3 comments/ 9634 views/ 4 favorites Shattered Boundaries Ch. 02 By: WalksAtDusk My apologies for the incredibly long delay. College started and I had to put my story on the back burner for quite a while. -------------------------------------------- Chapter Two: "PRAYER!? PRAYER!? You ignorant peasants, the end of days has come and gone!!! Hell has claimed the Earth and we are all damned!!!" A European Preacher's response when asked to lead a prayer service. "Anderson, Wake up," Sergeant Scott quietly called to the sleeping soldier. The corporal awoke immediately, but did not move until he had assessed the situation around him. The night was largely quiet, with only the occasional cricket being heard off in the distance. A quick glance around him confirmed all was well and he began moving into a kneeling position. Stiff muscles complained at being put into motion. Another glance, this time through various displays from his implants, put him at ease. Internally though he was still wound tight. The sleep had only taken the edge off of his emotions. Guilt still roiled about in the pit of his stomach, some of it directed at how quickly he had begun to recover, but he had lost many friends and teammates in the never ending stream of battles that this new century spat out. Anderson was the last soldier to be awoken and they all gathered around the freshly turned earth that covered the graves. Their somber mood was reflected by the world around them. The night was pitch black, with the few lonely stars in the sky being obscured by the tree tops. The cold, wet air around them created a dull ache in their bones and the unnerving silence of a country side nearly devoid of life pressed in around them. They each spoke a few words about their fallen brother, yet none would remember what was said. They all tossed a handful of dirt over each grave, but none would remember the act. As soldiers they all knew loss, but rarely did they ever have a moment to grieve. Those moments, when tears shown on the faces of the some of the hardest men on Earth, were about more than them. About more than even the two fallen warriors that lay at their feet. All the deaths that they had known, all the loss that they had locked away in their hearts bubbled to the surface. They shared their grief amongst each other, for only the people standing there with them could hope to understand. They were brothers in arms... brothers in life... and brothers in death... ------------------------- After the burial, the soldiers took a few moments to compose themselves and they got a closer look at the animals. Decay had set in at an incredibly rapid pace, with the carcasses seeming to have spent a week out in the sun rather than a few short hours in the night time. "Ugly looking bastards aren't they?" White spoke with a grimace. "That's for sure, bet you the intel guys will want to study them though. What do you think Sarge?" Anderson asked. Sergeant Scott had been sitting against a tree while his men looked at the creatures. It took him a few seconds to respond. The way his eyes stared unblinkingly with only an occasional twitch told the men that he was accessing one of the cerebral implant's functions. When he finally moved to stand he began speaking. "Satellite communications are down," he said with a growl, the irritation clear in his voice. "Until we can contact HQ, our orders stand. Take some pictures and mark these coordinates, we might be ordered to circle back for them." Anderson saluted and followed the sergeant's orders. He took out a small camera and snapped away. It brought a wry smile to his face that with all the abilities of the implant's, they did not have a record function. The JAFC, Joint Armed Forces Committee, had decided that the memory circuits would take up too much space and so the option was thrown out. "All set Sir," Corporal Anderson called out to the Sergeant. "Anderson, you have point on fire team Bravo. Keep the road in sight, there's a village a few miles from here that we've been getting reports of activity from," the sergeant told his men. "What kind of activity are we talking about Sarge?" Private White butted in. "Satellite imagery showed the roads clear of debris and a large number of vehicles popping up in different places." "Damn, whoever controls the area must be pretty well organized," White muttered. The soldiers' interest in the state of the roads and the movement of vehicles stemmed from the fact that most vehicles outside of the North American continent were inoperable. The same EMP blasts that had disabled the power grids of the world's nations had also damaged the electric systems in most vehicles. The only ones still drivable were heavily shielded military transports, or vehicles in remote areas. Coupled with a complete breakdown in fuel refinement and trade, only a powerful group could gather the parts and fuel needed to maintain them. "Fire team Alpha on me, lets move out," The Sergeant ordered. The two teams took to either side of the cracked road and began the trek to their target. They moved silently through desolate fields. Weeds and hardy plants had begun to overtake their weaker, bioengineered cousins. In the distance the remains of farmhouses could be seen as they crumbled away before the onslaught of time. All around the soldiers were signs of nature dissolving and reintegrating the orderly, yet sickly version of itself that mankind had created. The chilly early morning air hung thick with fog as the squad moved through it. Their fiber optics inlaid body armor did its best mimic the swirling vapors around it making them appear as wandering specters of the dead. Only as they approached their target did the sun finally begin to melt away their white shrouds. Once the outskirts of the village were in sight, Sergeant Scott issued new orders to the second fire team. "Anderson, we're coming up on the objective. I need your team to break south and set up an over watch position. There is a particular hill on the south side of town that should give you an unobstructed view over most of the area. Tell me what we're dealing with once you get up there." "Yes Sir," came the Corporal's quick reply. Anderson and his team moved to obey their new orders and circled around the small town. They continually glanced towards it hoping to catch sight of the enemy. Various bits of unidentifiable debris littered the roads. The buildings had a forlorn look to them with their crumbling facades and shattered windows. The wind blew threw the openings and created a strange keening noise as if the town cried out in grief over its departed denizens. Eventually they finished circling around and came to the more rugged terrain on the other side of the ruins. Although there were many hills and valleys undulating across the landscape, the one they sought was easy to pick out. There were broken plasteel barriers and twisted expanses of metal, whose purpose was no longer discernable. The side of the hill nearest to them was pockmarked by explosions from some long forgotten battle. The pits they formed colored black and only the occasional weed daring to poke its head from the scarred earth. Anderson suspected the other side would luck much the same. "Bravo 1-5 to Dagger-1 Actual, position is in sight and we are moving to secure. Break. We are reading bingo hostiles on all sensors, Over," Anderson transmitted to Sergeant Scott. "Dagger-1 copies all, you are clear to proceed," came back the Sergeant's gruff voice. Gesturing to his team, Anderson moved them up. They walked carefully so as not to trip any unexploded ordinance that might have been left on the hill. Private White was the first to reach the top and he let out a soft exclamation at what was on the other side. As each soldier reached him their eyes widened slightly at the sight below them. Nearly as far as the eye could see were the burnt out husks of armored vehicles. Foxholes and weapons emplacements littered the open areas between them. The worst part of the scene, however, was how the land and everything on it was burned black. Not a single splash of any other color existed to disrupt the morbid landscape laid out before them. "There must have been one hell of a battle here," Private White spoke in amazement. "Looks like someone used one of those Earth Scorcher bombs," Anderson responded. The Earth Scorcher weapon system had been an experimental missile being developed by some of the European powers before the war. The Asian Superpowers and America had abandoned the project due to its unpredictable nature. The Europeans had continued on it as an answer to the larger nuclear arsenals of China, India, and the United States. The Earth Scorcher essentially did what its named suggested, it created an intense burst of heat that would burn through most objects, including several feet of dirt. The size and power of the explosion could never be certain though, due to the weapon's reliance on environmental factors. In theory, an Earth Scorcher could destroy an area the size Rhode Island and that is what made it so popular amongst smaller powers. Typically though, damage a midsize missile could do was about the size of a small city, as the field in front of the soldiers bore testament. "Right, well that's enough staring at the scenery, we need to set up our positions and cover Alpha Team," Anderson ordered his men. Three of the soldiers set up defensive positions lower on the hill to protect their comrades, while White unpacked his XT-13 Sniper Rifle. Anderson got out the gear to act as White's spotter and they began a methodic search for the enemy presence in the town. While they concentrated on their tasks, one of the soldiers lower down the hill began hearing a rhythmic thumping noise. At first it was a continuous series of light thuds but then more thuds began sounding out of sync with the first set. He sent up an alert to his squad mates as the noises grew nearer and they began searching for its source. After a while they all recognized the sounds.... Someone was running. The now arrhythmic sounds suggested more than one person. Anderson was the first to find the runners with his more powerful spotting equipment. On the side of the hill that they had come from was the edge of a small forest. The foliage was too thick to see the people, but Anderson was tracking them through infrared settings. There was one smaller figure apparently being chased by two larger figures. Warning two of the other soldiers to keep an eye on their sectors in case this was a distraction, he began sending targeting data to White's implants. If the three figures continued on their current path, they would become visible in just a few moments. His prediction proved true as they burst through the foliage. The first person to become visible sent a deep shock through the soldiers.... It was a woman...and young at that. After the cataclysm of the war, the ratio of women to men had dropped sharply. The exact reasons were still in debate but women had become an extremely rare sight as they were jealously guarded by any group that could find them. Even in North America, interactions between men and women were carefully monitored to protect them. Kidnapping and raping of women had become a crime punishable by death in many states and provinces. As the bearers of humanity's future they were to be defended at all costs. The soldiers' surprise was quickly suppressed, though, as they caught sight of her pursuers. Covered in mismatched pieces of French body armor and carrying older model assault rifles, these were obviously members of the raider group that they were searching for. Anderson became conflicted, he wanted to protect the young woman but he couldn't give his fire team's position away so soon. The decision was quickly made for him, though, when White caught sight of the young woman. He had been attempting to adjust the zoom on his scope so he could see the targets that were much closer than the town he had been searching through. As they figures came into focus, he had locked on to the first figure, not having seen that she was a woman or that she was being chased, as the others had. When he caught sight of her face, something happened to him. He let out one shuddering breath before his mind seemed to go completely blank. Into that void came the image of the young woman... Soft blond locks that flowed out behind her... sun-kissed skin tinged with a healthy glow.... Ruby red lips parted ever so slightly...... and striking blue eyes widened in fear... Fear... The word resounded in his mind and he caught hold of it. A voice seemed to speak to him, telling him that he could not allow such a small, delicate creature to experience such a cold and dark emotion. And so he acted to do just that. Snapping his sights towards the two figures chasing her, he took in the trajectory data that Anderson had forgotten he was sending. White never even noticed that the two men were raiders, they were his enemies because they chased the girl and that was all he needed to know. He pulled the trigger once and the first raider's feet flew out from under him as he dropped dead. White's rifle pushed back on him as the recoil struck and it ejected the spent shell. Before the shell fell to the ground next to him, he had already let loose a second shot. The remaining raider's head exploded, the expression of surprise and confusion that was spreading over it never having been completed. Anderson whipped his head around to look at his friend. Shocked that he had acted without orders, he could only stare at him. Remembering the young woman he glanced back down the hill to see what effect the sudden deaths of her pursuers had on her. Another round of shock coursed through him at seeing her. She had not slowed her pace at all, and continued running up the side of the hill. But what had really surprised him, was the wide smile that she now had and the happiness that practically danced in her eyes. White had begun to recover his wits and was equally amazed over his audacity at shooting without an order as Anderson was. He did not even register the young woman closing in until she was nearly on top of them. In daze, he forgot how visible he could be on the hill top and began standing. As he reached his full height, a weight suddenly slammed into him and nearly sent him tumbling down the hillside. Reflexively his arms closed around the object as something warm and soft was seemingly trying to burrow its way into him. Looking down, he was finally able to focus his eyes, although his mind was doing its best to reject what he was seeing. The beautiful blonde had reached them and was hugging him as if he might float away. Anderson knelt beside them, as confused and surprised as the second dead raider had nearly become. Not sure what was going on, or what to do about it, he began to speak. "Miss, are you alright," he questioned the young woman. She either did not hear him or ignored him. Anderson thought it could be either one as she had her eyes closed and seemed oblivious to anything beyond Private White. As he thought this, he glanced up to his friend and gave him a questioning look. The expression that White responded with made it clear that he was just as lost. "Dagger-1 Actual to Bravo 1-5, what the hell is going on over there!" The interruption through the radio made both soldiers jump a bit and Anderson fumbled for his transmitter. "Uhm... This is Bravo 1-5.... We came across two hostiles.... And we now have a.... civilian... here with us..." Anderson haltingly responded to Sergeant Scott. There was a pause before the Sergeant responded, "Bravo 1-5 switch over to the secure channel." Anderson tuned his transmitter and spoke, "...Sir?" "Tell me exactly what the hell happened corporal." "Well... we were setting up our positions on the hill when we heard at least two people running toward us from the forest. When they broke cover we saw it was a girl being chased by two militiamen that I believe were members of the raider group we are searching for. White... shot them both before anyone was really sure what was going on..." The pause and cold undercurrent in the Sergeants next words spoke volumes. "Gather your fire team and regroup with us at the fallback position... I'd like to have a word with Private White." The now nervous Corporal Anderson took a moment to compose himself before he began issuing orders in a clear commanding tone. "All units gather up, our orders have changed and we are moving out." A simultaneous, "Roger," came from the soldiers below. Anderson looked over at the unmoving couple and gestured to White that he needed to pack up his rifle. Slowly nodding, White laid a hand on the young woman's shoulder to try to get her attention. "Miss, we need to get moving... more of those men might be on their way soon." The young blonde looked up at him and pouted, but she let go of him. They all quickly gathered their equipment and formed up, stealing glances at the girl all the while. After hiding the bodies of the two raiders, Anderson led the team through the woods. It would take longer to move through the forest, but the young woman was obviously no soldier, and they did not have any spares of their fiber optics inlaid body armor so they needed all the cover they could get. The young woman followed closely behind White, giving them all the impression of a puppy that had just found its owner. They would all soon come to realize how apt that impression really was. At the moment though, Anderson found it strange that she walked even more quietly then some of his fellow soldiers. Occasionally, yet inevitably, the snapping of a twig or the crunch of a leaf would ring out from under their feet, yet the girl seemed to always know where to step so that she wouldn't make any sounds. It did not seem quite right that she should be able to do that. With that thought he began to remember the last night's events. The attacks by the strange animals and the appearance of the other woman. He had some doubts over whether the later event was not just a dream, but regardless, some very strange things were happening. After an hour of silent marching they reached the rendezvous point and the other fire team disengaged their armor's camouflage. It seemed to the arriving soldiers that their comrades were chunks of the landscape that had melted off, then coalesced into their friends. Anderson and White walked up to the sergeant, with the young woman in tow. Their mood was somewhat somber as they both expected to be reprimanded. Even if the shots had not been heard by the enemy, the two dead men would be missed sooner or later. The Sergeant looked them up and down, perfectly mimicking a father displeased with the antics of his children. The only flaw in his demeanor was a slight twitch of irritation because of the young woman. She was practically dancing with joy and for the life of them, none of the soldiers could figure out why she was acting so strangely. The sergeant decided to give the two soldiers a momentary reprieve while he tried to figure out the young lady. He calmed himself and gathered his patience, he suspected she might not be completely there. Who knew what kind of trauma she may have suffered out here and what effect it would have had on her mind. "Young lady," he spoke softly," what's your name?" She tilted her head and bounced on one foot as she thought. When she began to speak, Sergeant Scott was immediately drawn to her innocent, wide eyed expression. "I don't have one." Even the soldiers that had been diligently watching for enemy activity stared at her. Her voice was soft and had an almost musical quality. Hearing her speak gave the toughened soldiers a sensation that they would never openly admit to, but could only be described as warm and fuzzy. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 02 At the end of a long night of fucking, after Jim had finished thrashing out his repressed frustrations on my ass and his orgasm had drained away his wrath; along with a flood of his semen into my exhausted hole. He would look into my eyes and smile a wicked little smile. I would move the world to see that wicked little smile again today. I first met Jim at the baths. He coaxed me into his room then demonstrated his dominance by working me up to a frenzy by whipping me across the face with his enormous cock until I was reduced into his sexual plaything. He sat me on the floor and described his expectations of my surrender to him, silencing any dissent by stuffing his large hairy balls into my mouth. Jim told me he would not be my Master, I would not be his mindless slave. He would never bark commands or inflict corporal punishment. He did expect any directions he gave to be performed to his satisfaction without question. He made it very clear that there would be serious repercussions if he became displeased with my performance or attitude. I knelt gagged on the floor for a long time listening as Jim described a life where the sexual dominant partner held complete control therefore removing from the submissive all confusion and responsibility. Allowing the submissive freedom to release all resistance and become totally open without boundaries, to move beyond any limited definition of who they are. As I knelt there with my dick throbbing and aching for release; I was completely baffled by the idea of allowing oneself to be taken and consumed as the sexual possession of a strong and dominant man. In spite of my knees going numb and my mouth going dry, making it difficult to swallow, I remained spellbound on the hard bare floor at Jim's feet. Jim sensed my growing excitement but also my distress and allowed me to let his balls drop from my mouth. It pained me to break our flesh to flesh connection. I wanted to again feel the weight of his large powerful cock as it smacked me across the face, I wanted to feel the warmth of his leathers against my naked body. I wanted to taste the juices his huge cock would feed me. It was then that Jim decided I should go and fetch some cold drinks, I tried to cover myself with a towel but Jim pulled it off me, leaving me wearing only the speedo had given me to model for him. Having a huge speedo fetish he wanted to watch my ass in the speedo as I walked away. I ventured out into the hallway, feeling very much more than naked in the tight black speedo. The large hole cut out of the back of the speedo was an open invitation for any horny man to grab my ass. My stiff dick stuck out clearly as if on display for everyone to see. It was humiliating to be dressed up like a little slut. I hurried to the front desk and ordered drinks from the attendance, a hulking muscled stud in a sleeveless shirt. His gaze took a tour of my body, pausing at the speedo to check out my package. He said with a laugh, "I see you've met Big Jim. I bet your ass is going to be sore!" I picked up the drinks and turned knowing I had to display my bare backside to this big oaf as I walked away. I had not taken two steps, when he yelled out, "HOT BUTT, if you're not too sore, you can ride my cock too. I was so distracted by the realized that if you looked like a slut, you got treated like a slut that I was not looking where I was going and bumped into someone. "Is one of those for me?" the man joked as his hand felt up the front of my speedo, grabbing at my dick. "OH! You are happy to see me!" he chirped. I tried to fend off the lecherous man by backing away but I only succeeded in running my bare ass into another man who had suddenly come up behind me. Suddenly I was trapped between the two men who encircled their arms around me. The man behind me dropped his towel and ground his cock into my bare backside as he reached around my chest to twist my nipples with his finger tips. With my hands full and all these hands fondling my body, it was hard to free myself. For a moment all this attention to my dick and ass began to feel so very good. It reminded me how horny I was and how much I longed for the release of coming. It was becoming obvious that if I could not free myself soon I was going to get fucked by these two guys and maybe many more. I imagined being bent over as men lined up to force their hard cocks up my ass while other men took turns shooting hot loads of cum down my throat. I was jarred back to reality when I felt a pair of hot hands separating my ass cheeks and the head of a cock being poked at my asshole. I jammed one of the cold drinks into the stomach of one of my tormentors, causing him to jump back and allowing me to make my escape. When I finally returned to Jim's room, I was even more red faced and mortified then when I left. I opened Jim's door to discover he had packed up his gear and gone. The shock of being dumped by him felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. On the bunk I found a note from Jim. It said he was concerned that commitments made in the heat of passion were often regretted in the sober light of day. He directed that in a week if I still was willing to surrender myself, relinquishing all resistance and limitations, I should come to him. Bewildered and disappointed I sank onto the bunk, reading and rereading his note. A few minutes later the bath attendant who had made the rude remarks about my ass, entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him. A big grin broke out across his face as he pulled open his pants exposing his cock and balls, tied up in a leather cock ring. He said he was happy to see I had waited for him. I stood up to leave the room but he shoved me back on the bed, commenting, "What's your hurry little slut?" He grabbed me by the back of the head and held me tight with one of his huge powerful hands as he pounded his cock in to my mouth. He ordered me to suck, ordered me to make him hard. I knew then there would be no easy escape from this hulk of a man. I closed my eyes and locked my lips around his cock. His cock stiffened and grew very long very fast. It filled my mouth and choked me as he stuffed it down the back of my throat. He grabbed the waistband of my speedo, using it to lift me up onto all fours. He removed his cock from my mouth then lobbed up some spit, smearing it into my asshole and placed the bulbous red head of his cock to my hole. He said his cock was not as large as Jim's but,"I know how to give a little slut like you a sore ass." He shifted his weight forward forcing his cock into my asshole, I felt my anus give way under the pressure. The sensation of my anus being broken opened knocked the air from my lungs. As I struggled to take a breath of air, he continued to stretch me open until the head of his cock slipped inside my asshole. I felt my anus tightened a little, holding his cock-head in place at the entrance to my hole. I knew the next thrust of his hips would rocket his hard cock deep inside of me, causing me a ton of pain. There was a loud clicking sound as the announcement system for the baths was turned on. "Hank to the front desk, Hank to the front desk." an disembodied voice demanded. For a second he appeared to freeze uncertain what to do. I could feel his cock-head pressing against the inside of my asshole, it was heavy and hard like a rock. "Fuck No!" cursed the hunk who was about to rape my asshole. It was clear his name was Hank and while he was pumped and ready to give me a hell of a fucking, he was also being ordered back to work. It was at that moment, I realized that a part of me was terrified, praying he would drop me and return to work. However another part of me was tired of the internal battle with myself, tired of always playing the role of the good boy. Why was I refusing to admit the truth any longer, why was I denying my authentic wanton nature? I needed to be violated; needed to be stuffed full of cock and cum; needed to be treated like a little slut. I needed to surrender myself totally to be used and abused by a strong powerful man. In a way I was thankful to this man who was about to rape my ass, he had helped me to distinguish my wants from my needs. I did not want to be with Jim, I needed to belong to Jim, I needed it as much as I needed air. Hank yanked his cock from my ass, announcing in a tough tone that a quick fuck with a slut was not worth losing his job over. He slapped me across the butt and said, "I'll save you a big load for next time, Slut!" I grabbed my towel and Jim's note, then fled never looking back. I knew then the direction I wanted my life to take. At the time it looked so clear and simple, I had no idea of the carnal challenges waiting ahead of me. