Pulling open the door, he jumped out into the corridor, bringing the gun up in one fluid movement, it's muzzle pointing down the corridor towards the stairs, her only escape route, to rake her fleeing body into a bloody mess. He realized his mistake as he saw an empty corridor in front of him, instinctively knowing she had tricked him, and that it was too late to rectify his error. Even as the blade of Lisa's hand chopped at his neck, from her position behind him, in the opposite direction, he yelled out in fear, but it was cut short, as the blow fell, and he slumped to the floor. Lisa stood there panting at her exertion, breathing in deeply to calm herself down, but time was still not on her side. She took up the Uzi, expertly checking the mechanism, and that the magazine was full, and spurning the luxury of the jacket, not having the time to waste, Lisa sped light-footedly along the corridor and bounded down the stairs, then across the hallway to the door of the big room. She halted, took three huge breaths, and slipped inside the room, bringing her machine gun up as she entered, a quick burst dropping the three on the right, and another taking down two more. Someone replied with a shot, but it went wide, and he paid for his error, along with the man alongside him. Lisa couldn't see any more standing, and did a quick count, calculating that there were still three missing, two of them her original tormenters from the camp. There was no sign of them, but then, in the shadows, she spotted the last one and froze, stunned to find that he was holding a gun straight at her. If he knew how to use it then she stood no chance, being dead before she could bring her gun to bear. She looked up at him expecting to feel the slug as he pulled the trigger, but at least she had taken out most of them, and would go down fighting. He was smiling at her! She could hardly believe it, he was smiling at her. It was the first guy in the room with her, the tall one, the one she had kissed, and he was smiling at her. Lisa watched in astonishment as he slowly and carefully put his gun down on the table beside him, and stepped away from it, but she lowered her gun in response. "Quickly, you haven't got much time," he said urgently. He took off his jacket and handed it to her to put on, and took her arm, telling her that he had a car outside. In a daze Lisa found herself being led out through the back door, and within moments she was being whisked away from the house of death. ------------------------------------------------ Two nights later Wahid and Khalid were at the camp, the men settling down for sleep, ready for a raid on a Government post the following morning. They were tensed up, and were nervous, keeping an eye open for anything out of the ordinary. When it came, they never even saw it. It had been launched from an American warship many miles away, and had hugged the contours of the ground as it sped towards them. When it exploded, nobody at the camp knew about it, all being obliterated by the blast. Wahid had made a fatal error, and the photo of Lisa, naked, had sparked an interest from the spy planes in that immediate area. The photo would come back to haunt Lisa, but she considered it a small price to pay. -------------------------------------------------- Two months on, Captain Lisa Roberts skipped happily up the entrance to the United Nations, wearing a short, thin summer dress, and wedge high heel sandals. The outfit showed her off to perfection, her bare arms and long legs golden brown after her holiday on the beaches of Dubai. Every man turned to give her a second look, all of them captivated by the beautiful slender young woman. Her hair had grown back, and though still short, curled around her slim neck. She looked anything but a tough soldier girl, though her crisp new uniform back at her barracks now sported a shiny new medal. There she met a tall good-looking man, a senior representative of his country. His features and dark skin suggested an Arab background, and he welcomed her with a smile that warmed her heart. They kissed, maybe a little longer than was the norm for a greeting, then arm in arm they walked off together, laughing and smiling at one another, as only lovers do.