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 02 "Why not?" the Sergeant reflexively questioned. "My master has not given me one yet," she responded, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "Your master?" "Yes." The Sergeant was becoming increasingly confused. Something about this girl was just not right. Taking a breath, he decided that they best way of dealing with her was to play along and learn how she saw the world. Direct questions were obviously not going to get him the information he wanted. "O.K.... Who is your master then, miss?" He continued questioning. A wide grin split her face and joy seemed to dance in her eyes as it had on the hilltop. She jumped at Private White and gave him another bone crushing hug. Her voice happily rang out as she answered, " He is!" Shattered Boundaries Ch. 03 Chapter 3: "We were given a chance to become gods.... We alone held dominion over all life on this world... and yet we destroyed everything we touched." United Nations Secretary General Her voice happily rang out as she answered, " He is!" The Sergeant was momentarily stunned.... but a memory sparked in his mind. Hostages and other captives would sometimes form powerful bonds with their saviors. Her reaction seemed a little severe, even for such a case, but it had to be the answer. He looked up at Private White to see what effect her announcement had on him and noticed a strange expression. He could not quite pin down what was going through the soldier's thoughts. Unfortunately White wouldn't have been much help in explaining. At the young woman's words, a warring mix of emotions filled him. A warm, pleased sensation was the first, but on its heels came worry and concern. He should not have felt so pleased. The young woman was obviously not in her right frame of mind. Once back with the Bleu's she would be pampered and cared for.... She did not need to become attached to a soldier that was destined for an early grave... "Miss," the Sergeant said soothingly, " we will help you get to a safe place. I'm sure you appreciate Private White's help in stopping those men from chasing you, but you have to understand... he's not your master. Sergeant Scott held his breath while he waited for a response. If he remembered correctly, victims of abuse would sometimes build up a fantasy world and lash out at anyone that threatened it. She did not verbally respond. The young woman only gave him a gentle smile with a tinge of pity in her eyes. The Sergeant inwardly groaned, every woman in the world seemed to practice that look from the cradle. She was conveying pity for an idiotic statement, but did not want to embarrass him in front of his friends. "White, you and Alpha team stay here and keep an eye on her. Anderson you and me are going to see what we can salvage from this mission." Scott did not even feel like reprimanding the two soldiers anymore. He wanted to help the young lady, but she was giving him a headache. "Yes, Sir," they both responded, with White looking less than enthusiastic about staying behind with the girl. But the Sergeant was not about to risk her chasing after the object of her affection and throwing a monkey wrench in their mission again. As they struck out once more towards the town, the Sergeant began grilling Anderson on what they had seen. The corporal described the ruins and disconcerting lack of activity in them. They both went quite as Scott thought on what information they had managed to gather. "Wait a second," the Sergeant suddenly spoke. "Where did those two militia men come from again?" "The portion of the forest to our south, sir," Anderson responded quizzically. "The sons of bitches are using the town to store the vehicles, but that's not where they are hiding!" Realization dawned on the corporal. The girl had been running in a nearly straight line, wherever they had come from had to be in the forest. He silently cursed himself for not having seen it sooner. Beside him, the Sergeant had called a halt to their march and gotten out a holographic display of the area. The satellite images had been combined into a three dimensional layout of the town and surrounding lands. Scanning over the forest, he pointed at a particular spot. "Does this section of the treetops look a little off to you?" he asked with a hint of glee in his voice. Anderson looked where he was pointing and nodded. The area in question had a patch of treetops that seemed flat and unnatural. The raiders had likely strung up an old camouflage net. If they had not been looking for any oddities in the forest they would have missed it. He sent up a silent thanks that they had not gotten their hands on any of the more modern camouflage equipment. A decent holoprojector would have perfectly mimicked the trees around them. "Dagger-1 actual to Alpha 1-6, suspected enemy position has changed, be aware of enemy patrols in the forest itself, over," the Sergeant transmitted to the men left behind. Alpha 1-6 copies, over," came the response. "It looks like we need to change course, lets move out," he said while gesturing at his men to follow. -------------------------------------------------- Back in the woods, an awkward silence had fallen over the other fire team. None of them were quite sure how to deal with the young lady and those that were not patrolling tried to look busy. White wanted to try to help her but was unsure how or what exactly to help her with. He was not a psychologist by any stretch of the imagination. Making matters even more awkward, when he sat up against a tree she had immediately settled in his lap and closed her eyes, though he could tell she was not asleep. Sighing, he supposed that the first thing to do was figure out a name. They needed something better to address her with than simply Miss. "Uhm... so you say you don't have a name...?" He nervously asked her. She looked up at him with a sleepy smile and answered, "You haven't given me one yet, Master." White coughed and looked around, as if hoping someone would come to his rescue. "Please, call me Jonathan..." Her smile widened a bit, " Yes, Master Jonathan." "No, No, No. No master, just Jonathan." She tilted her head to think in that cute way that White was falling in love with. "Yes, Mas... Jonathan," she quickly corrected herself. White sighed with relief and came back to the matter of her name. "So you've never had a name before?" "I've never found you before," she said with a note of confusion in her voice. "No, I mean to say hasn't anyone else ever given you a name?" Her eyes fell as she answered, "The mean ones called me bad things...." Her good mood quickly returned though as she continued. "But Sister always protected me, and now I'm with my master!" Her smile was radiant and White felt guilty that she seemed to think so highly of him. His mind caught on to what she had said though. "You have a sister?" he questioned "Yes, she's my bond-sister. She has really pretty hair. Its red like fire," she happily answered. "Where is she?" The young lady pointed south, deeper into the forest. White thought and realized that it was the same general direction she had been running from. He cursed silently. The raiders must have her. "Cameron," he spoke to the team leader. "Yes?" "You have to tell the Sergeant, the militiamen are holding another woman." Cameron turned to his transmitter and sent the message. After Bravo team confirmed that they understood, White tried to relax a little. The Sergeant would come up with a plan to rescue her. White remembered his original reason for conversation though and turned back to the girl. "Ok, well we have to call you something... do you have any names you like?" She looked at him as if he had just spoken gibberish, "The one that you will give me." Of course... White thought. "Well we have to figure out what name I'm going to give you then." Her expression did not change one bit. "You already know it." It was his turn to look at her as if she had spoken gibberish, "But I just met you, how am I supposed to know it?" White was confused and worried, but her next words sent him into an even higher state of alarm. "You've known my name since the day that you created me, Mas... Jonathan." -------------------------------------------------- "Well boys, you heard Cameron, we have a hostage situation on our hands.," Sergeant Scott told his men after receiving the transmission. "But Sir, aren't we just here to do recon?" one of the soldiers spoke with worry in his voice. "Yes we are, but if we just happen to rescue a few people... well, I don't think we'll hear any complaints.... Will we private?" Scott looked poignantly at the soldier that had spoken. "N-no sir," came the stuttered response. "Good, lets keep moving." While they continued on their way towards the camouflaged area of the forest, Scott took the time to mull things over. The Private had been right, this was a recon mission and he would face the consequences for acting outside that role. But he was not about to let those bastards hurt another women. The girl that they were watching over was definitely going to need psychiatric help he thought, not knowing the odd turn that White's conversation with her had taken. Who knew what kind of condition the girl that they were looking for was in.... A memory surfaced in his mind of another time... another life. He had been a rookie police officer before the world went to hell. There had been a call about a potential break in. The neighbors had heard screaming and objects being thrown. The man that lived there had always been quiet and never had company over according to them. It turned out that he had a permanent resident no one knew about.... She was a young thing... malnutrition had made her body even smaller and more frail looking,,, Apparently she had attempted to escape and he caught her. It was a wonder that there was enough of her left in that withered body to even try. By the time they got there, he had already hidden her.... But the trail of blood led them right to her... The thing he remembered most about her was her eyes... sunken and lifeless... she stared ahead, unblinking.... They only knew she was alive because she was still bleeding... He was not simply going to follow his orders and let that tragedy play itself out again, he would get that girl out of there. His hand rose and gestured for his men to halt. They were nearing the suspected raider position. "Set full body camo, and spread out. Remember to keep all communications silent," he ordered. Looking over to his language expert, "Carlos, I want you to tap into their communications and find where they are holding that young woman. Kill one of them and take their radio if you have to, just hide the body." After pulling down their face plates, the team of soldiers saluted the Staff Sergeant and melted into the forest. The only evidence of their passage was a vague displacement of light that one would see out of the corner of their eye. To many it might have seemed counter intuitive to go sneaking around in broad daylight, but the enemy would be relying much more heavily on their sight, making the light bending armor even more of an advantage. Anderson was one of the first to come across evidence of the raiders' presence. Broken twigs, bent grass, and the occasional muddy footprint gave away the fact that there were patrols nearby. Doubtless they thought they were stealthy, but they were like elephants stumbling through the jungle to the experienced scout. He did have to give some credit to their trainers though. He knew first hand how difficult it was to teach militiamen to be stealthy. Part of the 34th Division's duties was training militia so that the Drapeau Bleu regulars would not be spread so thin. He followed a good distance from the tracks, only occasionally coming closer to be sure he was still on the right path. There was always the off chance that they were left on purpose in order to lure enemies into an ambush. His squad had not survived Central America by underestimating their opponents. Even after the continental divide was secured, there was the occasional incursion by enemies that slipped around the front lines. They were usually just lucky militia units, but every once in a while you would get a former South American Special Operations squad. A Brazilian commando had nearly put a round between Anderson's eyes by laying a false trail. Unfortunately for him, Anderson had noticed the glint off a piece of equipment that the commando had not secured correctly...Now he took extra precautions, he could not rely on such luck forever. After a while he came on to what was obviously a high traffic area. The clear outline of a well-worn path was visible, with so many shoe and boot prints that they were indistinguishable from each other. He sent off a shortwave transmission marking the area on his Sergeant's display. With satellite communications down, they had to rely on the maps they had stored in their implants. It would have been much nicer to see all of their squad positions marked on a constantly updating display, but one just had to make do. He continued along and came in sight of some modular buildings. If there had been any doubt as to whether there were ex-soldiers in the group, they disappeared at the sight of the base. It was an orderly array of tents and collapsible buildings. Various pieces of communications equipment could be seen through openings. Tables held numerous maps with notations and arrows scrawled on them. Anderson should have felt some satisfaction at finding the enemy's base of operations, maybe even anticipation at the coming rescue attempt, but he did not. Instead every hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he dared not move. His senses told him that something was very wrong. There was no movement in the camp at all. After seeing the amount of wear on that path behind him, he estimated that there should be a sizable force here. Yet he did not see any activity. Looking around carefully he took note of all the little details. The radios would occasionally crackle with static, so whatever happened, it was a short time ago. There were turned over pieces of furniture and doors left wide open, so it happened fast and possibly surprised them. Looking at the ground he noted the most recent footprints. They were deeper on the front and a few did not have a heel visible at all, so they were running. The direction was odd though, they all pointed towards the center of the base. He alerted his team to his location and waited, hoping to catch a sign of any potential ambush. After about half an hour, nothing had happened and the others had closed in around the buildings. They all reported the same thing, signs of recent occupation, but no activity. All over the base they also noted the footprints of raiders that had run towards the center. "Alright boys, looks like we're gonna have to go in and find out what the hell happened here. Move slowly and be ready for anything," came the Sergeant's whisper over their headsets. The team members heard him and moved into the base's perimeter. Fully expecting an ambush to spring, they were surprised when they reached the first tents and everything remained quiet. As they cleared each space, one of them came upon a grisly discovery. "Sergeant, I have a dead hostile here.... It doesn't make sense though, there are spent shell casings everywhere, but it looks like he was killed with a knife...," the soldier reported to Sergeant Scott. The soldier then bent down and checked for more clues as to how someone had killed a fully armed man with a blade. Checking the rifle next to the body he noted only two rounds left in the magazine. It looked like a thirty round clip, and as he counted the shell casings, his worry increased. All the shooting in here was done by the dead man. So now it was a question of who could kill an armed man with a knife... while he was shooting at them. All around the base, similar scenes were being found. Every corpse was outfitted in pieces of French body armor and all of their weapons had been fired at least once. They could not find any bodies that did not seem to belong to the raider group... and all of the dead had knife wounds. "Sir... this ain't right... we need to get the hell out of here," came a fearful soldier's voice through Scott's headset. "Stow it Private. We came here to rescue a defenseless young woman and I'll be damned if I turn tail at the sight of a few dead bodies," he responded harshly. They all reached the center at roughly the same time and retching noises were heard soon after. "It's a bloody massacre..." whispered one of the soldiers that was not busy vomiting. The clear area in the center of the buildings had probably been used for drills and announcements by the raiders, but now it bore witness to a much more gruesome audience. Dead bodies littered the ground. Everywhere the North Americans looked there were more corpses. Their clothes were covered in their encrusted blood and puddles of the thick, red liquid had formed on the hard packed earth. An enormous cloud of flies created an almost deafening buzz as they ate their fill of decaying flesh. And the smell.... Was just horrific. The bodies had obviously been laying out there for hours and the scent of voided bowels and rotting corpses formed a sickening stench like no other. The same circumstances of death surrounded these bodies as well, though. Shell casings everywhere but no dead attackers. And even at the distance the soldiers stood, knife wounds were visible on all of them. Anderson had only studied the bodies for a few seconds though. As some of his comrades noisily emptied their stomachs he thought he heard movement coming from the building nearest to him. He peered in through a window and could see something shifting around in the shadows. He immediately signaled the others and those that had lifted their faceplates quickly snapped them down to become invisible once more. They surrounded the single entrance of the building module. Being the closest, it fell to Anderson to open the door. He took a deep breath and tested the handle while standing to the side. Surprisingly, it was unlocked and as he finished turning it, the door quietly swing inwards. They all waited a few tense seconds, but not a single sound came from the interior. Anderson slowly peeked around the corner. What he saw brought him immediate relief, tempered by caution. He now stood fully in the doorway as he studied the inhabitants. All of them were dressed in civilian clothing, or at least what remained of it. A few wore tattered bits of old shirts and pants. There were no weapons or body armor in sight, though, and this led Anderson to believe that what he was looking at was a room full of hostages and slaves. He did not disengage his cloaking device though, he wanted to study them and hopefully catch any threats that might be hiding among them. They all looked straight through him, not knowing that they were being watched. One and all, they had looks of fear and despair painting their features. That's when he noticed the one that knelt in the corner... Long red hair that fell somewhere past her shoulders... pale, perfectly unblemished skin...This time she did not have an outfit made of leather straps at least.... Or a tail...As far as he could see... A ball of ice seemed to settle in his stomach. With his heart pounding loudly and his breathing becoming erratic, he realized that she must be the woman that they were looking for. The only other people in the room were men. Stiffly, he turned around towards where his sergeant should be. He paused for a moment before he began walking. If anyone else had been looking in the room, they would have noticed something strange. As Anderson turned his back to the room, the young woman with the fiery red hair had glanced up. Unlike the men around her who looked beyond the doorway for what had opened it, her gaze focused right where Anderson stood. A mischievous smile flickered across her lips as he began walking away. Anderson flicked up his face plate and disengaged his camouflage. Taken it as the all clear signal, the others disengaged theirs as well. "Sir, we have a room full of civilians in there. About ten men... and one woman," Anderson's voice hitched as he thought about the redhead. "Alright, lets get them out of there," Scott responded. As they introduced themselves and brought out the hostages, the Sergeant was too preoccupied with his joy at saving the young woman to remember to check them for weapons. No one noticed the blood encrusted knife that she slipped into her pocket. Nor did they notice how all the men seemed to shy away and cast fearful glances at her. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 03 A black leather gloved hand crawls like a spider up my leg, leaving in it's wake a trail of tingling flesh. It lingers to caress the muscles of my inside thigh before a single leather finger slips between my ass cheeks, stealing softly towards my asshole. A dark figure leans in close, his hot breath scorches my skin as he whispers, "Who owns your ass?" My body unexpectedly lurches forward as the taxi suddenly pulls to a stop, snapping me back into reality. It has been a week since Jim abandoned me at the baths, telling me to take the time to carefully consider the decision I was about to make; the time had come. "Are you sure this is where you want to go?" the taxi driver asked. No, I am not sure this is where I belong, I think to myself. I am not certain of anything anymore since I started this maddening double life. This last week I was barely able to function in my "True" Monday to Friday, suit and tie life. I had barely developed a relationship with this man yet my desire to prostrate myself naked in front of him snowballs every day. For a brief moment in the taxi, I hesitate but I know deep down that there is no escaping, neither awake or asleep from my second, "Secret" life with Jim. There is no making sense of how this obsession took control of me that first night but it's influence draws me out of the taxi and into the front door of Jim's decaying apartment building My life before this last week, had been amazingly carefree and easy. Being small in stature I appeared much younger than my years. This with my dark hair and clear pale skin give me an innocent angelic appearance making it easy to play the role of the good boy and allowing me a free pass to most of life's hardships. My life did have a dark side, from an early age my youthful and innocent appearance was like an aphrodisiac to some men, drawing them to me like bees to honey. While it appeared that butter would not melt in my mouth, it was not butter these men imagined slipping between my lips. I found their uncontrollable desire to pursue and seduce me frightening. I was far too young to understand their advances or my own growing dark desires to be seduced so I fled. I kept fleeing up to that moment I stood at the threshold of Jim's apartment. I nervously glanced up and down the hallway, praying that none of Jim's neighbors would discover me standing there. My mouth went dry, my body trembled in excitement and anticipation of the unknown which lay waiting for me behind this door. I took a deep breath then removed my shirt; the cool air against my back sent a chill up my spine. I continued removing one article at a time until I was wearing only my underwear. Noises from behind the building manager's door made me jump but it was too late to retreat. I tried not to imagine what Jim's spying neighbors were witnessing. I looked down at my white boxers; thinking how fitting it is they are white, a symbol of a new life. I knew that my carefree life of playing the role of the good boy was behind me. I swallowed hard and let my boxers drop to the ground exposing my true authentic submissive self as vulnerable and undefended as my nude body. Totally naked, I picked up the speedo Jim left with me last week and stepped through the door. Jim was sitting in an old armchair, smoking a cigar. Hanging over the arm of his chair were wrist and leg restraints. Jim wore: an old greying jock strap, black leather boots, black leather chaps, black leather vest and a pair of black leather gloves. There is nothing handsome about Jim's face, he has the face and body of a man who worked hard but played even harder. Booze, drugs and late nights have taken their toll. Jim pointed to a spot on the thread bare carpet between his boots. I understood; obeyed and rushed across the room; dropping to my knees at his feet. His leather gloved hands grabbed me by the ears and forced my head forward, burying my face deep into his overstuffed jock strap. I could not see, speak or hear. I could only breathe in the heady aroma of Jim's jock. It smelled of cigar smoke, sweat and cock. It's pungent aroma blasted up my nostrils like a hit of poppers. The room began to spin, my heart skipped a beat and my dick grew hard. I felt Jim's cock growing stiff beneath the fabric of his jock. I opened my mouth and sucked on the fabric covering the head of his cock. The fabric tasted sour, it was coarse and rough against my lips but I did not let that stop me from sucking the head of Jim's cock into my mouth. As it crossed my lips I felt connected again. The built up tension of this week's separation from his manhood vanished as I was overwhelmed by the power of surrender. I drew Jim's cock further and further into my mouth as it swells, stretching the fabric of his jock. I cursed the flimsy material that separates our flesh to flesh contact. I imagined being on the receiving end of his cock when he climaxed, the stream of hot juicy liquid that would explode from his shaft and splatter against the roof of my mouth. I imagined the smell and the rich pungent taste of his semen. Jim suddenly released my head and whispered, "Stand up." I reluctantly released Jim's cock from my mouth and staggered to my feet, placing my hands behind my back. As I stood there catching my breath, I had the strangest feeling of being watched. I quickly glanced around the room to reassure myself we were alone. It was a shock to discover a man sitting on the couch who had witnessed me groveling at Jim's feet. I immediately became acutely self conscious of being naked with my hard dick pointing out in front of me. I instinctively moved my hands to cover my dick and balls. I could feel the blood rush to my face as my cheeks blushed scarlet red in embarrassment. "My God, he blushes just like a school boy caught jacking-off!" the man on the couch cried out. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 04 Chapter 4: "America is in its death throes... they would see the world burn before its true masters arise and so they have attacked us in the manner of a coward. They have sealed their fate and on this day, I PROMISE YOU BLOOD!!!" Paramount Leader of the People's Republic of China "You've known my name since the day that you created me, Mas... Jonathan." Private White stared at her, the words she had spoken not quite registering. As their meaning slowly seeped in, his confusion held steady, but a kernel of panic had already taken root. He feared she had completely lost her mind. "What do you mean... I created you?" "You created me..." she echoed, unsure what he wanted her to say. Then inspiration stuck her. Maybe he meant to ask how he had done it. "Sister says that Masters create us when they first understand their world." She smiled up at him, pleased that she had remembered a lesson from so long ago. But the smile faded when she saw he was still confused. She unhappily considered that she was failing her master. White stared at her and took a few moments weighing what he should say next. Every answer she gave only confused him more. "You said that your sister told you how you were created...? So she would know more about these things?" Perhaps the sister would be able to shed some light on what was going on. There was a chance that he would get more of the same, but he was not getting very far as things stood. "Bond-Sister," she waggled her finger as she corrected him. "Yes. She's really smart, she always answers all my questions." Her smile was full of pride for her bond-sister. White scratched his head at the another puzzle piece she had laid out before him. "What's the difference?" The look she gave him was so childishly indignant that he wanted to laugh. "Sisters have the same Master, but Bond-Sisters don't." She loved her bond-sister, but this was her Master and she was definitely not going to share. "Okay...." The answer made no sense to White, but he was not going to pursue it. At least he would not have to deal with another woman calling him master, he thought in relief. She stared at him with a pout, as if daring him to challenge her assertion, but a yawn spoiled her expression. Seeing this, White smiled and suggested that she get some rest. She was quick to snuggle closer and practically purred as she closed her eyes. He inwardly groaned. He had hoped she would lay down in the grass, not stay in his lap. But seeing no way out of this predicament, he accepted his fate. Sitting back more comfortably against the tree, he took a moment to study the young woman in his lap. She was perfect in every way he could imagine... From her shining blonde hair to her flawless, lightly tanned skin... Wait a second, shining hair and flawless skin?! His eyes began darting about, examining every detail of her appearance more closely. What he saw simply could not be right. She was in perfect health... despite being held captive by a group of armed men, on a bombed out continent that barely had any food. There wasn't a single sign of malnutrition or physical mistreatment anywhere he could see. The same words that had kept running in his mind since the attack by the creatures flashed once more, Something is very wrong here. He was worried and his mind flitted about through potential explanations, but none seemed very realistic. As he ran out of possibilities, he begrudgingly concluded that there was nothing more he could do for the time being. Feeling the strain of the past twenty-four hours weighing on him, he decided he would join her in getting some rest. As a soldier, he knew it was important to take every chance he could to sleep... Getting her back to the Bleu lines would not be easy. He felt of a stab of possessiveness shoot through him at the thought, but he shook it off. It was their duty to get her back, and the Bleus would take much better care of her than he could. The feeling would not completely dissipate though. He even found himself imaging a life with her in his near sleep. A little house up in Montana maybe.. Somewhere far from other people... As he grew closer to true slumber, his eyes closed and his thoughts lost clarity. They ran together in a jumble of images. And even those began to lose focus, until only a vague impression of colors was left. Eventually, he began to dream and those random colors coalesced into a new scene. He stood in his body armor outside of a large door made of wood and iron. As with most dreams, he had no real sense of his body. He could see the armor, but was not necessarily sure there was anything in it. He did not have time to ponder the physics of the dream world though. Smoothly, his hand drew up towards the door. He had hardly made contact with the door when it swung inwards on silent hinges. Walking inside he found himself in a ballroom. Mentally he chuckled. He had five younger sisters and they had loved making scenes like this. Their father had bought them a holoprojector and they had nearly burned it out with constant use. He marveled at the detail though. All the dreams he could remember were fuzzy, but everything before him was in clear focus. As he looked over the room, he realized that he could not remember anything like it. The projections his sisters had fiddled with always had a lot of gold and mirrors. Their model had been some famous palace in France... Oh the irony, he thought. This place did not have any mirrors at all, the only glass was from three large windows at the other end of the room. They reached from floor to ceiling and diffused the light into a warm glow. The ceiling itself was high enough that a second floor could have been built without needing to raise it. The soldier racked his brain, trying to pin down what possible memory could have generated this place. While he pondered this dilemma, he heard approaching steps. Perhaps a better way of putting it was that he had the impression someone was approaching. He could never make heads nor tails of where one sense ended and another began in his dreams. Looking around for the source of the "noise", he noticed another entrance had appeared. This one seemed to lead into a hallway. As he felt the other person approach, his hand began drifting towards his sidearm. Old habits die hard and he did not notice where it was going until he rubbed up against some strange material. His head snapped down at the sensation and he was surprised to find that his outfit had changed. Where his scout's armor had been before was now some kind of archaic garment. He believed it was called something like texdo... tuckdio... Tuxedo. He nodded to himself, that last name sounded about right. The approaching steps had stopped though and he looked back at the hallway entrance. There she stood... Even in his dreams he could not get away from the young woman that called him Master. Smiling wryly, he walked towards her. His duty came first in the real world, but here he intended to indulge himself. After all, the scenario his subconscious had concocted was pretty tame. There was nothing wrong with simply dancing. Every step that brought him closer to her, though, saw his heart beat a little faster. She was absolutely radiant. The dress she wore was as archaic as his own clothing, but he was mesmerized at the way it fit her. The corset that formed the upper portion accentuated her slim waistline, and it brought up her breasts in an enticing manner. The lower portion was made of voluminous skirts that lightly swept out around her at her every move. Her golden hair had been done up in an elegant style, with two little ringlets loose to frame her beautiful features. Her head was tilted down and her hands fidgeted slightly at her sides. A light pink glow suffused her cheeks as she stood nervously before him. But it was her eyes that filled his heart to overflowing. She looked at him under her eyelashes, those mesmerizing blue orbs full of hope and pleading. Slowly the realization dawned on him... She was waiting for his approval. He could not help but smile. This vision of indescribable perfection... This flawless creature that could make Aphrodite weep in shame... wondered if he approved. Before he could think, he spoke. "Annabel my love, come to me." Her eyes grew wide and tears of joy began welling up in them. Her Master had finally spoken her True Name. She rushed to him and hugged him as tightly as she had at their first meeting, but this time she knew he would not float away. The rational part of Jonathan's mind was dumbstruck. It raged at him to think this through, but it was a lonely voice. Every other shred of his being was far more concerned with how he could keep that radiant smile on his dear Annabel. Every time he thought her name a small shiver raced up his spine. Somehow they had come to stand in the center of the room without moving a muscle, but neither could bring themselves to care. For a few more moments they stood basking in each others warmth. Slowly, they parted just enough to look into each other's eyes. What they found there mesmerized them and they could not look away. As slowly as they had parted, they began to move. Gradually, they began to dance to a rhythm only they could hear. Anyone that could have peered into the ballroom at that moment would have instantly known it for it was... a lover's dance... More intimate and beautiful than anything dreamt of by man. Neither knew how long they danced, time was irrelevant when they were in the midst of so much joy, but something began to intrude into their awareness. White was the first to notice the strange sensation. He tried to place what it was, but when he could not, he simply ignored it, more important matters were at hand. A few more moments passed before Annabel became aware of the more familiar sensation. Her eyes took on a faraway look for a moment before focusing back on her master. "We must awaken," she said, somewhat sadly. "Why?" "Sister comes and they will need our help." Private White immediately remembered the conditions in the waking world. If her sister...Bond-sister, he corrected himself...needed their help, then that meant so did his comrades that were doubtlessly escorting her. He nodded his head to his beautiful partner and the world began to fade. Darkness enveloped him and then gradually began to lessen. The changing brightness came to a stop as he saw a light with a tinge of red on its outer edges. At this point the knew he was looking at the inside of his eyelids and began opening them. "Cameron, We need to get to the Sergeant and Fireteam Bravo," White called out as soon as he was fully awake. Annabel had already begun standing to let him up. As Cameron turned around, the question he was about to voice died on his lips. In the distance they heard the chatter of weapons' fire and a single shouted word. "AMBUSH!!!" -------------------------------------------------- The column of soldiers and civilians wound their out of the former raider base. In all their minds it was now simply a graveyard. Once the captives had been released, Carlos, the squad's language expert, had greeted them in French, but none had been willing to respond. So now they all walked along in silence. Sergeant Scott led the group at the front, Anderson walked alongside the center of the line, and Carlos brought up the rear. The other three scouts were ranging out in the forest, watching for threats. Anderson had been uncomfortable ever since he had first laid eyes on the beautiful redhead. Her demeanor was cold to all of them, but at the moment she was doing something that set his nerves even more on edge. She continually moved to walk directly next to him. He had tried to walk faster, slower, and had even moved to the other side of the line at one point, but she would always end up right next to him. She was not obvious about it, in fact the experienced scout could never even catch her moving towards him. Somehow she would always just appear at his side when he was not looking. He did notice, however, that the other former captives were giving them both a wide berth. He could understand why they avoided her, he was doing it for the exact same reason, but he wondered why they avoided him. He mentally shrugged, attributing it to her constant proximity to him, and once again concentrated on how to put some space between them. Anderson was only partially correct. The freed captives did not know what exactly had happened at the base, but they sensed a shark in the water and did not want to get between her and what was obviously her prey. They continued along their route to Alpha's position for a while longer before they came to a stop. The people that they were escorting were in poor physical condition and had no hope of keeping pace with the soldiers so they would need periodic rests. Up until that point the unofficial game of cat and mouse had continued between Corporal Anderson and the redhead. Now that the column had stopped, Sergeant Scott motioned for him to come over and bring the woman with him. Anderson sighed, realizing he was not going to be able to get away from her for a while. "Since that other young woman told us where you were, I'm assuming you speak English?" The Sergeant asked the redhead as they approached. "Whatever, you say." She had kept her bored demeanor, but the two soldiers were thrown off by her voice. It could not be described as anything less than sultry, but was completely at odds with her attitude. As they studied her for a moment they both had the same impression. She practically exuded sex, but somehow it left them feeling cold. "What's your name then?" the Sergeant spoke in a gruff voice, a bit miffed at her answer. "Whatever you want it to be," she coolly responded. Scott was becoming increasingly annoyed with the ungrateful behavior of the woman and was about to giver a piece of his mind. However, Anderson beat him to the punch. "Listen here, we rescued you. Now, you are going to be a good little girl and answer our questions or I will teach you some manners." If the woman was cold then at that moment Anderson was ice. He was surprised at himself, but went with it, chalking it up to simply snapping after she had been chasing him for the past hour. The ghost of a smile appeared at his outburst, but she responded coolly again, "I haven't been given one." The soldiers nearly groaned out loud. Another one of these crazy woman had landed in their midst and this one was not winning any awards for friendliness. I can think of a few names I'd like to call her, the Sergeant bitterly thought. "Let me guess, your Master hasn't given you one?" She only stared at him at him, not deigning to respond. At this the Sergeant rubbed his temples and looked for somewhere to sit. He did not want to ride that merry-go-around again, much less with this woman. "We'll rest here for a few more minutes. Corporal, see if we can spare any food and water for the civies." The Sergeant tried to refocus his mind on to the matter of the rescued captives. They were a much more immediate concern than whatever was going on with the two women. His squad was meant for recon, not search and rescue. They had few supplies, as they were meant to travel light, and the group that they were now forced to escort would run through them quickly. The thought of leaving them behind did cross his mind, but he could not bring himself to seriously consider it. His entire life had been devoted to protecting others, and it was not in him to leave them to what would almost certainly be their deaths. As the Sergeant weighed his options, Anderson had begun walking over to the emaciated group of men. He was so intent on avoiding the redhead that he completely forgot to offer her anything. He attempted to communicate with the men, but eventually had to get Carlos' help in translating. Even then, they would only nod or shake their heads in response to the soldiers' questions. After providing them with what they could, Anderson noticed one man that hung back from the others. He had layers of tattered rags hanging off his bony frame and fidgeted strangely. He constantly rung his hands and kept a stooped posture, as if ready to curl up into a ball at a moments notice. Anderson ignored the man's demeanor and walked over to ask if he needed anything. "Food?" The Corporal asked, while motioning to his mouth. The man had been staring off in to space and was startled at Anderson's presence. Once he saw who it was, his expression became more intent. He searched the soldier's face for something before seeming to come to a decision. "You must beware of the hell spawn that stalks you," He whispered urgently, in perfect English. His eyes then began darting about, as if he would be attacked simply by speaking. Both the warning and the words themselves surprised Anderson. He did not expect any of the men in the group to speak English, much less start acting even more unstable than the two women. "Hell spawn?" The soldier asked incredulously. "When the sons of Adam turn on one another, the children of Lilith shall walk the Earth," the old man intoned. Anderson resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Everyone on this continent has lost it, he thought. Tired of jumping from one patch of craziness to another, he simply gave the old man a bar of food and some water from his canteen. He was not going to get himself stuck into another pointless discussion about these peoples personal demons. Hehe... demons. As Anderson began turning away, he caught sight of a little patch of white at the man's collar. Doing a double take, he saw it to be a clerical collar. Silently laughing, he felt relief at being able to identify the source of at least one person's delusions. The blonde and redhead had frayed his nerves and that collar practically put a bounce in his step. It reassured him that no matter how strange the events of the last two days, there was always a perfectly reasonable explanation hiding just beyond the apparent insanity the world threw at them. He was so preoccupied with his miniature epiphany that he practically ran into the redhead. She had somehow come to be standing just a few steps behind him. He jumped back and confusedly tried to figure out how she had gotten there. He could have sworn she had still been standing near the Sergeant while he was talking to the old man. "You should be more careful, M.. maybe look where you're walking?" The sarcasm in her voice was momentarily broken as she changed whatever she was about to say. "Perhaps I should tie a bell around your neck instead," Anderson growled back. He almost laughed at the affronted look on her face. He did not know what it was about this woman, but she certainly had a strange effect on him. As he suppressed his laughter, a smile had unconsciously spread across his face. The redhead was now glaring at him. When he noticed it, his composure almost slipped completely. He knew he should be annoyed with her attitude, perhaps even a bit angry, but at that moment the whole situation struck him as ridiculous. Here stood this young woman, nearly a full head shorter than him, after having chased him all around a column of rescued prisoner, glaring up at him as if he should be intimidated. It was all too much for the Corporal and he began to shake with barely contained laughter. His squad mates and the rescued prisoners all turned towards the disturbance in the middle of the clearing and stared. A fully armored soldier shaking in laughter at a woman that set them all on edge was not a common sight. While the Corporal tried, and failed, to hold himself together, the woman glowered at him with both her hands on her hips. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 04 I wore my humiliation like a wet blanket draped across my naked body. After a prolonged week of agonizing soul searching, I had abandoned the last threads of my self-respect at the door with my clothes. Rushing into the room I had thrown myself to my knees at Jim's feet, burying my face in his groin as my first act of complete surrender and submission. It was the act of someone too long torn apart between the stresses and responsibilities of a "real world" life and my own strong drive to escape into the role of the submissive. Finally I had given up any pretends of dignity and succumbed to the power of a strong, controlling man. Seeking to evoke feelings of safety and protection, I was unaware the cost would be my degradation and exploitation as a sexual plaything. It had come as a great shock to discover there had been a witness to my uninhibited surrender. I now stood between the two men with my deepest sexual desires laid out as exposed as my nude body. My mind raced through emotions of fear, anticipation and confusion as I waited for their reaction. I could feel the glare of these two men moving across my strong young naked flesh. Strangely and in contradiction to my other emotions, I was also tremendously sexually aroused. As if being forced to display myself like this, naked and defenseless, emotionally and sexually vulnerable had stirred emotions buried deep in my loins. My lungs complained of a lack of oxygen as I became aware I had stopped breathing. Slowly I forced the trapped air in my lungs to release as I tried to calm myself. Jim moved forward in his chair and gripped his gloved hand onto the inside calf muscle of my leg. Very slowly he advanced his grip up my leg. The strong grip of his hand as powerful as my growing anticipation. When his hand reached my genitals, he cupped both of my balls in the palm of his leather glove, closing his fingers around them. The sensation was not unpleasant, there was pressure but also there was the exquisite touch of Jim's warm soft leather against my flesh. Slowly Jim began to tighten his grip, crushing my balls; my pleasure turned to pain as he compressed tighter and tighter. Any thoughts of the strange voyeur on the couch disappeared as Jim's vise like grip built and my suffering slowly increased. My mouth opened as my breath was sucked out of my lungs. My instinct was to pull away but I dared not move an inch, fearing any movement would increase the pain. Jim stared up into my eyes and asked me, "Who owns these balls?" I struggled to find enough air to answer, "They belong to you Sir." Jim produced from his vest pocket a rectangular piece of leather with three snaps on it. He applied downward pressure on my balls, stretching them far beyond what I thought was possible and beyond what I thought I could endure. I desperately wanted to bend my knees to reduce the increasing downward pressure but I fought against it. I understood Jim was testing my control over my own body while he tested the strength of his control over me. Jim wrapped the piece of leather around my elongated ball sack and closed the three snaps. He suddenly released his grip on my balls, the wave of relief flooded up my body, setting every nerve in my body on fire. I struggled with the impulse to flee but my submissive nature rooted my feet in place. I glanced down, the skin on my nut sack was stretched tight around my tortured balls which were bound tight and stretched inches from my body. Jim delivered one last yank to my ball sack before he forced his gloved hand between my legs to place the tip of one of his fingers to my asshole. Slowly he pressed his gloved finger through my anus and into my asshole. Jim asked, "Who owns this hole?" Never could I have imagined I would be on display like this. Buck naked with my balls bound and tortured, being finger fucked while a strange voyeur watched. I choked down my humiliation and answered Jim's question honestly, "This hole belongs to you, Sir." Jim smiled as if he was enjoying my discomfort and wiggled his finger further into my hole. "That's correct, you are my human property to do with as I like." Jim suddenly withdrew his finger from my ass and stood up from his chair. "Right now I would like you to stand there while Cliff measures you for your collar" Jim said, then glanced at his friend and smiled, "and some other gear." "Collar, Sir?" the words slipped out of my mouth, I regretted them immediately, knowing I should only speak when spoken too. Jim glanced over at me and smiled as if to let me know this infraction of the rules had not gone unnoticed and that he would enjoy making me pay a penalty later. Cliff pulled himself up from the couch, making that loud noise old men make when they stand up. He stood very close behind me when he placed the end of his measuring tape to my neck and stretched the tape down my bare back and between my buttocks. Cliff placed his hand firmly on my back and bent me over before extending his tape between my ass cheeks to the base of my balls. He ran his fingers lightly across my skin as he pulled the tape taut. After several attempts, he completed this measurement. During each attempt as his fingers moved between the tape measure and my skin, he paused for a split second to finger my asshole. I don't know if I felt more alarmed or ashamed but I kept silent and endured his invasion of the most private part of my body as not to displease Jim. As Cliff continued to explore my body with his fingers and his measuring tape, he began pressing his groin against me. I could feel his cock beneath his jeans growing longer and harder as he rubbed it into my naked flesh. I desperately wanted to be reassured by Jim but having broken one of his rules already, I was too afraid to look over to him for comfort. It was then that Cliff attempted to nonchalantly inquire of Jim if he planned to "break the boy at the Black Sheet Party?" It was not just what he said but something in the tone of Cliff's voice when he mentioned this party that worried me. My neck muscles knotted up as Cliff's hands continued to roam around my naked body. A dislike of this strange man's touch rose up in me. My jaw tightened, my hands clinched into fists. I felt an uncontrollable impulse growing inside of me to bolt naked out of the room. Suddenly Jim moved in close beside me, he placed his gloved hand on my shoulder and dug his thumb deep into my tense neck muscles, gently massaging it back and forth. As he did this, he told Cliff there would be no "Party" for his sub. His training plan for "this little one" was to move slowly with a firm hand. Jim continued talking to Cliff but his message was clearly intended for me. Jim said it was going to be frustrating not to be able to ravish the boy but he was not ready. Right now the boy would be ripped apart by the size of Jim's cock but he planned to gradually expand the little one's capabilities. A process of growth that may take months but an undertaking which could be gratifying and one Jim planned to enjoy. His goal was to develop a perfect submissive, without boundaries, unencumbered by any limited sense of who he is or what he is capable of doing. As I listened to Jim speak, I concentrated on the feel of his leather glove against my skin. The movement had changed into long, soft strokes as if he was petting me. I felt my breathing and heart rate slowing, producing a strange light headed sensation. When Cliff finished his measurements, he shoved his tape measure into his pocket and adjusted his obvious erect cock which was now straining for freedom beneath the fabric of his pants. Jim noticed Cliff's hard-on and slowly a wicked little smile creeped across his face, an opportunity had just presented itself to him. Jim moved his hand to cradle my hard dick in the palm of his leather glove, slowly moving his thumb back and forth along the length of my shaft. The touch of his glove on my dick excited me but it was clear this performance was to arouse Cliff passed the point of thinking clearly. Jim inquired of Cliff if his submissive could be of any service to him, in lieu of payment for the collar. Jim released his hold on my cock and pointed his finger to the floor at Cliff's feet. I loathed Cliff, the thought of degrading myself by sucking the cock of the old man who had just molested every inch of my body was too revolting to imagine. It was true that part of me coveted the attention. Maybe I had a need to be wanted, to be desired. Maybe I was even slightly aroused that Cliff had put on such a display of his desire. Besides, I reminded myself, I had to resign myself to performing this sexual act as atonement to Jim for speaking without permission. Paying for my own collar by sucking off Cliff did not make me a whore if I was only following Jim's directions. As the realization of my situation became eerily clear to me, I experienced a shift of perspective, almost like moving into a kind of trancelike state. Although I had control of my movements, I felt I had become weightless, gravity pulled me into an endless fall to my knees. Jim stepped behind me and while smiling his wicked little smile, he ran a single gloved finger across my lips and asked Cliff, "Who could resist having these lips wrapped around their cock?" As if I was watching from outside of my body, I saw Cliff open his pants and pull out his meaty thick cock. He smeared the sticky pre-cum covered cock-head across my lips as if to defile his victim before burying his cock deep into my mouth. I watched as my body went limp, releasing any resistance to Jim's control. Somewhere deep inside of me I felt horrified at what I was watching, horrified and excited. The first thrust of Cliff's hips sent his large cock over my lips, along my tongue and down the back of my throat, the swollen head of his cock choking me as he reached the end of his stroke. This thrust of his cock was followed quickly by another then another, each stoke faster then the last. Soon they melted into one long blur of frenzied throbbing flesh relentlessly smashing into my face. His propulsion grew and grew until finally it crashed in an explosion of taste, smell and liquid but still Cliff's thrusts kept coming. Each thrust accompanied by wad of cum and loud moan. He continued until my mouth was filled to the brim with clumps of his thick, sticky cum. Then at long last after feeding me the last drop of his seed, his cock softened and slipped from my mouth. As if from a hundred miles away I heard Jim's voice tell me, "Do not swallow, yet." *** Suddenly I was having the strangest thought, "Who would have thought the old man had so much cum in him?" I could hear the two men talking in whispers at the door, then Jim's heavy footsteps as he returned to the room. He walked in slow circles around me several times as I knelt on the floor with my hands behind my back. He did not speak a word, silence may speak volumes, but I had no idea if I had pleased or displeased him. He stepped directly in front of me and asked "Nod your head if you are still holding Cliff's load in your mouth." On my knees with my head down all I saw of him was his black leather chaps and boots but I could sense the excitement in his voice. Very slowly as not to dislodge the mass of cum sitting on my tongue, I nodded "Yes." He replied, "At last I have you all to myself." He then pressed his jock strap into my face. He ran his glove through my hair slowly until he got to the back of my head then he held me tight by the hair as he began grinding the pouch of his jock strap into my face. I felt his long thick cock trapped beneath the fabric as he rubbed it across my face. It was torture to me, not to be able to open my mouth and touch his cock. I longed to rid myself of Cliff's load so that I could worship Jim's cock; experience the bliss of having his powerful cock push past my lips, across my tongue and deep down my throat as Cliff's cock had done only of few minutes before. Jim suddenly stepped back and pulled his hard cock from his jock. It sprang up into the air, hard, long and magnificent. Jim used it to smack me across the face, almost knocking me over. The first smack was quickly followed by another and another. Jim dropped down to one knee beside me and unexpectedly yanked on the balls stretcher he had used to bind up my balls. The resulting stab of pain cut through me like a sword. The reflex to swallow my mouthful of cum was overwhelming but I fought against it, determined not to disobey Jim's directions again. Jim moved his mouth very close to my ear and whispered, "I warned you about the penalties for breaking my rules. Now that pretty little mouth of yours will stay shut until I open it by shoving my cock down your throat." Jim again grabbed at my abused balls, alternating between caressing them gently in the palms of his soft leather glove then suddenly inflicting sharp slaps using the back of his hand. The first slaps were so unexpected and stung like he had used a whip. After the second slap my balls began to burn. Every muscle in my body stretched tight in anticipation of the next slap and the next. With each slap my dick throbbing harder as he whipped me deeper into a sexual frenzy. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep from swallowing the cum-ball in my mouth. Jim hissed into my ear, "Pain is temporary, control lasts forever." Suddenly Jim's hands were fumbling with one of the snaps on the ball stretcher. Without warning, in one quick movement Jim ripped the leather ball stretcher open, liberating my tortured balls from their imprisonment. For one hundreds' of a second, there was an amazing feeling of relief but then there was also amazing pain as the pent-up blood gushed back into my ball sack. The resulting spike of pain flashed through my body like a thunder bolt, setting alight every nerve fibre in my body. The muscles of my stomach suddenly clenched into knots, forcing me to open my mouth. Grasping for air the snowball of cum was sucked to the back of my throat. It hung there stuck, blocking my air passage and making it impossible for me to breathe. Oddly I did not panic. I was very conscious there had been a shift in my reality, all of my sensations decelerated into slow motion. My breathless lungs grasped soundlessly for air. My body released a long silent scream as overloaded nerves fibers fired out alternating messages of pain and pleasure at the speed of machine gun fire to my overtaxed brain. All of my sensations were suspended in time, keeping me trapped in my own airless world. From somewhere far away, I heard the beating of my heart. Then, the snowball struck in my airway made the slightest movement, I felt it topple and drop down my throat, leaving my airway open but my throat coated in Cliff's rich gluey cream. I could feel the cum-ball tumbling down my throat much like a child's ball falling down a deep dark well. Slowly the ball dropped, falling into the darkness as the circle of daylight at the top of the well got smaller and dimmer. Until there was just a pin point of light at the top of the well. The daylight blacked out, precisely as I blacked out. The last thing I remember was my body collapsing forward and Jim rushing forward to catch me, in that last moment I felt safe embraced in his strong arms. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 04 "You dare laugh at me," she hissed through gritted teeth. His demeanor changed in a flash. "Not only do I dare to laugh at you, I will dare to bend you over my knee if you continue with your attitude." Her cheeks grew hot at his retort. Anderson believed that it was due to her indignation, but his words had a far different effect on her than he intended. Eventually she broke eye contact and spun about on her heel. Again, Anderson had mistakenly believed her actions to be caused by her anger. The truth being that she was afraid he would realize the affect he was having on her. Bathing the afterglow of his small triumph, he watched her walk away. Whilst enjoying the view, he noticed her hand slip into her pocket. Alerts went off inside him and the world slowed to a crawl. He did not believe she was dangerous, but instincts had kicked in and he moved to grip his weapon. Still staring at the redhead, his eyes widened at the fluidity of her movements. As her hand withdrew the object in her pocket, her knees began bending. One leg slid forward and the other back, keeping her balance perfectly centered. Once her hand had cleared her pocket, she smoothly twisted back to face him. Her hand snapped forward and he saw a glint of steel. Just as he realized that a knife was flying towards him, a shout went up from one of his squad mates. "AMBUSH!!!" Shattered Boundaries Ch. 05 A big thank you to all my story's readers, I had no idea it would be so well received. There might be a disruption in the submittal of new chapters due to the holidays, but I will be trying to keep a consistent schedule. Please remember to vote and comment so I can make the new chapters even better. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 5: "...We have broken the bonds that tied us to the natural world. We control our evolution through implants. We can end all life or create it anew at will... Ladies and gentlemen, a new race of gods has risen." A speaker at the International Symposium of Human Progress. "AMBUSH!!!" Anderson knew he would never be able to react fast enough. He could only watch as the blade thrown by the young woman drifted toward him. His entire being focused on the tip of that knife. In the back of his mind, he felt it was a great cosmic joke that life passed by so quickly, but he was forced to watch his death approach an inch at a time. Closer and closer... He had a momentary impulse to close his eyes, but smothered it. He would look the reaper in the eye when it came. Finally, it looked like it was about to reach him. He could practically feel the cool steel cutting into him... he waited... but the sensation just slid across his skin. What the Hell?! He looked back at the one that had thrown the knife. She was not looking at him. Her eyes were focused somewhere behind him... Wind... The cold sensation he felt must have been the knife flying... past him? Did she miss? No, she threw it perfectly. He realized though that someone had yelled something about an ambush. The girl was out in the open, there was no way they were talking about her. Time began to contract and speed up again. The sounds of weapons fire made it through to him. During his near death experience his hands had continued their motion to bring up his rifle. Now he found the sights at eye level and whipped them around to find the true threat. The knife. Where had it been aimed? He still felt a small instinctual tug to point his weapon at the woman, but something inside him was almost outraged at the idea. If she threw her only weapon then she is no longer a threat, he rationalized the feeling. His knees bent as he turned, so that when he saw the blade's true target, he was already crouched. It was a soldier. His limp body slumped against a tree. Anderson had to admire the redhead's accuracy. The dead man was nearly fully covered in light body armor. The knife had gone straight for the gap at his throat. Blood flowed out, but there was no movement. She must have penetrated all the way to his spine. He was no longer a threat. Anderson kept his sights moving. His implant was trying to track the weapons fire around him, but with the network down it was having trouble identifying friend from foe. He caught sight of another unfamiliar soldier. The man's face was emotionless as he fired at Anderson's comrades. He took note of the enemy's demeanor and the way he handled the weapon. These were professionals. The rifle sights finally settled and his implant's target acquisition software confirmed a clean shot. Anderson squeezed the trigger and put three plasma coated rounds into the man's chest. As the enemy dropped, he remembered the girl. Both of them were out in the open. He knew he had seconds before another enemy soldier would notice them. Anderson spun about and awkwardly threw her over his shoulder. The redhead was too surprised by the sudden action to protest and they were soon crashing through the undergrowth. He stopped at a dip in the ground that would make do as an impromptu foxhole and gently slid the woman down so he could look her over.. "Are you alright?" She only nodded and rubbed her stomach where Anderson's shoulder had dug into her. "...men," she muttered under her breath. Anderson turned back towards the sounds of battle and scanned the area. Short range transmissions were being sent by the fire team members as they were able to get some breathing room. Sergeant Scott and Carlos had managed to get out of the clearing and the other scouts that had been ranging out in the forest were trying to reach them. Anderson signaled them, marking his position so that they could regroup. He lay up against the side of the depression. The cold of the forest floor seeping threw his armor and clothing as he waited. Another burst of transmissions came through. The fire team had redirected and was closing on his position. He breathed out and calmed himself. What a mess this mission was turning out to be. He saw movement through some of the bushes to his left. Relieved, he lowered his rifle and moved to stand, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked back at the young woman behind him. She shook her head and pointed at the source of the movement. Two camouflaged forms cautiously emerged, their weapons sweeping over the area from side to side. They were fully dressed in French medium density armor. Alarmed, Anderson looked over their equipment. Short and mid-range transmitters, extra ammo packs, and standard issue, French S-5 assault rifles. Everything he had seen so far was beginning to paint a picture that he did not like one bit. Anderson began sending a new signal, marking the two enemy soldiers for his approaching team. For the moment though, they were getting far too close to his position. Weighing his options, he decided to wait a little longer. If they could capture these two alive, then they might be able to get some better information as to what was going on. Seconds ticked by and each step brought the enemy soldiers closer. Finally the signal Anderson had been waiting for came in. He slid further down into the makeshift foxhole and pulled the young woman to him. Above them, two loud explosions sounded and even through his closed eyelids he saw a brilliant white flash. Despite the fact that he had been ready for the PDC devices, their proximity left a loud ringing in his ears. As a consequence it took him a few seconds to recognize the sounds of his team securing the two new captives. He leaned back and sighed. It had been a gamble that they would be able to capture them without anyone getting killed. His eyes snapped open as he remembered what the source of the warmth against him was. He had forgotten that he was still holding the girl. Looking down, he locked eyes with her. "I really don't like being touched," she stated in her naturally sultry voice. But despite her words she made no move to break their contact Anderson forgot to respond. When she was not busy being a bitch, she really was quite beautiful. The two remained in the depression, staring at each other until the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat distracted them. They looked up to find most of the fire team grinning down at them. "You two need a moment?" Carlos asked jovially. The quickness with which the two separated only added to the soldiers' merriment. They stood awkwardly, the deep blush on the young woman's face much more visible due to her pale skin. "Quit screwing around," came the Sergeant's gruff voice from somewhere near the captured enemy soldiers. "Carlos, get in contact with Alpha... And does anyone know if any of the civies managed to get out?" The group of men standing closely together had been an easy target for the attackers. Scott had seen them being mowed down in the initial burst of enemy fire, but he had hoped at least some of them had been missed. The silence from his men only confirmed it had been a false hope. A string of curses flowed from his lips. "Sir, Alpha team reports that they were attempting to link up with us, but are encountering sporadic resistance all throughout the forest," Carlos relayed to his commander. Scott thought quickly before responding. "Order them to break off from any engagements and retreat. We'll regroup at the edge of the forest where we entered." Carlos get back on the transmitter and passed on the new orders. Meanwhile, Anderson had moved to help strip the captives of their weapons. Each item that the scouts removed from them only added to their worries. These were fully equipped soldiers ready for extended firefights. The items missing were even more worrying though. A typical armed group on any one of the devastated continents understood that food and ammunition were hard to come by. To lessen this problem, they would stuff every pocket and fold of clothing with rounds and provisions. The two men laying on the forest floor had plenty of ammunition, but only enough food and water for a day or two. They looked less like roving raiders and more like soldiers out on patrol. The entire time the team searched them, the two captives spoke in rapid French. Only Carlos understood more than a few words, but the emphasis was quite clear. They did not enjoy their new role as prisoners and were likely cursing everyone related to the fire team members for a few generations backwards and forwards. After a they were thoroughly searched, the Sergeant began directing the team for their trek back. "Same spread as before boys, tighten it up though so we can cover one another. Everyone on the outer perimeter is to have full camo active." The men that would range out around the central group saluted and brought down their faceplates. They immediately melted into the forest and only a light footfall here or there gave away their presence. Carlos and Scott forced the two enemy soldiers up and Carlos ordered them to get moving in their native language. As before, Anderson was stuck looking after the young redhead whether or not he liked it. She still followed him closely as they marched along, but after the embarrassment just a short while ago, she kept a bit more distance between them. Anderson was perfectly fine with such an arrangement. The strange, cold feeling he had been getting from her had significantly lessened but he was still wary. As for the young woman, she was annoyed with herself. Sure, he had proven to be an able enough warrior, but that was no excuse for her weakness around him. Being thrown over his shoulder... was just insulting. The contradictory warmth she felt at the memory only angered her more. This was something she would expect of her Bond-Sister, not herself. She was supposed to be made of sterner stuff... But who was the one that made that "stern" stuff to begin with? Her own voice wryly echoed in her mind. Anderson walked ahead, completely unaware of his companion's inner turmoil. His senses were on full alert for more attacks. That the enemy had managed to get right on top of them during the ambush was a blow to his pride. That the woman he was supposed to be escorting had saved him was even worse. He had no intention of allowing another such scenario to play out. The group marched along at a steady pace and made it out of the forest without further incident. This was not for lack of trying on the part of the captives. They had tried every tactic they could think of to either get a hold of the squad's weapons or escape. The sergeant had used thick branches and various odds and ends to further restrict their movements after each attempt and now the two looked like misshapen scarecrows. Their pace had obviously slowed due to the awkward shuffle that the captives now had to perform but they had still made decent time. "Carlos, where the hell is Alpha?" The Sergeant asked, noting the other team's absence. "Just a sec Sarge, I'll.." Carlos was cut off as position markers lit up their retinal displays. The absent team was just behind them and when they finally emerged from amidst the trees, they definitely looked the worse for wear. A good number had damaged plates on their body armor, while one or two had tightly bound field dressings on their wounds. "Reporting in Sir, we managed to get out alive," Cameron saluted the Sergeant. Scott scanned the team, assessing their wounds and inwardly sighed in relief. He had not expected that they would all make it through. The wounded would add to their troubles though. It would be a slow enough march having to watch over the captives, but if any of their conditions deteriorated it would slow things to a crawl. "Glad you and your team made it out Corporal, how did you fair?" The Sergeant responded. "The resistance we encountered was sporadic, but much heavier than we would have expected Sir. We only made it out alive thanks to Anne." "Anne?" Scott questioned. "Yes Sir, turns out that's her name," The soldier gestured towards the young blonde at Private White's side. As the two men spoke White shifted somewhat guiltily. He felt a little bad that he had only given them a shortened version of her name, but he had been feeling strangely possessive of her, For her part, Annabel was very pleased with the arrangement, she liked that only her Master would speak her True Name. "She was instrumental in picking out the enemy positions. Saved us from an ambush or two," Cameron continued. "Right, well we had better get moving before they figure out where went," The Sergeant responded, a bit peeved that the girl had so staunchly avoided giving up her name when he had asked her, only to do so after he left. The fact that she apparently was skilled in woodcraft did not slip past him though. He was highly suspicious of the two women that they had rescued. He had not noticed the efficient way that they redhead had killed one of the ambushers back in the woods, or the Sergeant would have likely considered tying them up as well. Cameron saluted and the soldiers moved into their positions. The wounded squad members were ordered to stay near the center and the rest took up a loose formation around them. Next to White, Annabel had been holding in her excitement while her Master's friends finished talking. Now that they were moving about, she rushed to her Bond-Sister and enveloped her in a crushing hug. "Sister, Sister, you won't believe what happened. I found my Master," The blonde gleefully whispered. "Oh, that's wonderful..." The redheaded responded somewhat half heartedly. Annabel immediately looked up at her. "What's wrong Sister?" "Nothing, it really is wonderful that you finally found him." She would not look the younger woman in the eye. The blonde released her hug and took up a stern demeanor. She placed her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. It would have been comical if her Bond-Sister did not know how tenacious she could be in worming out her secrets. Still she could not bring herself to admit it. "It's nothing dear, perhaps I'm just a bit tired from everything that's happened." "And what exactly has happened?" The patience in her voice was evident. Her sister inwardly groaned, it was going to be difficult to divert her. "You know, fighting, killing, the usual..." As she spoke, the redheads eyes had turned towards Anderson. She caught herself, but it was too late. "You too?!" The glee was back in the younger girl's voice. Some of the soldiers turned to look for what had caused her sudden excitement. "Quiet down Sister," The redhead shushed, glancing around in embarrassment. "You haven't told him have you..?" Her Bond-Sister only looked sheepishly at the blonde, a light blush beginning to form. "This will not do, you know you are denying him his rights.... And your happiness." Annabel's stern demeanor had reappeared. The young woman was flighty in her emotions, but very expressive. "I'll tell him... eventually. It's complicated." "Sister..." Annabel warned, "If you don't tell him, I will." "You don't understand..." "Then tell me so I can understand." "..." "Sister..." "Oh very well, I'm not certain that he is strong enough.... To handle me." The redhead's face was practically on fire with embarrassment at having to admit her fear. Her sister was dumbstruck for a moment. "That is absurd and you know it. He created you, of course he can handle you." The redhead knew she was not going to win. She could tread a battlefield more ably than any of their kind, but these verbal sparring matches with her sister always ended the same way. "I'll tell him when I'm good and ready." She tried to stand straight and give a commanding presence, but even to her own ears she sounded petulant. The stared at one another until one finally looked away. A short distance away. Anderson and White were deep in their own conversation and had not heard a word of the two girl's argument. White had also seen the gear that the enemy in the forest had worn and they were discussing possibilities. "It's likely a rogue unit left over from the French army," Anderson hypothesized. "I don't know, it seems like a bit much for a rogue unit. You said that it looked like they had been training those militiamen right?" Anderson remembered the half hidden patrol trails that had led him to the raider encampment. "Yeah, they were actually doing a half decent job from what I saw." "And obviously these guys in the woods had standard issue gear," White gestured towards the two captives. "So what I think is that..." "Master," Annabel interrupted, "Sister and I must speak to your War-Brother." White turned to look at the young women. The blonde had a determined look on her face and the redhead seemed to be trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye. He was a bit confused by the strange phrase, but assumed she meant Anderson. "Hmm? Oh sure. I have to check our gear anyways." He was not sure why he did it, but then he turned towards Anderson and whispered, "Good luck." A bit confused, the Corporal watched his friend walk away before turning towards the two girls. "What can I do for you ladies?" "Sister has something she would like to tell you," Annabel answered while gently pushing the redhead forward. She glared back at the blonde, but eventually turned towards Anderson. She mumbled something that he couldn't quite catch. "Sister! That is not something you should speak in his presence!" "Oh very well...." the redhead looked up at Anderson with a sigh. "You are my Master." Anderson's eyebrows climbed in surprise. Now he was in the middle of this fantasy of theirs. "Ok..." He tried to remember what had happened last time between White and Anne. "What exactly does that entail? Besides picking out a name for you apparently..." The redhead glared daggers at him. She felt he was being an ass. "It means you're stuck with me, lover boy. But how about tossing me around a little less this time?" Annabel saw where the conversation was heading and quickly intervened with a distraction. "Sister, Why don't you tell him what you found out about the bad men?" The redhead turned her irritated gaze on her sister. She debated whether or not to say anything to the annoying man before her but knew she had too. "They were waiting for you and your War-Brothers." "What do you mean?" Anderson questioned. "Exactly what I just said," she bit off. "Those weaklings needed to be led by the hand. Someone was spoon feeding them information on where you were, and where you were going to be.... You and your War-Brothers have been betrayed." Shattered Boundaries Ch. 05 As a child, I loved to gently swing back and forth flying through the air in a converted tire swing. Some of my favorite childhood memories were summer afternoons spent gazing up into the sky at the passing parade of puffy cloud animals. I remember the warmth of the sunshine against my skin and the pungent smell of that old faded rubber tire swing. As I lay there half conscious I could smell that old tire swing again. I slowly opened my eyes, half expecting to discover I would be looking up at an old familiar patch of blue sky. Instead of puffy clouds I saw the water stained ceiling of a small dimly lit room. The walls of the room were plastered from floor to ceiling with posters and photos of half naked young athletic men wearing speedo bathing suits. From every direction speedo clad young men's faces smiled down at me. Judging by the age and the variations in style, this was a serious collection that would have taken many years to assemble. I knew Jim had a speedo fetish but this struck me as an almost nostalgic collection. As I fully regained consciousness, I discovered the source of the smell of rubber. I was laying in a heavy rubber sling, constructed from an old truck tire and hung from the ceiling by four industrial strength steel chains. I glanced down at my body, I was no longer naked. Much like everyone else in the room I wore a very small speedo. Wanting to reassure myself this was not a dream, I reached to touch the suit only to find my wrists restrained by leather manacles to the sling. My legs were unrestrained but were hung by the ankles in leather straps, keeping my legs separated wide apart and my ass totally vulnerable except for the flimsy material of the speedo. After I had passed out, Jim had seized complete control of me. Picking me up, placing me in the sling, positioning me as if I were a sex toy ready to be used. I wondered if Jim had become aroused, if his long thick cock had stiffened as he dressed me in his favorite fetish wear, the speedo. I laid in the sling thinking about Jim's cock, wondering what it would feel like to have him inside me. Anyone else discovering themselves tied up to a sling would have been frightened, even terrified. Finding myself bound up and completely without control left me electrified with excitement and anticipation. I was overcome with a strange sense of familiarity, that this was were I belonged. I felt as if the burden of having to keep my secret sexual desires buried deep inside me had suddenly been released. I could feel my dick stiffen, straining the tight fabric of the speedo. As I continued to look around the room, the vulnerability of my ass became a real concern to me. On a narrow bookcase, lined up as neatly as toys in a child's playroom where row upon row of dildos and butt-plugs, in every size, shape and color. They stood erect like an army of toy soldiers waiting eagerly to be plucked off the shelve, coated with lube and firmly pressed into action. I strained my neck to view the lower shelves of the book case, there laying on their sides were the really long dildos. Some only a few inches in diameter but other resembled battering rams. "Don't concern yourself with those, just yet." I heard Jim say. I looked over to discover Jim standing at the end of the sling with a water glass in one of his hands. His other hand was slowly stroking up and down the length of his erect cock. Each time I saw his manhood it came as a shock to see how massive it was. Jim stepped between my legs and leaned down to feed me a few sips of water. He allowed his rock hard cock to slid across the flesh of my thigh, it physically pained me not to be able to reach out and caress it with my hand. Jim caught me staring at his cock and said, "You want my cock, but you're doubting whether your ass can handle this much cock. Trust me after I'm finished with your ass, you'll be ready. You'll be begging me to ride your ass." The thought of having this massive piece of meat inside me, sent a chill running up my spine. Jim then it something that surprised me, he reached over and cupped my face in the palms of his hands, much like you might do to a small child. He held them there of a moment, studying my face, looking into my eyes but saying nothing. His hands left my face and slowly moved over my body, eventually stopping at my hip bones which stuck out just above the waist band of the speedo. It was almost as if he was reliving a distant memory, an event long ago but repeatedly reenacted until it had taken on a kind of sexual ritual. Taking the waistband by his forefingers, he inched the suit lower and lower down over my hips. He stopped just before the suit was low enough reveal my cock and balls, a moment filled with anticipation and excitement. Jim ran his forefingers around the waistband to the back of the suit, pulling the suit bit by bit over my bum until finally my rectum was in view. He gazed at it and smiled, not his normal depraved little smile but a wistful smile. Was he was recalling some passed encounter or envisioning the future, I do not know? Just as suddenly as it began the moment between us passed. I like to think it was a tender bonding moment between us. Jim released my legs so he could pull the speedo off my body. Using a slip knot tied to one end of a leather cord he scooping my balls into the loop and pulled the knot tight. On the other end of the cord he attached a small lead weight which he dropped through a steel ring hanging from the ceiling. As the weight dropped my balls were suddenly yanked in the air. The pressure on my balls was firm but I quickly discovered that if I rotated my hips upwards and stuck my ass further out, it helped to ease some of the strain on my poor tortured ball-sack. However this did require me spread my legs a little wider apart, further exposing my asshole. Jim smiled, he had me exactly how he wanted me, ass cheeks spread, my balls bound up out of his way and my hairless orifice presented up like a sacrificial offering ready to be ravaged. Jim bent down and enjoyed a long slow lick of my ass-crack then looking up into my eyes and with a smile on his face he said, "So soft and smooth, just the way I like my fuck holes." Jim then buried his face in my ass, attacking my anus with the sharp tip of his powerful tongue. Wiggling his tongue like a snake back and forth, back and forth. Slipping further and further into my butt-hole. The attack and the sensation knocked the breath out of me. I wanted to scream but bit my lip instead. Just when I thought he could go no further up my butt, he used both of his hands to stretch apart my hole, digging and exploring deeper and deeper into my butt-hole. Repeatedly thrusting his tongue into my hole, as he used twisting and squirming movements designed to drive me crazy. Suddenly Jim pulled his tongue from my hole and began sandpapering my anus with the two day old stubble on his chin. The sensation was torture, I wanted to scream for him to stop but I remembered the penalty I paid the last time I spoke without permission. Jim worked my hole as though he was a wild man, relentlessly alternating between corkscrewing his tongue down into my asshole or sandpapering my butt-hole with his bristly chin stubble. It was not long before I was so stimulated, so frantic, I would have begged him to fuck me right there and then with his huge cock. Jim reached over and dipped a single finger into a tub of lube. The black leather gloved finger came out wet and shiny, covered with the clear liquid. Placing the tip of his glove to my anus, he smiled one of his wicked little smiles and said, "You think coming here and surrendering yourself to my control is enough, it means nothing if you don't also expand your limits." He applied a little pressure, pushing open my sphincter enough for the tip of his gloved finger to enter my hole. My body suddenly jerked, surprising even myself. Jim looked at me sternly and said, "If you truly want to belong to me, you must want this too! Should I see how many fingers I can fuck into you?" The words jumped out of me without a thought, "Yes Sir, Open me up!" I knew from our first time together, Jim was obsessed about stretching open my hole so he could fuck me with his porn-star sized cock. I laid back down in the sling, telling myself I knew what I was doing but in reality I was so naive, knowing nothing of the erotic odyssey that lay ahead of me. After that night I spend every weekend tied to Jim's sling. I would feel the fingers of his leather glove applying a cool wet lube to my hole. I tried to relax as I felt the tip of his forefinger impale me, knowing that one finger would become two, then three. His fingers would play in my asshole, massaging it, moving in and out. He used his thick thumb and forefinger to pull apart my hole. Pulling his fingers out before applying more lube so my hole could take yet another finger. I would feel Jim pull my ass cheeks apart as four fingers entered my hole, his thumb sneaking in neatly tucked between the other four. Jim slowly turned his wrist, twisting back and forth as further into my hole he entered. Alway lubricating and expanding my hole, priming it to be introduced to the next in a long series of weirdly shaped butt-plugs and dildos of ever increasing length and girth. It came as a shock to me that dildos were so dense unlike a cock or fingers, their solid mass made them relentless at their task. Jim applied a little light pressure to their mass but increased the pressure as inch by inch my sphincter slowly yielded open. Time again my ass surrendered allowing the widest part of the dildo or the butt-plug to finally ease it's way into me. My moans and cries accompanied each finger, each dildo and each step along Jim's plan to reconstruct my fuck hole. Jim was never in a hurry, he enjoyed the process of expanding the limits of my hole, as he reshaped my own definition of how big a sex toy my hole could handle. Often encouraging my progress by showing great delight when a butt-plug slipped that final inch and my sphincter closed around it's narrow neck, sealing it tight inside my hole. It excited Jim to leave me tied to the sling for hours with a large butt-plug securely stuffed up on ass. He would stand over me watching me squirm as the butt-plug strained open my anus. He was always determined, never doubting that one day soon his over sized cock would fuck my ass. Every session with Jim came with a new sexual humiliation for me to endure. One evening I was introduced to the custom made body harness Jim had Cliff make for me. The black leather harness came with an attachment to secure a butt-plug into my ass. I remember clearly the first time Jim had me wear the harness. He inserted a thick black butt-plug weighing several pounds into my asshole, securing it in place with a leather straps anchored to the leather harness. Jim walked me across the floor. Each step causing the head of the plug to pivot back and forth deep up my butt-hole, pummeling my insides. I felt like a puppet with someone's hand up my butt. The more I moved the further the butt-plug rocked back and forth fucking my ass. Jim reveled at the obvious discomfort painted across my face, becoming so aroused he immediately instructed me to drop to my knees so he could fuck my face. As his cock traveled down the back of my throat stretching it open with it's girth, Jim began to repeatedly tugged at the leather straps of my harness causing the butt-plug to move back and forth, fucking my ass. I was completely unprepared for what followed, I had never experienced anything like it before. Being fucked from both ends by such massive hard objects knocked every other thought out of my head. Overwhelmed by the double assault, everything else in my life faded away. I became completely present with each thrust of the throbbing relentless fuck tools pounding away into my body. The level of stimulation coming from my throat and ass was so overpowering, my mind was unable process anything else. Overcome I was forced by a lack of control to just let my body go limp, first submerging myself in the experience then being subjugated by it. I was forced to release any self doubt, any self restraint or any inhibition. Therefore inducing a complete sense of liberation. In this new reality, I was only a receptacle, an object with openings at both ends, my throat and my ass. Only conscious of the fuck tools hammering into my holes, each hard thrust experienced fully, each back stroke clung to until the end. Then a split second of anticipation before I welcomed the next and the next thrust. I now existed only as a fuck hole, the next step on my path to complete submission. Normal reality faded farther and farther away for me, I entered my new reality as Jim's dedicated orifice but as always that was not enough for Jim. He wanted more of me, much, much more. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 06 Author's Note: Sorry for the delay folks, so much for consistent schedules. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the newest chapter in the Shattered Boundaries series ------------------ Chapter 6: "...Many would argue that the world has ended... Yet here we are. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not the end, but a new beginning. The folly of man has reached its apex and we have survived.... It is time for North America to lead Humanity into a new age." Excerpt from a presidential speech blessing the NAU. ------------------- "... You and your War-Brothers have been betrayed." Anderson did not respond. He could not. What this young woman was telling him was impossible. He looked into her eyes searching for any sign that this might be some kind of sick joke. He found nothing but sincerity though. "Exactly what proof do you have?" his voice came out gruff. "The night that you approached, your enemies began milling about in preparation. They laid a trap by the moonlight, but you did not come until the dawn...." The redhead's tone had softened as she spoke. Despite her fears and how easily he could annoy her, the man before her was still her Master and she did not want him hurt. Betrayal was never an easy thing to swallow, much less for a warrior. "Then they didn't know a whole lot. Anyone that saw us could have told them we were nearby. Hell, we passed though the middle of a village before nightfall." Anderson needed more proof than what she was giving him. At least, that is what he told himself. "Open your eyes! They waited for you and set trap after trap. If it were not for me, you would have perished... Master," She spoke his title with biting sarcasm. She was not a liar and would not stand for him treating her as such. Anderson drew himself up, but before he could say anything, Annabel intervened again. "Sister! The war band is leaving, you and your master must hurry." This was not going at all as the young blonde had planned. It made no sense that her Bond-Sister would fight with her master so much. She could not doubt their relationship. She saw it in their eyes every time they looked at each other. Yet, more than a few civil words could not pass between them before they were arguing.... Perhaps her own Master could shed some light on the situation. As the Squad began to move out, everyone got into their positions. Anderson and the redhead stared angrily at one another for a moment but they had to break off their contest before they were left behind. Although the young woman still followed behind him, they studiously ignored one another. On the other side of the central formation, Annabel sought out her own master. Private White had been busily securing and organizing his gear and had not noticed the argument his friend had gotten into. As the group began moving, he looked about for his companions and noticed Annabel approaching. The serious expression on her face served to worry him. "What's wrong dear?" Private White still had his misgivings about the two women. He was especially troubled by his dream. But it felt so natural to have the beautiful woman at his side, that terms of endearment would just slip out. "Sister and your War-Brother are not behaving as they should." The concern in her voice rang clearly. "Well they sure are acting like an old married couple, but not everyone in the world can get along," White shrugged, "that's why we're here in the first place." "But he is her Master." She said it as if they were committing some great taboo. White scratched his head and thought it through. The young blonde was gazing up at him as if he held all the answers and he felt obligated to come up with something. At that moment, a long forgotten memory began to surface. Another night sitting around the fire, crude jokes and imitation beer flowing easily. His fellow soldiers had been joking about the perfect woman. A lot of the descriptions were typical, concentrating on physical characteristics, but then they had gone off on a tangent about personalities. The nymphomaniac was, of course, the most popular archetype, but Anderson had said something... White knew it was somehow relevant to the problem his Annabel wanted him to solve, but he was having trouble remembering. Suddenly it hit him and he turned towards the young woman at his side. "A long time ago we were joking around, and Anderson said something about what he thought would be the perfect woman." Private White grinned at the irony. "He said that he wanted a girl that could hold her own and give is as good as she got." White continued to grin, waiting for the young woman to understand. His smile faded though, as she looked up at him blankly. "It means, that he got his wish. What those two are doing is fighting for control." He began to chuckle. "But he is her Master...," Annabel repeated, emphasizing Anderson's position. White shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know about all that, but it seems pretty natural to me. Just give 'em some time and see if it doesn't work out." The young blonde nodded. She still had some doubts, but she would trust her Master. Across the countryside the group continued to march along. They stuck closely to potential cover and avoided open areas. A thoughtful quietness pervaded the air around them, and even the two enemy captives were subdued by the mood. Each figure gazed out with unseeing eyes as their focus turned inward. The Sergeant struggled with the military significance of all that had transpired. The equipment of their enemies and their organization was proof of a much more powerful force. Images of maps and potential hideouts were called up, one by one, from his memories. He needed to figure out where they were staging their operations from. In the back of his mind though, his questions about the women and the events of the past night still weighed heavy. A short ways behind him walked Anderson and the fiery redhead, the anger they still exuded putting a little extra distance between them and their companions. Anderson was running through every encounter with the raiders. The facts would not help him decide one way or the other if they had truly known of the squad's presence. The placement of the ambush did argue for betrayal. But when his fire team had come across Anne, the raiders chasing her were certainly not aware of their presence until they were laid out on the ground. Anderson's female companion was concentrated on a much closer subject. Specifically, the man walking before her. The weaklings that her Master and his War-Brothers were so concerned with did not merit much consideration from her. This infuriating man did. He was so thick-headed that he could not see what was going on around him. He almost got himself killed, for Creation's sake! A second later, a light blush appeared on her face as she remembered exactly what had been distracting him. It is not my fault that men allow their eyes to wander so much... Opposite from them and a little farther back, walked Private White and Annabel. This couple was far more calm in their demeanor, but their minds worked just as furiously through their own troubles. White was caught up on the dream he had about Annabel. Or perhaps it was with Annabel. He hated to admit something that sounded so ludicrous, but it did seem that she had experienced at least something similar. She had already begun to move when they had woken, and she showed no surprise when he had called her by her name. In fact, she had responded to it immediately, as if she had been called by it all her life. Beside him Annabel was just as thoughtful as any of the others. She still worried about her Bond-Sister, but her Master had told her it would all work out. Instead she put all her concentration towards a great dilemma. The Creators had made it very clear that they knew very little of her kind, if anything at all. She could not see how that was possible, but somehow it was. Here in came the problem. She had always assumed that her Master would know what was to be done once she had found him. Finding him was, of course, a great joy, but all the lore that she knew ended there and only hinted at something beyond. Sister had been her teacher, so they both knew as much as the other... Inspiration struck Annabel. There were many others that had crossed into the world of the Creators and at least a few had to have found their Masters. One of them must know about the missing lore. As she came to this conclusion, her mood became that much lighter. They all continued along as the setting sun lit the sky in in brilliant shades of orange and red. So deep in thought were they that it took the soldiers a few minutes to notice the activity on their displays. At some point their implants had reacquired a satellite signal and their SquadNet was active once more. Upon realizing this, the Sergeant called a halt. "Looks like the Net is back up. Cameron and Reichert, find a suitable campsite, we're not going to get much farther today. Everyone else, maintain your positions and keep an eye out," he ordered. Now that the SquadNet was restored and full functions were available to their implants, the squad needed to attend to their wounded. The health readouts and access to medical data were essential for their treatment, as the scouts were only trained in providing first aide. The implants were supposed to supply them with all the information needed to patch up a soldier beyond that if there were no medics nearby. They waited a few minutes. While they did so, they watched the position indicators that marked the two scouts moving about. Eventually they saw that the two soldiers had stopped and their voices came in through the Sergeant's head set. "Sir, we have what looks like a prewar bunker. Its in pretty good condition and it doesn't look like its been inhabited for years, what do you think?" Cameron asked. "Negative Corporal, I'm not about to walk into a military installation I don't know anything about." The Sergeant did not like the idea of getting trapped in any kind of place that he was not absolutely sure had multiple exits. "Understood Sir, we have an alternative site nearby, marking position." The squad's retinal displays directed them to an area near the two other soldiers and they began moving towards it. Once they came within sight they saw that their campsite for the night was to be an old farmhouse. The outer buildings were all in various stages of collapse, but the house itself seemed to be sturdy enough. Its construction and placement were ideal. The windows on the second floor would give them unobstructed fields of fire in all directions and they would not be out in the opening anymore. "Good work men, looks like we get to sleep dry for once," the Sergeant commended the two scouts The idea of a dry place to sleep was appealing to all the soldiers. Even when it was not raining, the dew that would appear on the ground each night would make everything uncomfortably moist by morning. As they moved through the house, they made sure to clear each room as they were trained to do whenever entering an unsecured building. There were no threats though, just a lot of dust and broken furniture. It was when they reached the second floor bedrooms that the house yielded two prizes. "Sir," called down Corporal Anderson," We've got two beds with actual mattresses up here" None of the soldiers could remember the last time that they had slept on real beds. Even when they were on base, all they got were military issue cots that were far from comfortable. The Sergeant was quick to snuff out the ideas that his men were getting though. "Good, I'm sure the ladies will appreciate having something soft to sleep on." His response was loud enough to be sure all the scouts had heard him. A couple subdued groans slipped out from the squad members, but they were not going to argue. They knew that they needed to take care of the women as best they could. "Sister and I could sleep together on just one of the beds," came Annabel's musical voice. She was only trying to be helpful and did not realize the effect her offer would have. Every soldier within earshot suddenly stopped what they were doing and the house went quiet. They all seemed to find something interesting on the walls. Thinking that she had said something wrong, the young blonde spoke again. "I did not mean to give offense.." "No, no you didn't say anything wrong," came the Sergeant's strangled response, "We're used to sleeping on the ground, you and your sister need to be able to get some rest." The two confused young women looked at each other and shrugged before walking up the stairs. None of the soldiers dared turn around until they were sure that the girls were out of sight. Once they did turn around, they all had the same guilty smile. The idea of the two beauties sleeping in the same bed would have been a tantalizing concept at any time, but the 34th had been deployed for so long that it had almost been too much for the deprived soldiers. Upstairs the two beauties in question were searching for their Masters. They had been kept outside while the house was secured or they would have followed them right in. Down the main hallway they spotted them. White was grinning as he waited for them, but Anderson stood stiffly and ignored their approach. "Ladies, welcome to your chambers. If you have need of anything, do not hesitate to ask," White spoke jovially while mock bowing. "Thank you for kindness good Master," Annabel happily played along and curtsied. Corporal Anderson and Annabel's sister remained petulantly quiet. They snuck quick glances at each other to see what effect they were having. By luck, they caught the other's eyes. Just as quickly, they looked away and harrumphed. White nearly choked on the laugh he was holding back. The two were acting so childish it was comical. Annabel only stared back and forth between them in consternation. "Well anyways, You ladies get to bed and we'll wake you up in the morning," White said. The young blonde nodded and the two women moved just inside the doors. They held them open and seemed to be waiting for something. After a few seconds of looking at the men expectantly, the elder sister became annoyed enough to finally break her silence. "Are our Masters going to grace us with their presence or not?" she asked sarcastically. The two soldiers looked momentarily lost before realizing what she was suggesting. Their expressions then turned into a combination of shock and embarrassment. "No we're not... I mean to say that we are not sleeping in the same room... not that thing about gracing you with our presence.... Uhm, Anderson?" White was tripping over his own words. Anderson looked none too happy that the Private had traded off the role of speaking to him, but tried to answer a bit more eloquently than his friend. "What he means is that you girls sleep in here and we'll sleep in the other rooms. So... Good night," he finished lamely. The two scouts began walking away, hoping to get out of the awkward moment as quickly as possible. A second later though, they heard footsteps behind them. They turned to find the two women in the hallway. "Uhm... Why are you following us?" the Corporal queried "We sleep where our Masters sleep," The redhead responded, sounding as if she dared him to challenge her. Anderson rubbed his temple and looked at Private White, encouraging him to speak. He had noticed that the girl that responded depended on which one of the two soldiers spoke first. He had also noticed that they never got anywhere when it was him and the redhead talking... or should he say arguing. White picked up on the his friend's cue and took over speaking in a soothing tone. "Its just not proper for two young ladies to be sleeping in the same room as two men. You girls need to sleep in the rooms." "Master, we are sleeping where you sleep." Anderson's hunch had been correct and it was Annabel that took over the women's side of the argument. Unfortunately it did not help much. Now the younger sister had her arms crossed and had taken a determined stance. White's mind worked quickly, despite the slight shock that his sweet Annabel was being just as contrary as her sister. He knew from past experience that he was not going to win anything when a woman got that look in her eyes. He needed a compromise. "Ok, how's about this? You ladies sleep in the rooms and we'll sleep outside the doors." It seemed like a brilliant idea to him. From the looks the women gave him though, he knew it was a no go. Beside him, Anderson made one last ditch effort to convince them. "The Sergeant said that the rooms are for you two, and he is not going to let you sleep with us. Understand?" "Ah, so you big, strong men need his approval before you can sleep with your women, hmm?" The redhead asked without missing a beat. Anderson wanted to kick himself. He should have seen that he was walking right into that one. "Look, we're not sleeping together and that's all there is to it." The two women just stood their ground and stared. Anderson hoped that their lack of response meant they had given in. He subtly nudged White while turning and the two began walking towards their own rooms. Almost immediately they heard the pair of footsteps following them again. Anderson stopped and mumbled curses under his breath. White let out a defeated sigh, but they both got a little boost of hope when they heard another set of footsteps coming up the staircase. They waited, and sure enough, it was the Sergeant's head that popped into view. As he came to the top of the stars, he saw the four people standing there. All of them were staring at him. "You should all be sleeping. Why aren't you?" he was too tired from the long day to be anything more than curt. "The ladies don't understand that no means no," Corporal Anderson bitterly joked. The Sergeant rubbed his temples and sighed, an unknowing imitation of his two soldiers' earlier reactions. "Just give them whatever the hell it is that they want. We don't have time for this." Anderson and White stared incredulously at their commander. "Sir, they want to sleep with us!" White's tone took on a tinge of despair. "They want to fuck you?" Both the men and women were taken aback at his blunt question. White so much so, that it was up to Anderson to respond. "Uh... no sir... at least I don't think...." he glanced back at the girls as if to get their opinion but stopped halfway and shook his head to clear it. "They just want to sleep next to us I suppose..." "Good God... that's what the fuck you two have your panties in a bunch over. For the sake of your manhood gentlemen, get the hell in there." Past experience had taught all the scouts in their squad that the more the Sergeant peppered his speech with expletives, the more irritated he was becoming. Thankfully he seemed too tired to get overly worked up, but the two soldiers knew that he was no ally in this argument. Muttering various colorful phrases under his breath, the Sergeant turned about and left the group to their own devices. Normally he would have forbidden any inappropriate sleeping arrangements between his men and anyone they might be escorting, but White and Anderson would keep the two women out of trouble. Added on to that, the two had appeared so shocked at the suggestion, that Scott knew they would not take advantage of the ladies. Whether the ladies would try to take advantage of the two men was a different matter though... Back up on the stairs, Anderson and White stared forlornly at the spot where the Sergeant had walked out of sight. The problem was not so much that they were opposed to keeping the two ladies company, but that this situation just seemed inappropriate to them. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 06 Chapter Six - Cock Worship In my dream, Jim is smiling down at me from a great height. He watches as I futilely struggle to reach him. Suddenly, he appears right next to me, wearing his full leathers. Overjoyed to see him, I begin to caress his huge cock which quickly stiffens beneath my touch. Bizarrely, his hard cock transforms into a snake which slithers up my arm and coils itself around my naked body. The snake's grip tightens, then tightens again as if it intents to squeeze the life from me. I awaken to discover myself in a battle with my bedsheets which have wrapped themselves around me in my sleep. I tear myself free then collapse exhausted on the bed with my cock so hard it aches. My craving for Jim was as powerful as any junkie's craving for a long overdue fix. After endless days apart, Friday came to free me from my work week in hell. Freeing me so I could rush across town to the hallway outside Jim's apartment, there I performed the same ritual as the weeks before. Without hesitation, I stripped away my suit and tie, discarding on the floor the disguise I wore in my other life until I stood completely naked. I was no longer concerned with what the neighbors might see. My longing for the touch of Jim's leather gloves against my naked flesh, overwhelmed the remnants of my sense of decency. While collecting my discarded clothes from the floor, I noticed my hand was trembling. I took a breath and tried to relax, assuring myself it was only a bad case of sexual anticipation. A thought occurred to me that I might be developing a sexual addiction? I also considered how wise it was to be in a relationship with a leather top-man so heavily into BDSM and homoerotic humiliation? I shook the thought from my head, reassuring myself I could stop showing up naked at Jim's door whenever I wanted. I opened the apartment door and found Jim reclining back in his favourite armchair with a cigar and a drink, his long thick cock hanging between his legs like a third leg. My first connected with Jim just a month ago, as a novice to the BDSM scene I was still "learning the ropes" regarding the role of a submissive. Upon realizing that a submissive (unlike a sexual slave) could exercise their option to decline their dominant partner's demand, I put aside my doubts and fell into an obsession with Jim. I felt for the first time in my life I knew where I belonged, prostrated naked in front of a strong dominating alpha male. I dropped to my knees in front of Jim's chair and waited for his instructions as he sat enjoying his cigar. At our last two sessions Jim had shot a load of cum down my throat soon after I arrived. He said it relieved his sexual tension which had built up during our week apart, allowing him to leisurely work his cock up to delivering his second and third cum loads. As I knelt there admiring his cock, I thought how servicing Jim's cock was a completely different experience from sucking any other cock. You could not just suck on a cock as mammoth as Jim's. Any cock lover lucky enough to be presented with such a powerful phallus, would get down on their knees and worship it. Each week I knelt at Jim's feet as a willing submissive, renewing my consent to exchange my autonomy for the privilege of demonstrating my devotion to Jim's huge phallus. I performed my oral devotions as an act of worship, believing the phallus as the ideal of physical beauty as well as the source of male dominance and pleasure. Jim put his cigar aside and instructed me to make his cock hard, adding "use only the tip of your tongue". With great care I touched his cock with the wet tip of my tongue then moving very slowly I inched my way up the entire length of his shaft. I performed a second lick and a third, each time as I travelled the length of his shaft his cock grew harder and thicker. The veins that marbled his shaft bulged, swelling with hot blood. Using all of my self control I continued to worship his cock, using only the tip of my tongue until it arched further and further upward. "Enough!" insisted Jim as he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me from his cock. His cock was now fully erect, coated in my spit it glistened as bright as any Christmas ornament. The shaft of his cock was thick and powerful, pulsing with veins. His seemingly endless shaft increased in thickness as it extended out it's length, only narrowing slightly before ballooning out to a full impressive cock-head. Perched like a crown on a top of the strong powerful staff, the cock-head was plump and rock-hard, defined by sharp edges it formed a block shape which always reminded me of a battering ram. A single jewel of pre-cum leaked from his piss-slit and sat like a single drop of nectar, tempting me to taste it. Cocks this huge were often described as monsters but there was nothing monstrous about it, it was a thing of beauty. While still holding me by the hair, Jim used his hard cock like a nightstick to slap me across the face. The sound of his hard flesh hitting me across the cheek exploded in my ear. The blow would have knocked me over if Jim had not been holding me by the hair. Before I could react another smack hit me, then another. Jim wanted me in a heightened state of sexual arousal before he would allow me to swallow his cock. His plan was working, he knew the sudden release of adrenaline would send the rates of my heart beat, blood pressure and breathing soaring. He was using his cock to whip me into a sexual frenzy therefore ensuring my enthusiastic and focused worship of his cock. Just as suddenly, Jim released my hair and laid back into his chair and told me, "Blow me, Cocksucker!" I leaped onto his cock, immediately engulfing his cock-head which filled my mouth. I massaged the sensitive underside of his cock-head with the tip of my tongue as my lips stretched wide to hug his shaft. I closed my eyes, took a breath and let his cock-head slip to the back of my tongue. For a prolonged second I felt my gag reflex kicking in but I did not let it stop me from letting his cock hit the back of my throat. I adjusted my breathing to keep from choking then let his cock sink for the first of many thrusts deep down into my throat. There followed moments, maybe even hours where I was so focused on deep throating Jim's cock that nothing else existed. My "real" life in a suit and tie faded away to nothing. For me there was only the constant pressure against the back of my throat as Jim's cock traveled up and down. For me there was only the sound of Jim's voice whispering in my ear; the taste of his cock in my mouth; the weight of his balls on my hands; the smell of whiskey and cigar smoke; the rhythm of his heartbeat as his blood throbbed through the veins of his cock. My focus so complete, our connection so strong I completely lost myself in my service of Jim's phallus. There was no separation between us, we had fused into one being. With each stroke, my lips reached further and further along his shaft, desperately wanting to go all the way to the base of his cock, desperately wanting to swallow the entire length of Jim's shaft. My head endlessly bobbed up and down in my efforts to milk a hot load of cum from Jim's cock as it rubbed the back of my throat raw. When I felt his hips rising up from the chair, as he tried to force his cock further into my throat, I knew the time was close. I began to knead his big hairy balls in the palms of my hands, gently encouraging them to share their load with me. Jim began to moan then growl, his fists pounded into the arms of the chair as a stream of pre-cum poured down my throat. Jim reached out and grabbed me hard by the head, forcing my head down into his groin. I felt his whole body shudder as a spasm rocked his cock sending the first thick wad of his cum down my throat. His fingers dug into me with his full might as he screamed, "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" With each word another wad of cum shot into my throat. As Jim ejaculated, the muscles of my throat tightened around his shaft massaging it hungrily, milking every drop of semen from him. Jim believed me to be his fuck-hole, treating me as a mere receptacle for his spent loads. While I believed myself to be his dedicated disciple, worshipping his cock and rejoicing in my reward, a mouthful of his sweet sacred nectar. In reality I was a junkie, ravenously swallowing my drug of choice. Unaware to what ends I would go to feed my growing addiction to these doses of Jim's semen. Exhausted, out of breath and crashing from an adrenaline high, I fell to the floor. Jim staggered to his feet, stepping over me as he headed to the kitchen to fix himself another drink. He call back at me to wait for him on my knees in the bedroom beside the sling, adding, "It's time we worked your other fuck-hole!" It was clear from our first night together that Jim was obsessed with the idea of fucking my ass. Every week he squeezed bigger and bigger dildos and butt-plugs into my fuck-hole, always working toward the goal of stretching open my little boy ass until he could mount me. He normally enjoyed the process of gradually stretching open my asshole, as there was no way his over sized cock could enter my ass without ripping me apart. He often joked about raping my asshole and damming the results but he never did ...until that night. Jim had been drinking heavily all evening. I was laying in the sling, my legs in the air, my hands manacled to the sling. I was breathing heavily, having just struggled to take a large black butt-plug up my ass. Jim had smiled his wicked little smile as he watched the butt-plug slip that final inch and my sphincter closed around it's narrow neck, sealing it tight inside my hole. He picked up one of his largest dildos, repeatedly slapping it into the palm of his hand when suddenly he announced, "I've had enough of playing with these toys, your hole is long overdue to be filled with cum. I'm going to fuck the hell out of you. Now!" My heart stopped as my mind raced to process this unexpected threatening remark. There was a part of me who wanted Jim's cock deep up my butt-hole but there was another part of me was very, very scared. I had expected that when this moment came, I would feel more prepared to manage being fucked by Jim's massive cock. In the past, I had always willingly submitted to Jim's demands. If I declined now, would my dissension completely derail the power dynamic between Jim and myself? Tied to Jim's sling was I still a willing submissive or had I become a captive slave? Shattered Boundaries Ch. 06 After some time had passed, an eternity or an instant, the soldiers felt small, soft hands slip into their own. Out of the corner of their eyes they noted the expressions of the sisters. The younger blonde's was a mixture of affection and contentedness. The elder redhead's one of triumph and mischievousness. There was something more beyond their smiles though. An undercurrent the men could only perceive on the farthest edges of their awareness. They turned towards the two beauties and their eyes locked. As if caught once more in a dream, the soldiers began to lose their sense of reality, the world around them fading into an inconsequential haze. All their worries and apprehensions began melting away, and in the fathomless depths of their eyes, the two men found what they could only catch the barest hint of before. Desire. They thought they knew what it was to long for another, but what they sensed now was beyond their experience. This was not lust, an incandescent passion that courses through one's veins. Nor was it even love, a profound yearning in the depths of one's heart. No. What they had discovered surpassed even these. It was desire of the purest kind. A cry of longing, echoing from the very depths of ones soul. From some hidden recess within them, they heard something. It came forth with the feel of familiarity, as if they had heard it all their lives. An answering cry. So long had it been locked away that it had not recognized the presence of their mates until now. The girls sensed the change in their Masters. Without a word being spoken, they led them to the bedrooms. ------------------------------------------- Fire coursed through his body. It was the only way that Anderson could think to describe it. From the center of his being to his farthest extremities, he felt heat radiating out. His heart thundered with a staccato rhythm, each beat serving to pump more liquid fire through his veins. While the heat consumed his inner being, his skin became hyper sensitive. His uniform and armor were an almost unbearable annoyance. The cloth scratched into him and the weight of the armor plates only served to press it in harder. Pleasure came along with the heightened sensations though. The cool air ran across the uncovered portions of his skin. It dampened the smoldering fires just beneath the surface. In his palm he could feel the silky texture of his love's hand. It slid across his own at every motion. Love. The thought broke through the fog of his mind and a slight tremor ran up his spine. Yes, that is what she was. She was his love. Something fought the idea though. A small voice in the back of his mind. A final holdout against what the rest of him new to be true. He stopped. His sudden immobility halted the young women that held his hand. She looked back at him. Her expression one of confusion and fear. Had he decided against being with her? Was she not to his liking? Uncertainty seeped into her heart at his unreadable expression. Her fears were unfounded though. He had paused at the sudden realization that everything had changed so dramatically. Was it not only minutes ago that they fought one another? A laugh echoed through his mind. The constant fights only made him want her more. With that thought his eyes refocused and he saw the beautiful woman before him. Her expression wrenched at his heart. This would not do. Anderson pulled her close. As he did so, his motion smoothly transitioned and he lifted her into his arms. Her eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected change of position. Looking up at him, she noticed him smirking. The infuriating man! Here she was, at her most vulnerable, and he was tossing her about.... Again! Her anger washed away her previous feelings of doubt and fear. Looking down at her, Anderson noted how her green irises seemed to flicker with the fires of her nature. His smirk morphed. It was replaced by an expression of hunger. His little spitfire had come back to her senses. He began carrying her towards the bed. It took her a moment to realize what was happening and then she was not sure whether to be annoyed or pleased that her Master had manipulated her so easily. She decided it did not matter. The problem that needed to be taken care of at the moment was that of all the clothing between them. She quickly and expertly did away with all the clasps and ties that she could reach. Anderson wondered how she knew the design of his armor so well, but only filed away the thought for another time. For now, he just needed to get her onto the bed so he could ravish her. At last they reached the mattress and he laid her down gently. She looked up at him with affection in her eyes, but returned to her work. Almost all of his clothing and equipment were now gone, but from her position she was having a difficult time with his shirt. She had little patience for the flimsy garment and simply ripped it away. Anderson chuckled at her enthusiasm before undoing his own belt and pants. It would be difficult enough to explain why he needed a new shirt without adding more items to the list. On the bed, his soon to be lover took a moment to admire the view she had exposed. She knew her Master was a warrior, but what she saw proved it anew. His body was toned and muscular. His muscles were sleek and built for endurance though. They were not the bulging and disproportioned ones of those fools that wished to attract simpering wenches. She admired their definition and even became enrapt with a bead of sweat that slowly wound its way down his chest. With a start, she regained her focus and realized that she was as yet fully clothed. Her Master was nearly undressed and here she was mooning over him. She moved quickly, slipping off her blouse and moving to undo her pants. Standing above her, Anderson had dropped his last article of clothing and proudly bared himself for all the world to see. But it was the body being bared on the bed that held his interest. As his redheaded enchantress had begun slipping her blouse over her head, he could not help but commit every detail to memory. Every inch of her was perfection. She was certainly athletic, but she retained every curve and even that tantalizing impression of softness that were among the greatest gifts of femininity. Her blouse had continued its rise though, and now his eyes widened a little more at the next revelation he was to encounter. It seemed his love was either not fond of brassieres or, more likely, had no need of them. Her breasts were round and firm, with two pink little nipples capping her lovely peaks. Anderson new nothing of cup measurements, all he cared for was that they looked to be a pleasant handful and he was determined to put that theory to the test. The beauty he was so enraptured with lay unaware of his preoccupation with her form. She was busily working at the closing of her pants. She silently fumed at the female Creator's for their design. How was she to lay with her Master if these accursed things would not be removed. Relief washed over her as whatever held them together finally came loose and she was able to pull them down. She looked up, prepared to drag her Master down to her if need be, but was taken aback. The hunger she saw in him was clear and somewhat overwhelming. A burst of warmth shot through her at the look in his eyes. She could swear that if he did not take her soon, the amount of moisture between her legs would ruin this bedding that the warriors seemed to value so much. Anderson was more than willing to fulfill her wishes on that front. With a low growl he descended upon her and held her arms out. A squeak escaped from between his love's lips. Her flush deepened a little more with embarrassment at the sound she had just made. He barely noticed, primal instinct was demanding action and he caught her eyes once more. In that look, he expressed more than words ever could. She was his woman and he would give her pleasures beyond her wildest dreams. The fiery redhead's contrary attitude was long gone. The silent fears she had communicated to her Bond-Sister, that her Master would not be able give her what she desired, had fled along with it. Here was all she sought, and so much more. All she had to do was allow her Master access to what was rightfully his. And it was her decision. She felt this as surely as she felt the ease with which he held her. If she wished him to stop or showed the slightest indecision, he would reign in his passions. Some of the most powerful forces she had ever beheld would be locked away by a single word from her.... This made her all the more certain of her decision. Anderson saw the change in her eyes. The roiling sea of emotion that he had witnessed a mere moment ago were gone. What had taken its place was pleading... and an almost shy anticipation of its fulfillment. He had his answer. He quickly closed the distance between them. As their lips met, he restrained himself for a moment more. Her lips were so soft and it would be so easy to lose himself, but he had to be sure she understood. In that first kiss, he tried to communicate all the love and adoration he felt. It was gentle at first, a light, yet electric touch. Its intensity gradually increasing until they were left breathless. He broke away once more to gauge her reaction. From her expression, he was sure she understood. Eyes full of contentment looked up at him. Now that he had his wish, it was time to fulfill hers. If there had been any more distance between them, the action Anderson took could have only been described as a pounce. Almost immediately he found a spot at the crook of her neck that elicited a very favorable reaction. As he kissed and nibbled her there, she began squirming about. Her body would rub up against his and low mewling sounds would emanate from her. As she squirmed about, he realized that his hands could be much more gainfully employed. He released her wrists and her arms instantly wrapped themselves around him. He used his now free hands to explore those enticing curves he had previously witnessed. He avoided using the palms of his hands though, as his calluses might have been more of an irritation to his love, but he soon got the impression that she might actually have enjoyed the rough sensation. Indeed she did. The young woman had never been with a man, always knowing she would find her Master, but she felt she needed to be prepared. To that end, she had taken on more than one female lover, but the sensations were completely different. They were small and soft, where her Master was large and powerful. As well, the hands of her previous lovers were always smooth and supple from their gentle lives. The roughness of her Master's hands were a stark contrast and reminded her of who she was with at every caress. As those hands wound their way down her body, they slowed. He was approaching the very source of her womanhood and wanted to savor every sensation. They slid across the outside of her thighs, moving ever closer. Soon they were near their prize. But they would not cross those few final centimeters. The increasingly frustrated young woman could not wait any longer. She gripped his arm and attempted to force him across that short distance. Bu he would not budge. His fingers would dance about, drawing intricate designs across her skin, but they would not move any closer. She wanted to scream. She needed to find a way to end his little game and quickly. But it was as her mind became preoccupied with various schemes, that it happened. Anderson had timed his maneuver perfectly and struck when she least expected it. His hand slipped closer and ever so lightly grazed her clitoris. The sudden touch was like an electric shock, bringing her attention squarely back on to him. Her delicate lips formed an O of surprise, and soon there were low moans escaping from between them. Her Master's skill was a revelation to her. She had heard so often from her lovers that only a women could truly know another woman's body. Yet here he was, bringing her to heights of pleasure that she had never imagined could exist. And he had only employed his hands and lips thus far...What would it be like when he.... She could not think. What he was doing to her was magic. Only disjointed images flashed through her mind. She wanted... something.... Needed it. But what was it... Of course, her Master would know. She tried to get his attention. But she could not form any words, only more moans and whimpers. Instead she tried to touch him. Her body was not working correctly though. It was as one of the Creator's machines if they were to be struck by lightning. It would move, but not in the direction she intended or at the speeds she wanted. Her frustration was growing. She had to get his attention. With great effort she was able to control her voice just for a moment. "Master..." It came as a whisper, but he heard. Anderson looked up. She had never spoken that word in such a way. Always it came filled with sarcasm or tinged with irritation. But now, it came almost as a plea. He knew what she desired. His caresses stopped. Those nimble fingers ceasing their activity. Their faces drew closer and their lips closed into another kiss full of love and reverence. They parted and he moved over her. Gently he positioned himself. Poised at her entrance, he stopped for a moment and kissed her once more. As their lips played against each other, the petals of her flower slowly parted before him. A whimper came from his love. The tightness around him made him worry that he might hurt her. He moved slowly. Only centimeters at a time, always giving her a moment to adjust to his intrusion. Soon he felt that he could go no further and he knew he was fully inside her.. His lover stared up at him in wonder. The sensations were so very different to anything she had experienced. But that was not the reason for the look she gave him. After a lifetime of searching she had almost given up hope... But here she was... well and truly joined with her Master. Anderson held himself without motion. They were both enrapt with the sensations they felt. His instincts would not allow him to hold that position for long though. Soon his love felt him moving within her. Slowly he slid out. The sense of emptiness that he left behind was almost unbearable. She tried to follow him, not wanting to let him go. The way his arms were positioned though, she could not move very far. This elicited another whimper. She wanted him back. Just as it seemed they were to be parted, he moved back into her. Her whimper was transformed into a long, low moan. Anderson could not help but grin down at her. He was filled with pride at her reactions. He was no stranger to sex, but this far different. Each moan, each whimper that came from his love plucked at his heartstrings and filled him with a sweet melody. Certainly he was no stranger to sex... but in the midst of this war torn continent... They made love... For an unknowable amount of time they moved against on another. An eternity that was far too short. Their bodies grew slick with the sweat of their exertions. Their breaths increasingly short and labored. They knew they were soon to reach the apex of their passions. While the tempo of his thrusts grew more rapid, something at the back of Anderson's mind was trying to make its presence known. As their need increased, he tried to ignore it, concentrating on the fulfillment of his promise. Bit by bit they climbed heights previously unknown to them. Soon they stood at a precipice. And with nary a thought, they dove headlong into it... Just as his body shook with pleasure, and his blood alternated between fire and ice, the sliver of knowledge that was struggling to break free made its way to the forefront of his mind. In the midst of this storm, he spoke her name for the first time. "Seraphina..." Shattered Boundaries Ch. 07 Chapter 7: "Do you see that? A wall of flames incinerating our city.... *sigh* ... Appropriate isn't it? Our mastery of fire was what originally set us apart from the other animals. Well my friend, I'll see you on the other side." Unknown speaker. Recording found in the ruins of Portsmouth, Former United Kingdom. Evidence suggests the city was destroyed by AS-10G "Earth Scorcher" Missiles. ----------------------- "Damn, Damn, Damn, Damn...." The words repeated themselves in Private White's mind. A meaningless mantra that staved off every other thought. Curses they might have been at some point, but now they were just a white noise that calmed his nerves. And what was it that shook the battle hardened soldier so deeply? A new enemy? Some great weapon of the previous era? Or perhaps another battle for his very life. No, it was none of these. The cause of his dread was a small young woman... There was nothing threatening about her. She was a tiny, delicate creature, that practically exuded innocence. Every now and then she would sneak a shy glance back at the warrior, but that was all. No weapons, no ill intent, not even a single word being spoken. So why was his heart beating so madly and his palms growing slick with sweat? It was because he had a secret. It was not like he would ever be found out. Why would anyone even suspect? Every few nights he would have to weave a little white lie of course, but he had almost perfected the art of deception. You had to always keep the story simple, not make it too detailed or overcomplicated. Make sure it was easy to remember, but add a little spice to it every now and then. As for the appropriate emotions and facial expressions, you had to make yourself actually feel them, not just try to imitate them. The fact that embellishment was expected only made it that much easier. His methods had served him well for years... But honestly, he had never expected to be in such a situation. He was a soldier away on almost constant tours of duty. What girl could possibly want to live with that? In all likelihood he would be dead before he even reached his twenty-fifth birthday. Damn it all... Why couldn't he have been born a couple decades before the war? He had heard great stories about that time. Being able to travel to other countries without needing a fully armed division at your back. No fear of radiation clouds floating over your home. And more women than men... Certainly if he had been alive back then he would not be burdened with this problem.... But for all the stories he had told, and all his technical knowledge, there was no escaping the truth... He was a virgin. Sure, he could talk a mean game. Hell, he had even fooled all his comrades into believing it. But he had never really been with a girl. That's part of the reason he had been so quick to accept the dream he had of Annabel. For a moment he had thought that instinct had finally kicked in and his subconscious would tell him what it was like. In hindsight, the idea did not make much sense, but one can not exactly think straight in a dream. So there was his problem. The most beautiful girl that he had ever laid eyes upon walked before him, and she had... expectations. Expectations that he was almost certain he could not fulfill. He hoped something would save him. Perhaps an attack on the house, or maybe the Sergeant changing his mind and barging in. Then he could.... What? He couldn't exactly ask for tips from his friends, not after all those stories. They would never let him live it down. Shit, if they started up then Annabel would have to hear them at some point. No way would she even think of giving him another chance. The young soldier's thoughts spiraled into ever more unlikely outcomes. His fears not slowing down for such petty things as sense and logic. He was not the only one though. The young beauty that held his hand was filled with her own apprehensions. After all, she was even less knowledgeable than her Master. Where he had access to all the carnal knowledge of humanity through their various data networks. All she had to go on were whispered innuendo and bawdy songs heard in the less reputable areas of her home. Yes, she had seen her Sister... making the acquaintances of various women, of both the demonic and angelic classes, but she had never dared take up such a practice. What would her Master think of her? And of course, she could not ask her Sister about her dalliances. That would be extremely inappropriate... Inwardly she sighed. She would have to rely on her Master once more. She dearly hoped he would not think less of her. In the short time that they had known each other she was already deep in his debt. And she saw no hope of changing that imbalance. This world was just so strange to her, nothing was as it should be... But for now she had to sort what little knowledge she did have. She knew the.. physical... difference between men and women of course. All those vulgar demons running about in naught a stitch of clothing made certain of that. Occasionally, they would even rut in the streets... The audacity! ...She did harbor a bit of regret that she had not examined their couplings more closely though. They would have undoubtedly provided many hints as to what she was to do. She simply could never bring herself to look. Even now she could feel a blush forming at the thought. But inspiration struck her. Perhaps she did not know, but she had a way of finding out. Something in her immediately rebelled though. This was her Master she was thinking about. It would be such a terrible invasion of his privacy. And when he were to find out, what would he do? It was certainly a question of when, not if. She would have to tell him at some point... But she had to know. Perhaps he would even forgive her. After all, she was doing it for his benefit... Wasn't she? She quickly decided that there was no other choice and would have to go on with her new plan. Her insides seemed to squirm about in protest, but she had too. What was that old saying her Sister had? Ah yes... It is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to ask permission... She hoped it was true... All these thoughts and fears flashed through their minds in the short time it took to reach the side of the bed. Once there, Annabel turned towards her Master. It was now or never, if she waited too long he would notice the difference. She was not sure how well it would work though. She had never used her gift on a Creator, let alone her very Master. White no idea of what she was planning. He was busily examining her every movement and expression. It was not helping him one whit though. All those guides kept talking about how to understand what a woman wanted and when they wanted it. But how was he supposed to know when her pupils were dilated and all that other medical sounding crap? As they moved closer to each other, Annabel forgot her plan. Her Master looked so very... masculine. All those muscles.... And so very firm... She blushed crimson. Her thoughts felt so deliciously wicked. But what would he think of her? She was throwing herself at him like a wanton harlot. Looking down at her, White's thoughts could not have been farther from her fears. He had never seen any woman that could ever hope to compare with her. She was so delicate and graceful... and so soft and warm. He especially loved those big, expressive eyes of hers. They would always look up at him as if he could do anything. With those striking blue irises. They were a light blue, like the sky on a warm summer day. With little silver flecks in them in them as if you could still see the stars. Those flecks would move about in odd little patterns, then they would chase each other, racing around, and around, and around..... There. Annabel was pretty certain that she had managed to hypnotize her Master. He had stopped moving and his breathing had slowed as if he were asleep. That was the easy part though. Now she had to wait and hope that she could attune herself well enough to understand his thoughts. This technique was extremely awkward, but she was not about to delve into his mind. She could not even forgive herself for such a trespass, let alone hope her Master would. The way she was going about it was more like trying to find the scent of a particular flower in the middle of a field. The thoughts and emotions of everyone near her would waft past her and she had to follow the right fragrance. Few beings had the mental discipline to hide their thoughts, so they would all float about in this manner. Once she got into her trance the scents would change into voices. Instead of a field, now she was in a noisy tavern. It was like overhearing conversations all around her, but was much easier than following a vague scent Even without trances or hypnotizing though, she had the passive ability to feel the emotions of the people around her. It was even stronger with her Master. But she had to either delve into his mind or attune to his thoughts to learn more. Annabel slowly began the process. With so many others in the house it was difficult to concentrate on just his thoughts. One by one she identified the mental voices of the soldiers and tuned them out. At one point she came upon the thoughts of her Sister and her sister's master. Annabel's crimson flush returned and her concentration nearly broke. She moved on quickly, but not fast enough. She had gotten a hefty dose of emotion from her Bond-Sister. The room suddenly seemed warmer and she noted a very embarrassing moistness between her legs. Wide-eyed, she did her best to continue, finally coming upon her own Master's thoughts. As he was hypnotized, all she found were a jumble of images and snippets of his voice that came from his memory. Thankfully, most people thought in their own voices. It annoyed her no end when she found the rare case that thought in music or some other abstract way. Now that she had attuned herself to him, she took a moment to sort through the pieces of information that he was sending out. First she tried the voices, but did not find much to work with. Many were indeed her Master's, but others belonged to the soldiers, her Sister, and even herself. She smiled at how clear he was keeping the memory of her voice. But this was not what she was looking for. They were just various memories of the day being filed and sorted. What she needed were his more recent thoughts. So she turned to the images, and immediately her breath caught. They were all of her! And he made her look so very beautiful. His perceptions colored each one and made her out to be so much more than she could accept she really was. She held one of the floating memories still, and saw herself sleeping in his arms. His hand was resting lightly on her cheek as if he had been brushing away a stray strand of hair and had stopped mid-motion. In his mind, she practically glowed. Holding back a tear of joy at the affection she felt in this memory, she moved to another. This one was from just moments ago. She looked back at him shyly and bit her bottom lip. The arousal that permeated this image was undeniable She had not believed she could be so embarrassed, but she had just been proven wrong. It had not at all been her intention to look so.... fuckable... Yes, that.... Wait, what?! That word... had certainly not come from her! Panic rose in her as she looked for its source. Her Master had thought it. But he was hypnotized, how was that possible?! Cautiously, she brought up another image. She needed to test him and see if he really had that thought or if it was just a fluke. This next memory was from the march after they hade made it out of the forest, but it was a little odd. The focus did not seem quite right. Perhaps if she allowed it to play itself out.... Ah that was the problem, they were all moving in this memory. She continued to watch, but was a bit confused. He kept staring at the back of her skirt. And yet again she felt his arousal. She did not see anything wrong with her dress or anything to be inciting any interest, so what could he possibly be looking at?.... That ass... Ahh, so that... What.?! Annabel was speechless. She did not know what to think of such a scandalous observation. But she was becoming.... Between her thighs... Ohhh.... this was unspeakably embarrassing! She had to compose herself. Her Master should not have been able to interject thoughts while she was observing his memories. Through all the years that she had used her abilities, she had never come across such an occurrence. Oh no, what if he remembered all this when she broke the trance?! The dread in the pit of her stomach had returned ten fold. She feared what he might do or think, but she could not hold the trance for much longer. With a shuddering breath, she released her hold on him and awaited the inevitable. Private White blinked. He felt odd, not bad, just odd. What had he been thinking about anyway? Something about stars... He mentally shook himself. This was no time to go off on a tangent. Annabel was looking up at him expectantly. But there was worry in her eyes? Why was that? In his concern, he broke the silence that had reigned for so long. "What's wrong?" Relief washed over her. He did not remember. "Nothing at all Master." She was trying to evade him, but White was not one to give up easily. He stared at her silently, keeping the expression on his face soft so she would not misunderstand his intent. She tried to match his gaze for a moment, but began fidgeting and soon turned away. He smiled. She was downright adorable. Placing a single finger under her chin, he gently forced her to look at him once more. "I...," Annabel stuttered. She could not bring herself to outright lie, but neither could she tell him what she had done. "You can tell me... please?" White whispered in her ear. "I... I'm... IdonotknowhowtolaywithyouMaster." Her words spilled out in a nearly unintelligible jumble. As soon as they left her mouth though, her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. She could not believe she had just said that! She was absolutely mortified. But her feeling of shame grew even deeper as she realized that by admitting such a thing, the entire point of hypnotizing him was rendered null. In just one sentence she had undone everything she had worked for! Her Master would certainly shun her now... White stared at her blankly. He supposed that it had been possible... but he had never imagined... he had always been so afraid of his own inexperience that he had never thought... Oh, wow. He was absolutely stunned. His mind was trying to wrap around a possibility that he had never before considered. But his reverie was soon broken. As he stared down at his love, he noticed something glistening on her cheek. His hand rose, as if by its own accord, and lightly touched the spot he had noticed. The tip of his finger came away moist. A tear? But why? "Love, why are you crying? Its no big deal. I'm... I've never lain with a woman either." White tried to awkwardly comfort her. He still could not bring himself to say the V word, so he had taken up her mode of speech. But it did not help. A half-shudder, half-sob escaped from her and she began crying in earnest. She hugged him as tightly as she could and her tears were soon soaking through his shirt. White did not know what to do or say. Sure, he knew how scary it was to admit such a thing, but it had not been that bad. Or maybe she really was just more afraid than he had been...? He stood there dumbly and hugged her back, trying to give her what little comfort he could. A few minutes passed and her tears came more slowly. An occasional sob still shook her, but she was nearly composed enough to speak again. She knew there was no avoiding it anymore. Even if he did accept that all her tears were shed for the fear of her virginity, the truth would still weigh heavy on her heart. She wanted to be fully with her Master, and keeping any kind of secret would forever keep them apart. Trying to control her voice, she began explaining. If he cast her off and never wished to speak to her again... it was his right... "M-master," she hiccupped, "I did something ter-terrible." She paused for a moment, trying to gather her courage. White could only look down in confusion. She had been with him all day. What could she possibly have done that he had not seen? "I... without your permission.. I.. Hyp-hypnotized you and looked through your me-memories." She closed her eyes tightly and waited for him to push her away. But his hold on her did not falter. Was he not angry...? She couldn't stand not knowing and, despite it being the entire cause of her predicament, she peeked in at his thoughts. She found that he was still running her words through his mind. There was a lot of confusion as well, but no anger. Did he not understand what she had done? He really did not. White was trying, but could not make heads nor tails of what she had just told him. Hypnotizing him? Looking through his memories? What was she talking about...? Well whatever she had done it was obviously upsetting her, and he could not allow her continue in such misery. But how was he supposed to comfort her when he did not even know what he was comforting her about? Despite his lack of understanding, he had to try. "I'm not sure what you mean love, but it can't be all that bad. I'm perfectly fine, see?" "No, no, no. Master you don't un-understand. I broke into your thoughts... Like a... like a thief!" Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and Annabel began crying once more. White was still at a loss. But she said she was a thief. That must have meant she was upset over having taken something from him... didn't it? "Shhhh... It's alright. Listen, everything I have, I share with you. So you can't be a thief, because there's nothing to take." Her sobs quieted. She looked up at him, blinking away her tears. "But, I..." White placed a finger across her lips to keep her from trying to argue with him. Once he was sure that she would not try, he removed his hand and smiled down at her. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, and you are not going to convince me otherwise, understand?" Eyes wide, she only nodded. "Good. Now I think we were in the middle of something, Hmm?" She was frozen in place. The only evidence that she had heard him was a small squeak that caused her Master's smile to widen. White's fears and awkwardness were long gone. In their place he felt only adoration, and a deep, burning desire for his sweet Annabel. With no further ceremony, he bent down and carried his love. As he held her in his arms, she blushed furiously and cast him shy glances. Moonlight streamed in through the broken windows of the old house, and a breeze lazily wound its way between the shattered glass, bringing with it the scent of flowers from a nearby meadow. Neither of the two lovers could imagine a more perfect night. Their hearts beat a thunderous rhythm as White moved to gently lay her on the bed. Before rising, a roguish smile spread across his face. He ducked, quick as lightning, and stole a kiss from his beloved. Her breath caught at the unexpected sensation. While she was recovering he joined her on the mattress and they basked in their shared warmth. No more thoughts, no more words. One of his hands ran down the outside of her arm. A tender caress that mesmerized his love as surely as she had mesmerized him. When he reached her wrist, he continued on so that they intertwined their fingers. It was a symbolic gesture. As they traveled down whatever paths of pleasure were to be laid out before them, they would do so hand in hand. They shared another kiss and affectionately nuzzled. The warmth shooting through their veins was getting to be too much though. They reluctantly released each other and moved to undo their clothing. White worked quickly, slipping off his shirt and unlacing his boots. They dropped to the floor with a resounding thump that made him wince, but he ignored it. Before he could begin on his pants, he noticed that Annabel was having trouble with her own clothing. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 07 Chapter 7 - "This is how it feels to be fucked by a real man!" I hung suspended in the sling, spread-eagle with my privates displayed like a two dollar whore. He had restrained my hands above my head, denying me any modesty or protection. My legs were spread wide and hoisted into stirrups, laying bare my ass cheeks which now were smeared with lube. My ass-hole was exposed, having just been primed and stretched open by several large dildos. Aroused but also frightened I watched his hand slowly move up and down the length of his cock as he applied a generous layer of lube. The girth of his cock so thick, the grip of his hand could not reach all the way around the shaft. He pressed the head of his cock against my anus, it was cold from the lube. An icy shutter ran through my body reinforcing my sense that a major turning point in the storyline of my life was about to happen. It was clear to me now that my life up to this point had been a sham. I had merely been going through the movements of living a life. Much like an actor playing the role expected of him by his audience. Never completely comfortable in the role, it had caused me to become shy, reserved and unusually modest regarding my body. However the raw, naked connection between the two of us was so intensely intimate, there could be no acting or falsehoods here. As if for the first time, my heart had suddenly come alive in my chest, erratically pounding out my fear. Since the first day I met Jim, he had been determined to shove his massive cock up my asshole. For weeks he had been attempting to stretch me open by cramming increasingly larger dildos into my asshole. Unexpectedly tonight he had become frustrated with the delay, announcing "I've had enough of playing with these toys, your hole is long overdue to be filled with my cum. It's time to fuck the hell out of you." Jim's sudden tantrum unnerved me, undermining the little confidence I possessed. I was worried, I suddenly felt like a virgin unexpectedly presented with a lover's huge endowment. It had been a struggle to take Jim's collection of dildos up my asshole, it was difficult to imagine how I could be fucked by his massive cock without being split apart. I searched Jim's face for any sign of reassurance. His dark eyes clouded with lust and booze, offered me no comfort. I was overwhelmed, much like the first night I met Jim. I had been so nervous and sexually inexperienced, it had taking Jim only moments to both subjugate and sexual arouse me. After sitting me at his feet, he stuffed his large hairy balls into my mouth then seduced my body and mind with only the sound of his voice. That is when my fascination with this charismatic leather-man and his porn-star sized cock began. My fascination soon developed into a kind of obsession, bordering along the lines of a devout worship of his magnificent phallus. These last few weeks, it had become increasingly difficult to play my role as the good boy when my every waking moment was filled with the memories of the touch of his leathers against my hot naked flesh, the pungent smell of his cigar and the sweet, sweet taste of his cum. "You look frightened!" Jim suddenly declared. He was squinting down at me in the sling, studying my face for clues to my state of mind. This was my opportunity to voice my hesitation about having my ass-hole ravished. Yet, I found myself unable to speak, too afraid of what might come out of my mouth. If I angered Jim and he kicked me out, I knew I could never return to play-acting my way through my old life. Fluctuating between two unthinkable paths, I lay there as a limp and speechless as a half deflated blow-up sex doll. Jim smiled down at me then skimmed his leather gloved hands gently across my chest, the touch of his soft leathers against my skin calmed me instantly. He pinched my nipples between his finger tips, gently at first but soon he increased the force. Pressing his finger tips harder and harder into my flesh, he bent down close to me. I could smell the strong smell of liquor on his breath. Wrapping his lips around my left nipple, he sucked it into his mouth then began to dig his teeth into my flesh. I closed my eyes and relaxed as his gentle nippling on my tit increased in intensity. I involuntarily arched my back and released my breath, letting the sensation of both pleasure and pain flood out into my body. Suddenly with a quick forward movement of his hips, he plunged the head of his cock into my anus in one sharp violent jab. A shock wave of pain rippled throughout my body, just like I had taken a punch. My mouth flew open as a rush of inward air sucked a scream back down my throat. Abruptly there was no air in the room, no thought in my head, only a intense increasing pressure as my ass-hole was being wrenched open. My hands clawed out into the air, grabbing onto the straps of the sling. I tried to pull my body backwards into the sling and off Jim's cock. I managed to crawled backward a few inches as I sucked enough air into my lungs to cry out, "No, No, Stop!" Despite my pleads, Jim bit down harder into my nipple as he continued to bulldoze forward into my asshole. My anus being no match for Jim's battering ram of a cock was forced to stretch out under the mounting pressure. I screamed out "It's too big, it's too big!" as Jim's corona, the projecting ridge that encircled the base of his cock-head reached my anus ring. Jim's corona was thick and hard, roughly callused from years of friction. With one final shove Jim squeezed his corona through my anus ring, it felt like sandpaper against the tender flesh around my ass-hole. I experienced a very slight relief as my anus contracted slightly as it sunk into the narrower neck of his cock. Jim's cock-head was now fully inside my asshole, it was like being impaled on the end of a heavy metal spike. Jim slowly released the pressure of his teeth on my flesh, letting my sore, wet nipple drop from his mouth. He straightened up and said almost jokingly, "Do you really want me to stop?" He wore that wicked little smile, the smile that meant he was again testing his ability to manipulate me. Sex with Jim was a continuous power struggle. He was determined to expand my sexual boundaries, always wanting to know how far I would debase myself to please and obey him. Dominating me gave Jim the adrenalin rush that made his cock throb. If my domination included ways to sexually humiliate me, his immense cock grew all the harder. "You show up naked at my door each week. No matter how badly I abuse you, no matter how many loads of cum I dump down your throat or how many toys I shove up your ass, you keep coming back." Jim stated in a calm, cool matter of fact tone. Then raising his voice with each word he added, "Tell me why boy, why you keep coming back for more?" "I don't know, Sir. I just...want...need..." I stammered. Unable to voice a response under the stress of his stare and the pressure of his cock staked into my asshole, my voice trailed off into silence. "I'll tell you why you're tied to my sling with your ass in the air, your balls strung up like punching bags!" to emphasize his point Jim smacked my balls with the back of his hand, sending a shock wave of pain rippling though my body. "Your happy little life means nothing to you, you wear it like a fucking disguise to cover your own deeply seeded need to be controlled." he paused letting the impact of his statement take it's effect. Meanwhile his hips forced his cock further into my ass, putting enormous pressure on my anus to expand. "You come to me because you can drop your disguise of being the good little boy. There is no one here to judge your actions as amoral or obscene, no one to assign guilt or whose shame you must endure." "You think your desire to be dominated makes you a victim, makes you weak and powerless but you're wrong. It takes strength to withstand the kind of pain and humiliation I administer!" he said as the increasing girth of his cock's shaft stretched out my anus. It felt like my anus had been stretched to it's limit but I knew Jim's cock well, there was still so much more girth to come. I gripped the straps of the sling harder, preparing myself for that was to come next. "If you have the guts to stick it out, you might discover your self-worth in being a submissive! Now, you don't really want me to stop, do you?" he said with a smile. I heard the sling creak as Jim's body weight shifted forward. I remember my whole body tensing, my eyes and mouth stretched wide open as if they also needed to absorb the great lump of flesh that was about to invade my body. I trembled uncontrollable, reacting to the continuous physical force being exerted to push my body beyond it's limits. Jim bent down, laying his body down on top of mine. His body weight pressed me deep in the sling as our bodies interlocked. My nostrils filled with his liquored breath as I lay there struggling with the pain. His hands slid over my body then up my arms to grip me tightly by the wrists, reinforcing his intention I was not going to escape from him. For a moment the caress of his smooth leathers gloves against my skin distracted me from my suffering but then I felt Jim's hips push forward as his cock sank further into my ass. I held my breath as there was a brief battle between the thickest section of his cock's shaft against my anus ring, I knew I could not win. I rocked back and forth in the sling, gripped by an overwhelmed desire to flee but trapped under Jim's weight, I could barely move an inch. The strain upon my ass-hole to extend beyond it's limits kept growing as more of Jim's massive cock penetrated further into me. Inwardly I screamed out as the volume of hard cock flesh expanded my insides to where the pain and pressure began to consume my body. It felt that soon there would be nothing left of me but physical and emotional suffering. "It drives me crazy when I see that look on your face." Jim said. I watched the words come out of Jim's mouth but I could not hear them. I was already escaping from my body, removing myself from an unbearable situation. Abruptly I was across the room, a voyeur spying on a depraved scene of the strong overpowering the weak, the old corrupting the innocent. Clad in only leather boots, chaps, vest and gloves, an older man was bend over a younger man. His leathers were old and wore from years of hard wear, much like his body. He had the body of a lifelong labourer, his muscles once bursting with youth and strength were now long and lean, depleted by the ravages of time. His face was a roadmap of his years of hard living which had etched deep lines across his features, they had not yet completely erased the traces of a once handsome face. He was forcing his beast of a cock into the ass of a young man who was bound naked and spread-eagle in a rubber sling. The leather man was smiling but his dark eyes betrayed him, this was not a joyous smile. The young male in the sling, gave the impression of being much younger than his years. His hairless body was small with narrow hips. His chest, arms and shoulders still on the brink of blossoming into early manhood. His dishevelled dark hair was a striking contrast to the pale, milky tones of his skin. He still had the blush of youth on his plump crimson cheeks which with his full, rose coloured lips contributed to his youthful appearance. However, his most striking feature, the one that captured your complete attention was his large azure blue eyes. One glance into his clear, bright eyes was to be lost in a cloudless sky. He had the type of remarkable and angelic looks that drew out the generosity and kindness in people, assuring him a easy, carefree life. There was however also a dark side to his enticing appearance. It acted as an aphrodisiac to the kind of men whose uncontrollable desires drove them to pursue, seduce then corrupt the innocence and the beautiful, therefore tarnishing it's radiant glow forever. I watched as the leather top pulled his hips backwards only to tighten his muscular ass cheeks and jam his hard cock forward, squeezing it between the lily white ass cheeks of the trapped boy. I watched him smile as with each stroke his massive cock sank deeper into the boy's ravaged, pink hole. I watched the expressions of suffering distort the boy's handsome face that accompanied each of the top's cruel thrusts. A striking display of lust, power and domination as well as one of pain, vulnerability and degradation. Difficult to witness yet impossible to turn away from. A scene of such raw capitulation, where the dominate man breaks down the boy's self-esteem one stroke at a time as his over-sized manhood reshaped the boy's ass-hole into his own personal fuck hole. It would not take long before the boy viewed himself as little more than cum-bucket, a receptacle only worthy of being abused, fucked and filled with spent cum loads from every man who desired him. Despite my discomfort at witnessing this scene of such violation, it was so mesmerizing I could not look away. The raw, naked intimacy of the two males seduced my full attention, drawing me to them. I was difficult not to admire the energy and the virility of the older man with his throbbing fuck tool, a phallus worthy of a Greek god. While watching his coarse omnipotent cock repeatedly disappear into the boy's cherubic like butt, I developed an empathy with the dominate male. I sensed that this was not an assault but one of nature's beautiful contests. Violation being part of the natural order was no doubt brutal but not tragic. What could be more understandable then the survival of the strongest? What could be more natural then the instinct to spread your seed by breeding the conquered? It was for this very reason, cultures all over the world had worshiped the phallus for centuries. It was while I watched this exhibition of the eternal sexual battle play out, a powerful urge rose up within me. I recognized my life-long urge to be physical and mentally dominated by strong and powerful men. I've battled with this compulsive desire all my life. Seizing hold of me once again, I offering up no resistance to my nemesis. Allowing it to crush me under it's dark embrace. After witnessing this display of sexual violation, I no longer equated willing surrender to superior forces as defeat. I knew that I could no longer play the role of the good boy, no longer would I suppress my desire to surrender myself to an alpha male. Instead I would spread my legs and offer up my ass for breeding as tribute. The moral code of "does and don't" which I had faithfully wore like a heavy yoke around my neck, was useless to me now. Corrupt and rotten, it dropped from my neck, falling into dust at my feet. Released from this righteous burden I stood up erect and tall with the sudden confidence that "I alone" directed my life. With my dark urges pointing the path ahead, I took my first cautious steps into my new role. No longer enslaved by my guilt, I began my transition into being a free submissive. Behind me I abandoned the dead weight of my inhibitions, having dragged them along with me far too long. I stepped closer towards the boy in the sling. Envying his initiation, envying those magnificent powerful thrusts being lunged into his tight, pink hole. I looked into the depths of his azure blue eyes and recognized myself. In the blink of an eye, I was back tied up to the sling and looking up into Jim's face. He had released my wrists to grab me by the ankles so he could pry my legs apart. The next thrust of his battering ram of a cock into my asshole came with the full force of his body behind it. I suppressed a scream as his cock hammered it's way into my hole. Shock waves rippled into my gut and through my body knocking the air from my lungs. I knew the next assault would be as forceful and cruel as the last but I braced myself, gulping down a breath of air then released it slowly as the next thrust come at me full force. Jim soon established a rhythm, each forward thrust would slam into me with such force it would send my body briefly into the air before falling back into the sling. He would then withdraw his cock until his corona with it's hard raised ridge sat scraping against the tender flesh of my anus, ready for his next attack. There were moments between thrusts without Jim's cock inside me I felt empty and hollow inside but they were short lived as each thrust was soon followed by another. My subjugation continued with each thrust, he pounded into me the fact I was nothing more than his fuck-hole. There were moments when I began to panic, certain I was going to be split in two as he penetrated further down into my fuck tunnel. I am sure Jim recognized my moments of distress but he did not stop riding me, only smiled down at me and redoubled his resolve. His strokes were coming at me so fast and hard, I knew it was not enough to mentally surrender to Jim, my body had to become more receptive and absorb the force of Jim's endless fucking. I released my grip on the sling and allowed my body's weight to drop down further into the sling. It was then that I realized how exhausted I had become fighting against each of Jim's lunges. I took a breath and tried to release my over strained muscles, allowing my body to relax and melt into the sling. The sling began heaved wildly up and down. It was not long before I was seeing stars before my eyes as the room began to spin around me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on absorbing the force from each thrust as it knocked into my butt. With my eyes closed I could clearly distinguish Jim's rough corona scraping back and forth against the tender flesh of ass-hole, a sensation of friction somewhere between torture and ecstasy. This sensation of friction was followed by the pressure from the girth of Jim's broad shaft as it penetrated into my hole. Jim's shaft was rock hard and so absurdly thick it exerted incredible force against the inside walls of my hole. It felt like my body was being pried open from the inside. My straining flesh forced to surrender and then to submit to being stretched beyond it's limit to accommodate Jim's increasing demand for deeper access into my hole. Seeming without end, the invasion in my body continued. The ordeal of having my ass-hole overstuffed with his hard hulking pulsing cock, overwhelming all of my other senses. I understood that with each bulldozing stroke Jim was forever perverting me by expanding the limits of my cavity. I knew that he would not stop until his cock was ball-deep in my hole. I felt my weary body go limp as any last remaining resistance and tense disappeared, my flesh yielded to Jim's unstoppable lust for control. Sensing my body's surrender, Jim slowed the tempo of his strokes, no longer slamming his cock into my body. He began toying with me, teasing me by gradually penetrating bit by bit, inch by inch ever further into my fuck hole. Continually and deliberately testing my receptiveness to his thrusts. The massive volume and considerable weight of Jim's meaty cock burrowing into the depths my body was like being invaded by a great beast. One moment, it was as if was possessed by Jim's demon cock as he stuffed my hole until I felt I would burst. Only in the next moment, to feel abandoned as he withdrew his cock, leaving me cold, empty and yearning the return of his tormenting cock. It was maddening; back and forth, in and out, advance then retreat, pain followed by pleasure. I could feel my body heat raising up in me, Jim's relentless fucking had caused the smouldering mental turmoil within me to ignite, it burst into a searing blaze. A cleansing flame swept through my body, fuelled by the dry, stale remnants of an un-lived life. The flame consumed everything, left in it's wake only an aching, charred shell remained. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 07 Delirious, fevered and half out of my mind, I imagined that my life as well as my body was now a hollow cavity, a vacuum that nature would not allow to remain empty. As rivers of sweat poured off of me, I was overwhelmed by the irresistible desire to fill the aching emptiness I held inside of me. My hands stretching out against my bonds, I longed to be released from my restrains. I fantasized about leaping from this sling and wrapping my arms around Jim's neck. I imagined mounting his cock and while looking deep into his cold eyes, jamming every swollen, rock-hard inch of his fuck tool deep into my hole. Only when his cock was ball-deep inside my fuck hole with his sweaty balls pressed hard against my butt, could the aching void inside of me be appeased. Jim's assessment of my life had been correct, I had only been going through the motions of a real life. I had never felt comfortable in playing the role of the good boy. It always felt hollow and fake, like being on stage with no true sense of substance. However, my connection with Jim was painfully real. Withstanding Jim's abuses and humiliations made me feel truly alive, it gave me a strange sense of achievement and power. All doubt about my future disappeared. I knew I belonged naked, restrained and impaled on the end of Jim's beast of a cock. "This is how it feels to be fucked by a real man!" I heard a voice whisper in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing reality for the first time. For a moment, I got a glimpse of my future reflected in the lust that filled Jim's black eyes. I saw clearly that if I shattered this boundary, I would embark on a long and twisted odyssey to fulfil my potential as a submissive. I murmured something unintelligible as my mind filled with cloudy visions of the dark depths of human sexuality, I would need to explore on my quest. What I did not recognize or could have envisioned for my future was the vile sexual acts I would be complied to perform. No sane person could have imagined the depraved sexual practices as well as the degrading exhibitions of public humiliation that Jim's warped mind envisioned for my future. My fever rose as the fire within me grew, fuelled by what I foolishly thought to be the last remnants of my shame and inhibitions. A soft whisper slipped out of my mouth, "Fuck me Sir, Please." To be continued in Chapter Eight. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 07 She had looked all over for some clasps or buttons that would loosen the garments but had found none. In her frustration she had tried to simply slip out of the tight fitting clothes, and had managed to trap her arm in an awkward position. The more she struggled, the more difficult it became to disentangle herself. White held back a laugh. She was just so adorable. Her predicament begged the question of how she had gotten dressed in the first place, but he decided to help her rather than dwell on such a question. He knew full well that there was a zipper that ran up the center of the back. He had seen it while... being otherwise occupied with certain parts of her anatomy. Though she had been ignoring the link she had established up to that point, Annabel immediately sensed his train of thought. Her face reddened in renewed embarrassment and her struggles increased. She had caught the part about the zipper though, and tried to reach it. She twisted this way and that, but simply could not get a hold of it. White tried to come to her rescue and he held her still. She had ended up in at an odd angle to him and he had to lift himself on one arm to reach the offending item. As he balanced over her, he finally got a decent hold and began pulling it down. Unfortunately, her trapped arm had stretched the material of the dress and the zipper would continually get stuck. With his arm tiring, he tried one last, mighty jerk. The smooth material of the mattress immediately gave way against his socks and he slipped. His attempts to keep his balance were in vain as he ended up overcompensating and landing on his lover. They both shared a nervous laugh at the accident, but he quickly slid off. Fortunately, his gamble had paid off and the zipper had come down. Now he helped Annabel slip her arms out. She managed to slide the dress the rest of the way off by herself. Now that her tight clothes were removed, Annabel felt much more comfortable than she could remember. She did not understand why the female Creator's would wear such constricting things. The breeze washed over her bare skin and she languidly stretched out. A slight movement at the edge of her vision reminded her where she was. She embarrassedly turned back towards her Master, only to find his mouth hanging open. White knew full well the position of his jaw, but could do nothing about it. Her beauty was beyond description. She was all flowing curves, and smooth skin. A pair of virginal white panties and matching brassier were all that kept his eyes from roaming across her most intimate areas. He could not even chalk this up to a dream. His mind could never hope to conjure such a vision of perfection. At his thoughts, Annabel fidgeted self consciously. Their mental link was still holding strong, but she was having trouble believing that he could heap such praise on her. She tried to keep herself presentable, especially after they had broken through to this world, but she would not call herself perfect.... Despite her modesty, she could not help the smile that spread across her face. It was not every day that you left your Creator speechless. White shook himself out of his reverie. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. But for now he needed the rest of his clothes off. Quickly, he unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. His last few items of clothing were tossed this way and that. Beside him, Annabel did not know what else she was to do. His thoughts were all filled with images of her and she could not find a single clue. Doing her best to ignore the impulse to cover herself, she looked on at her Master. As he moved about, his muscles would shift under his skin with such fluidity... But while his body did indeed draw her eyes, it was something else that made her yearn for him. He was the most handsome man she had seen in either of the realms, but he had this magnetism to him that made her so very... Annabel's hand drifted down without her knowing. Her legs closed tightly against each other as she began feeling so very... right. White was done with his clothes. And about damned time. All these little annoyances were never mentioned in the holobooks or on the vids. It was always to people with barely a stitch of clothing just going at it. But it did not matter, he was ready to.... "Master..." He turned at the sound of Annabel's voice. It had barely been a whisper, but was full of beseeching. As his eyes came to rest upon her, a glorious sight was laid out before him. Her thighs were slowly rubbing against each other as one of her hands played under her panties. But her eyes were a mix of confusion and pleading. Her other hand opened and closed at her side as if she did not know what to do with it. White grinned. The angels in heaven must surely have been jealous of him now. Only later would he come to understand the irony of such a thought. He was not following any plan or advice. All he saw was a beautiful woman in need, and he was the only one that could help her. He did not know where to start, but his hand was immediately drawn atop her own. Sliding her panties a little further down, he began guiding her fingers. She had previously been rubbing around the outside if her womanhood, too embarrassed to move closer. Now though, her Master encouraged her exploration. Little oh's and ah's slipped past her lips at the new sensations. Perhaps sooner than he wished, White was confident enough in her ministrations to allow his attentions to wander. There was one more sight, or perhaps he should say two more, that he fervently wished to see. He brought up his hand and hooked a finger under one of the cups of her brassiere. He paused and glanced up for her permission to continue. With her eyes closed though, Annabel was not even aware that his attention had shifted. So he went ahead and pulled the cup down. Oh what a glorious sight! Her breast was a bit fuller than he had been able to guess under her clothing, with a dark, puckered little nipple that drew his eyes. White drew a shuttering breath. This would be his first truly intimate contact with a women. Sure he had just helped guide Annabel's hand, but he had not really touched her. Now he lowered his head, and lightly blew on it. A shiver ran through her, but she did not pay much attention. So she's going to be like the eh? Mischief danced in his eyes. He lowered himself forward and licked ever so slowly around the edge of her areola. Still nothing. He had one more trick up his sleeve though. Drawing down the opposite cup, he got himself in position. He timed himself, observing the rise and fall of her chest. As it rose with a deep breath, White sprung into action. He sucked in her nipple and began teasing it with tongue. His hand dropped down and began messaging her other breast. The effect was immediate. All the air that she had just breathed in was forcefully expelled in a loud moan, and her eyes shot opening. It was a chore trying to keep up his assault when a big grin wanted to spread across his face, but he managed it. His ministrations continued, and it was obvious that his love was thoroughly enjoying his attention. She squirmed about and her breaths came shorter. Her free hand came up and entangled itself in his hair to keep him in place. White was having the time of his life and for the next few minutes would switch back and forth between breasts. This was certainly better than anything he could have imagined, and he had yet to... His heart missed a beat. His apprehensions came back, but it was like a tug of war. He felt the fear, but at the same time, his mind could not concentrate on why specifically he should be afraid. This was all pleasure and wonder. And then an epiphany came. He wanted to slap himself for his ignorance. He had always thought of sex and lovemaking as the same thing. That being like a competition or a test. Not in so many words of course, it was just a general idea that he was supposed to measure up and perform to his partners expectations. But that was all wrong. His sweet Annabel was practically putty in his hands and all he had done was what seemed fun to him. This was the truth. The point was not to reach for some unattainable perfection of technique. It was to get her to make all these cute little faces. All his self doubt and fears of failure were gone. White was ready, and wanted, with all his being, to give his love a night she would never forget. It all became a blur after that. His hands and mouth would wander everywhere. Only stopping when he elicited a particularly delicious sounding moan or his lover held him in place. Sweat poured from their bodies and their breathing became ragged. Soon though, it was time. During a particularly impressive display of White's ability to multitask, his love placed a hand on his cheek. He paused in curiosity and looked up. Not a single word passed from her lips, but the look in her eyes was full of meaning. He looked back questioningly. Realizing what he was asking, he quickly shook his to head to clear the expression. Annabel only smiled down at him and nodded her head. With that, their silent conversation came to an end. White slid up against her, loathe to break their contact while he repositioned. Face to face their gazes locked. Unabashed, pure love flowed between them. This was their last chance to back away, to doubt, or to wait for another day. But neither hesitated. With one last kiss, he thrust forward, and the two young lovers were joined. Annabel let out a soft cry at the intrusion. Her Master paused. He knew that this was the time in which his love was most vulnerable. When he could most easily hurt her. And so he moved slowly, pausing at the slightest sign of discomfort that she might have given. Bit by bit he entered her, the pulsating warmth all around him testing his self restraint. But he would not dare move more quickly, no matter how he wished to be fully inside her. As their hips inched closer, he stopped. He felt the barrier of her virginity before him. He had heard many stories of how terribly painful this could be. He looked at her once more, wondering if she understood what was to come. Through their bond, she had heard every one of his thought. But she felt no fear, only absolute trust in her Master. He would never wish to do her harm. She leaned up and kissed him, trying to impart all the confidence she felt for him. White understood. She was ready. He pulled back slightly, both of them begrudging every centimeter that they lost. She breathed in and steeled herself for what was to come. And soon he thrust forward. A cry went up that seemed to hang in the air. Her arms tightened around him. The flash of pain shook her, and her breaths became uneven. But it was over. He had claimed her as his own. Annabel, his dear sweet Annabel, looked up at him with a smile. A single tear still hung at the corner of her eye, but her joy was undeniable. Another kiss was shared, and he began to move once more. At first it was only the slightest of motions, for he still feared to cause her more pain. But soon her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth parted in pleasure. His thrusts grew in confidence, and the room filled with moans and gasps. A strange thing happened then. Something that Annabel could never have foreseen. The bond she had woven between them warped and flexed. But rather than breaking, it grew stronger. In the midst of their pleasure they never realized something was different. New sounds filled the once quiet spaces of their minds. Heartbeats, strange, yet familiar. Not their own, but belonging to one another. The gift her Master had unknowingly given her, grew to fulfill its true purpose. A bond formed in love, tempered in tears, and quenched in forgiveness. Higher and higher they climbed, with this unknown link further adding to their bliss. Ah, but all things must come an end. Love is no cruel thing however, and the young couple had one more gift to receive. They felt it nearly upon them. Their motions grew wild. Their breaths came in short gasps. And soon they reached their peak. Stars exploded before their eyes. Fire coursed through their veins. And their entire beings were centered at the point of their union. As the moonlight streamed in and the wind played against their skin, neither of the lovers could imagine a more perfect night. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 08 Well here we are again. Its been months when I promised weeks, but I'm going to try once more to keep going til the end. A special thank you to the anon that reminded me there were still people out there waiting. Not too much action in this chapter, as everyone is still recovering from last night. Ah, one more thing, I was trying a slightly different style and the viewpoints will shift more often, please tell me if this works alright or if things become too jumbled and confusing. Chapter 8: "Tired... They say that the North American countries survived. That's where we are all heading. There is nothing left for us in our homes. The seeds will not grow anymore, and the water... we think something is wrong with the water. But we need to drink, what good would it do if he all died of thirst before we reached the North?...Tired... so very tired..." Voice journal, unknown South American refugee. Final Entry. ------------------------------------- Anderson woke slowly. The fog of sleep clung to him and seemed reluctant to let him go. This was somewhat unusual. The demands of his life as a soldier typically resulted in prompt and alert awakenings. His eyes fought his attempts to open them and the muscles of his body felt like they were made of water. More unusual though, there seemed to be light shining through his eyelids. That couldn't be right, he hadn't been woken up for his patrol shift yet, so it couldn't be daytime. With a low groan at the exertion, Anderson tried to sit up. That's when he noticed something was pinning his arm down. What the Hell? He looked down expecting to find a misplaced piece of gear, or maybe even a fallen tree branch, but what he found was something quite different. ------------------------------------ Downstairs, Sergeant Scott and his men had been awake for a good few hours. During that time they had been doing their best to tend to their wounded and to get a hold of Division Command. While communications were proving difficult to establish, the wounded soldiers were recovering well and there was little danger of their health deteriorating any further... if they could reach the Bleu lines soon. Scott looked around at the large central living room he stood in as he waited for his men to complete their duties. The farmhouse had been more of a blessing than he could have hoped for. Not only had they been sheltered from the elements, but they had found drinkable water in a little well behind the main building. Most freshwater sources this close to Paris were toxic due to the radiation contamination and so the well was truly a rare find. Even more important than that though, the upstairs bedrooms had provided him with a chance to keep the two women out of sight. It did not matter how well trained, how good natured, or how honorable his men were, there was no chance he would allow the two young ladies to sleep in amongst the soldiers. He knew for a fact that most of them had been on deployment for three years now, some even longer than that. The manpower to rotate them out regularly was simply not there. As a result, none of them had even seen a woman, let alone have one sleeping nearby, in years. Even if they resisted the temptation he doubted they would get much restful sleep... not that hey gotten much of that last night... He was going to have a serious word with those two boys. Just as he thought that, a loud half strangled yelp came from upstairs. It was immediately followed by a thud as something landed on the floor above them, and some unintelligible shouting started. Well... it seemed they were finally awake. The Sergeant ran a hand through his hair and breathed a sigh. If they had just woken up and were already at each others throats, he could not imagine the rest of the day would see any improvement. Tiredly he walked to the stairs and started climbing. It was going to be a long day. ----------------------------------- It. was. not. FUCKING! NATURAL! Anderson burst into the hallway, his gear haphazardly hanging off of him as he tried to walk and put it on at the same time. The only thing missing was his shirt. He did not even want to remember why it was shredded to pieces. And that was the problem. Everything about last night was just not natural. They had been fighting nearly since the moment they laid eyes on each other. She did everything in her power to annoy him.... And bloody well succeeded. Hell, they had been arguing right up until that moment. So, how was it that one look into her eyes and "BAM", not only were they not fighting anymore, they were bloody near bringing the house down. Anderson was at his wit's end. Everything that had happened the past few days was catching up to him. First they got attacked by something that looked like a pack of mutant bulldogs, then he thinks he sees a girl with tail. Next, a young blonde girl comes running out of the woods straight to White, calling him Master and making no sense whatsoever. Then they walk into a military camp full of corpses, only to find the most bloody irritating woman in the world. And finally... finally, she just looks at him and suddenly they are having mind blowing, world shattering sex! As his fingers fumbled at the clasps of his body armor, Anderson could only think one thing. All the strange happenings the last few days were related to the two girls somehow. They were at the center of something extremely dangerous and utterly incomprehensible. He did not know what it was all about, but he had to tell the Sergeant. If he told him perhaps they could... What? Anderson paused. What exactly was he going to try to do? They couldn't just leave them here. The very idea twisted at his insides. But something needed to be done. If the current state of affairs continued, the entire squad would end up like Rodriguez and Lee. The fact that they had all survived that ambush in the woods was a miracle unto itself. As Anderson struggled equally with his gear and inner turmoil, the door of the other bedroom opened. A half asleep Private White stood on the other side. Disheveled was the perfect description for the young scout. His short hair was a mess atop his head, with a seemingly random spike of it sticking up on one side. His fatigues were crumpled and looked like they had been hurriedly been tossed on, while his body armor and the remainder of his equipment were entirely absent. "...What'd I miss?", asked the soldier as a loud yawn rendered his question nearly unintelligible. The irritated Corporal didn't have a chance to answer as a thunderous voice came from the stairs. "You two! Down here! Now!" They looked over in time to see the back of Sergeant Scott's head as he made his way down to the first floor. White was too sleep addled to think anything of the Sergeant's tone, but Anderson, on the other hand, felt a chill run down his spine and a heaviness settle in his stomach. No matter how you looked at it, they had both just slept with two women that their squad was supposed to be escorting. His imagination began conjuring up terrifying images... Him and White restrained and walking alongside the two enemy captives.... Standing before a military tribunal as his rank was stripped from him and he was dishonorably discharged... being handed over to the Bleu government for sentencing... Standing on a platform before an angry mob of Frenchmen as his order for execution was read out.... Resigning himself to his imagined fate, Anderson walked behind White with wide eyes and a blank expression. They followed the Sergeant down the stairs and towards the back of the house, away from the rest of the squad. Scott stopped in front of a shattered window and stood looking out of it for a moment as he allowed the two soldiers to stew. Finally, he turned towards his men . "So... did you boys sleep well last night?" The Sergeant asked in a dangerously calm voice. Anderson was unsure if he should answer, but his half asleep comrade did so for him. "Yesh shur, bed wush really shoft..." He responded as he only half managed to suppress another yawn, "That's good, that's good.... But the rest of us were having quite some trouble getting to sleep... do you know why that is?" Neither soldier responded, though in White's case it was likely because he was unable to focus long enough. "Well you see, There were these two very inconsiderate couples upstairs that just could not stop going at it," The Sergeant gave a dry chuckle. "Do you boys know HOW GODDAMN IRRITATING IT IS TO HAVE TO LISTEN TO THAT FOR HOURS ON FUCKING END?!" The Sergeant had dropped his calm demeanor and began giving the two soldiers a piece of his mind. Private White had quickly lost all traces of grogginess and for the next half hour the farmhouse rang with the irate Sergeant's booming voice. Even their fellow scouts, who had been quietly wishing a fate worse than death upon their comrades, began feeling sympathetic to their plight. ------------------------------------------- Annabel winced as she heard the warband leader's voice. Though she did feel a bit guilty over her Master's current situation, she could not bring herself to regret the previous night. It had all been so wonderful.... The way her Master's hands ran over her body.... How he seemed to know just the right spots.... Annabel mentally shook herself before she was caught up in the memories. Right now she wanted to talk to her sister. With a bright smile on her face, she began opening the door.... And quickly stopped. A cold wave of apprehension had just rolled over her. Wondering what could have caused such a feeling, she quietly peered in through the small opening she had made. As she caught sight of her sister, she immediately knew its source. Now, Annabel knew that her sister did not appear to be the most agreeable of people to those around them, but it was just an act. She was really quite kind and her usual demeanor was a necessity of living amongst the demonic classes. When she was truly angry, as she was now... she was absolutely cold. As her sister had sensed, the normally fiery redhead was indeed in the midst of an ice cold fury. There was however, no outward expression of her anger. Rather, it was the lack of expression that indicated her state. She walked around the room languidly, picking up some of her Master's belongings that had been scattered about in the night. Her features were completely relaxed, her eyes half closed.... One might even say she looked bored... Only her bond-sister knew that this was the same expression she wore in battle... What really worried Annabel though, was when her sister came to a green piece of fabric that lay on the floor. It was ripped in places and she was unsure as to what it could have been, but her sister had an unusual reaction to it. As she picked it up, a small smile spread across her lips... but the expression did not reach her eyes. They remained as cold and emotionless as before. With the cloth in her hands, she walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. Her next actions sent a chill down Annabel's spine. She began quietly singing an old rhyme that Annabel remembered from when they were children. As she continued singing, one of her many hidden blades appeared in her hand. She began slowly sliding it across the green fabric as the rhyme echoed in Annabel's memory. "Master. Master where are you now? Don't you know its to only you I bow? Wait for me, Wait for me I will find you soon. I ask only for this one little boon... Guide me, Guide me as I run For some day, some day We'll be one..." ----------------------------------------------- Anderson and White walked up the stairs in silence. After their "talk" with the Sergeant neither one had much to say. For now, they needed to get ready to march again, and that required getting their gear on. Anderson had nearly hit himself when he realized that several items he had thought were securely in their places, were actually missing. He had run out of that room so fast he hadn't noticed their absence. That meant he had to go back in there with that woman... "Seraphina" came a whisper from the back of his mind. "That woman" he forcefully thought at himself. As they reached the top of the stairs, Anderson almost ran into White. "Why'd you stop?" The Corporal asked White completely ignored his friend's question and just as Anderson was about to ask again, he spoke. "Annabel, What's wrong?" The soldier asked in a concerned voice. Anderson couldn't see around White to determine why he might be worried, but he did wonder at the name he had just used. Didn't he say she was called Anne? He mentally shrugged, she probably just didn't like everyone using that name. "N-Nothing Master, why would anything be wrong?" came the surprised voice of the young blonde. "Well you looked like you had seen a ghost." Annabel gave a light, nervous laugh. "Do not worry Master, there are none here." "...Okay..." White did not sound fully convinced, even a bit confused, but he let the matter go, They needed to get ready quickly, so he walked to the bedroom where all his equipment still lay. Annabel followed him inside and Anderson was left alone out in the hallway. Well, he thought, might as well get it over with. He walked over to the bedroom door and opened. For moment he thought he had heard some kind of music, a strange little song that seemed familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before. As he opened the door, he found Seraphina sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn't notice as her name slipped into his thoughts this time. "Hey...," he said somewhat gruffly," we'll be heading out here in a..." Anderson let his sentence fall off as he really looked at her. She didn't look... unusual.... but something had just set his nerves on edge. He could only describe the feeling as if he were sensing the presence of a knife hovering just a few inches away from between his shoulder blades. Controlling the urge to shiver, he continued on, " We'll be heading out soon, so you should get ready." "I am always ready to follow you, Master," she responded in a silky smooth voice. At her the sound of her voice, Anderson's caution ratcheted up a couple notches. After the things they had said to each other... err... shouted at each other after waking up, she should have been a lot more angry. "Right... well then, I just need to gather up my things, and..." "They are right here, Master," she interrupted him as she pointed next to herself. Anderson looked and for the first time noticed that the extra magazines and other odds and ends he been missing were all neatly arranged on the bed. "Uh, thanks." "It is my pleasure, Master." Anderson stood stock still for a moment as he debated whether or not to collect his things. He needed to get ready, but he really did not want to get any closer to the redhead than he already was. The fact that she kept saying Master after every sentence was creeping him out. Not only that, but she had this strange half smile that hadn't let up since he walked into the room. He couldn't say what, but something about that smile chilled him to the bone. Cautiously, and keeping as much distance between them as possible, he moved over to the bed and began picking up his equipment. He didn't quite know what he expected from her, but she just sat there looking at him and smiling that strange smile. As he secured his gear and some of the cold synthmetal pieces rubbed up against his skin, he realized his torn shirt was nowhere in sight. It was not as if he was going to try to wear what was left of it, but he knew for a fact it should have been laying on the floor near the door. He momentarily considered asking Seraphina if she had seen it, but one look at that unnerving smile and he decided against it. ---------------------------------------- "Any response yet?" "No Sir, I'm getting nothing but static..." A rumbling noise that sounded similar to a growl came from the Sergeant. Their inability to get in contact with the rest of their division was worrying. They had full satellite coverage, as evidenced by the fact that their SquadNet was operational, so why couldn't they get any comms traffic? The only possibility he could think of was too unnerving to consider for long. "Sir, should we try raising one of the fleets? Or maybe even Continental HQ?" Carlos quietly asked, thinking the same thing as the Sergeant. "Negative. At this point Continental is pretty much just another part of Division. If we can't raise one, we sure as hell can't raise the other. As for the fleets.... The days when any of their boys were willing to get their feet dry are long past..." The Sergeant said bitterly. He alluded to the fact that the NAU Naval Forces viewed land combat as "beneath them". The reality was that the Admirals had grown fat and complacent without any formidable opponent on the seas. The only time they saw any danger of being replaced or reprimanded was when they mucked up land operations, so now they did everything in their power to avoid such responsibilities. "What should we do then Sir?" "Follow protocol and march to the Bleu lines," more of the same bitterness sounded in the Sergeant's voice. "...Yes Sir." Sergeant Scott turned around and walked through the doorway into the central living room where his men waited for him. The only ones missing were the men out on perimeter patrol. They had spent so much time with the wounded and comms systems that they wouldn't be able to march nearly as long as he liked before the sun set. But he sure as hell didn't want to spend another day in the same place with such a significant enemy presence nearby. "All right boys, lets get moving," ---------------------------------------------- Private White kept his eyes pointing straight forward and tried not to let on how nervous he was. Between the Sergeant chewing them out and preparing to continue marching, he hadn't really had time to think about last night, but now... that's all he could think about. Every detail, every sensation, was played on a constant loop through his memory. The harder he tried to block out those thoughts, the more incessantly they would call for his attention. And it did not help his nervousness that his squad mates would occasionally shoot him both looks of envy and congratulatory grins. He was thankful for their need to maintain silence, as he knew that was all that was keeping his friends at bay. He had other, more worrying matters to consider though. Specifically, what was he to do about Annabel? Since the girls were found on French soil, the Bleu's would definitely try to claim them. They would take her away from him... Put her on one of those damned "Match Making" programs and secretly sell her off to the richest fat fuck of a politician that wanted her.... Fuck that! He would put a bullet in the head of any filthy fucking son of a bitch that even thought about laying a finger on her, even if he had to kill every goddamn... A small hand lightly grasped the soldier's own, diverting his attention. Surprised, White looked to see who it was and found Annabel looking up at him, eyes filled with concern. For a moment the soldier was afraid that she had somehow read his mind, but quickly tossed out the silly notion. He must have just let his anger show somehow. Smiling weakly, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and turned back to look where they were going. The Private had only been half right though. Annabel might not have known exactly what her Master had been thinking, but she had sensed the sudden surge of anger building inside him. She felt that it was related to her somehow. It was not directed at her... but it felt.... Ahhh, she could not pin it down. It had felt as if a river of fire had momentarily surrounded her. She did not fear it, but it almost seemed as if it were meant to protect her? It troubled her that she could not more accurately gauge her Master's intent without need of her techniques. She supposed such understanding would come with time and familiarity, but would he tolerate her presence if she could not prove herself useful more quickly? No, it did not matter. From what she knew of her Master, he was infinitely kind and full of patience. He would not turn her away. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 08 Sex is a kind of opium for the masses. We are intoxicated yet keenly aware. The solution to every problem is suddenly evident. We blindly leap towards our bliss and our inevitably downfall. "Your ass is so fucking tight." Jim huffed. I replied, "Sorry Sir." Being careful to keep the tone of my voice respectful; without any hint of the apprehension I was feeling. Without warning Jim yanked his cock from my asshole, walking out of the room while muttering that he needing another drink. Abruptly I was very aware of being alone and overwhelmed by feels of abandonment. I caught a glimpse of a disturbing image across the room. A cherub-like, young man was displayed naked and spread-eagle. His hands and feet were tied to a sling made from an old rubber tire. The black, rough texture of the rubber sling a striking contrast to his pale, smooth skin. His lily-white ass cheeks were spread wide exposing his asshole, pink and vulnerable. This desecrated image of a fallen angel suddenly became even more disturbing when I recognized myself reflected in a mirror. Jim returned to the room, rattling the ice around the glass in his drink. Except for his boots and leather gloves, he was now naked having removed his leather chaps and vest. In his youth, he had been handsome and athletic but now his only real appeal was his enormous cock. The phase "Super sized" always came to mind when I saw his massive cock hanging down between his legs. I had named it "The Angry Beast" and I knew every inch of it. I had spend hours on my knees in front of Jim, using my mouth and tongue to worship it. The shaft was thick and powerful, pulsing with veins. The seemingly endless shaft increased in thickness as it extended out. The cock-head was plump and rock-hard. Its corona, the rough ring of callused skin circling the base of his cock-head was defined by sharp edges. It formed a block shape which always reminded me of a battering ram. Countless times "The Angry Beast" had barged it's way to the back of my mouth and then jammed its' way down my throat. Not stopping until my throat was stretched and Jim's balls would be crushed against my chin. However, fucking my throat had not enough for Jim. He often complained about my ass being too tight to fuck, so he began using dildos and butt-plugs to stretch me open. When suddenly he announced, "I've had enough of playing with these toys, your hole is long overdue to be filled with cum. Its time I fucked the hell out of you. Now!" I discovered that dildos had not prepared me for the pounding I would get from his battering ram of a cock. Jim walked over to the sling. He idly stroked his cock as he finished his drink. He looked down at my balls which had been tied up hours ago. He smiled just before pressing the ice, cold glass against my cherry-red balls. The cold glass felt like a red-hot branding iron. Searing pain ripped throughout my body like a chain-saw. Every muscle in my body contracted. My body flew into the air then fell back down into the sling with my heart rocketing around in my chest. Every nerve fibre in my body was inundating my brain with "flight or fight" impulses. Wild thoughts raced through my mind. I struggled again my bonds. I had become a caged animal, full of rage and anger. Jim picked up a bottle of lube and applied a generous layer of lubricant to his hard cock. He placed the head of his cock to my anus then asked, "Do I have your full attention?" Fighting through my anger I answered, "Yes, Sir!" just as he punched the head of his cock through my anus. The density and mass of Jim's cock felt ten times larger when it was squeezed into my tight hole. My body's natural response to being invaded immediately came alive. My body wanted desperately to clamp down and tighten, to push against this massive anal intrusion. I understood Jim's sudden torture of my balls, he wanted my adrenaline flowing. He wanted me charged up, ready for the challenge to fight against my own body's reactions. I knew I needed to focus. My challenge was to relax and breath, despite the increasing pressure and pain in my ass. It felt like an impossible challenge as Jim's hips shifted forward. His huge cock now had the force of his body weight behind it. Making his cock unstoppable. My panic and my pain doubled as my confidence dissolved. I closed my eyes, not wanting to let Jim see the growing panic in my eyes. I took a deep breath and released it. Very aware my anal muscles were being pried open, I quickly sucked in and released another breath. The girth of Jim's shaft would continued to increase to the thickest section, still inches away from entering my ass. I slowly sucked in another breath and released it. Focusing my attention on the sensation of the air rushing in and out of my nostrils. Then using that focus to calm my thoughts. With each breath my body responded. I moved my focus to my strained anal muscles surrounding Jim's cock, letting them softened and relaxed. Jim was entering me slowly. Allowing time for me to adjust to the unnatural sensation of having my asshole stretched open. I was aware of Jim's cock-head moving inside of me. The unmistakable feel of his hardened corona pressing into my tender flesh. I imagined the years of friction, the years of fucking which had caused his corona to grow thick and calloused. Slowly but insistingly Jim pressed his unyielding cock forward. Again and again I tried to focus and breath. But there was no escaping the mounting pressure and pain from my anal ring as the increasing girth of Jim's shaft forced it open. I become conscious of a radical shift in my body. I was being crowded out of my own body as Jim's almighty cock took possession. Overwhelmed by the sensation of being full of cock; I could not imagine another inch of Jim's hard flesh being jammed into me. Full to bursting, nauseous and unexpectedly dripping in sweat; I lost all focus and started to panic. Jim calmly continued to press forward, driving the thickest part of his shaft towards my anus. He was insatiable in his pursuit to turn me into his fuck-hole. It felt to me like a bowling ball was being shoved up my butt-hole. The rising crescendo of agony pierced through me. Every muscle in my body strained against my restraints but there was no release from my fate. Suddenly an immense jolt of pain shot through me as my anus stretched beyond its limit finally released; surrendering all resistance. Sprawled spread-eagle with my arms and legs tied to the sling; there was nothing to stop Jim from plunging his cock deep into me. Nothing to stop him from turning me into his fuck-hole. I heard Jim moan, I felt the sling move, I felt the thrust of his hips. I felt a gush of air expelling from my lungs as my body absorbed the impact of his thrust. Jim's massive cock-head bore down into my flesh like a drill carving out a hole. The rough skin of his corona scrapping like the roughest sandpaper into my flesh. The girth of his shaft forcing the walls of my asshole to expand outwards from the pressure. Too breathless to scream, only a soft noise escaped my lips as Jim's cock seized ownership of my body. Every nerve fibre fired distress signals. Every overstrained muscle cried out. Each second I was certain my body could not be forced to stretched open any further. The next second proved me wrong as Jim crammed another inch of his cock into me. I kept my eyes closed tight as if somehow I could block out the growing mass of flesh invading my body. My ears filled with the deafening sound of my racing heartbeat but there was also another noise. It sounded like thundering hoofbeats at a distance but coming closer. Closer and closer it came as the volume increased until I could feel the pounding coming from inside of me. As Jim pressed deeper into my flesh, the large pulsating veins that marbled his cock pounded out the rhythm of his heart. As plunged his cock deeper into me, his heartbeat reverberated throughout my body. There was no escaping and no stopping the relentless tempo. Another small sound escaped my lips as the rhythm of Jim's heart overtook with my own heartbeat. I felt I hung for a dozen lifetimes, impaled on the sharpest pinnacle of agony. Then sudden release to the sound of one loud thunderclap that echoed through my hollow body. It was the sound of Jim's balls smacking hard against my butt. In that moment everything changed. The battle was over, my struggles behind me. The rhythm of our hearts beating together dissolved the separation between us. My surrender come as a welcome relief. I remember clearly taking a large breath of air into my lungs. On its release, my body sensed a quantum leap forward. Every muscle in my body went limp. Like a virgin deflowered, I would never be the same. My own desire rose like flood waters filling me up and washing away the memory of my suffering. I emerged transformed, now on the inevitable path to becoming Jim's frenzied disciple. Suddenly aware that my eyes had been closed this whole time; I opened my eyes to see Jim's face only inches from my own. He wore a wicked little smile. After weeks of persistence, he had gotten exactly what he wanted. His tyrannical thrusts into my asshole had reached its goal. In the months ahead he would always get whatever he wanted from me. "I've been looking forward to that look on your face, that expression of complete submission." Jim said, pressing his hips forward and jamming his big, hairy balls into my butt-cheeks to emphasize the point. "Ball-deep and long overdue." Jim said as he pulled his hips backwards, only to lunge forward. Hammering his cock without mercy down my hole in one quick powerful jabbing motion. Before I could react, he repeated the brutal thrust a second time and then again for a third time. The first blow of his anal assault knocked the wind out of me. When he unexpected stopped after the third thrust, he left my whole world trembling. That is when "it" first hit me, seizing control of me like the thirst of a lost man in the desert, my dreadful addiction for more. My body demanded that humbling sensation that flooded through me when Jim's powerful cock fucked my asshole. My body cried out to be brutalized. I had become a bottomless pit for Jim's abuse. With no hesitated the words flew out of my mouth, "Please Sir, Don't stop!" Jim smiled down at me with the look of a man pleased with his triumph. It had not been enough for him to abuse and degrade me. Not enough to fuck and possess me. He needed more then my surrender. He needed me bound to him by my own addiction to having my body violated, making me his willing submissive. I watched Jim close his eyes as he drew back his hips, pulling the shaft of his cock from me until only his massive cock-head sat just inside of my anal ring, pressing hard against my prostate. He hesitated for a second before calmly easing every inch of his cock into my hole, filling me up and expanding out my asshole until I was bursting with cock. My entire body responded welcoming him. Slowly he withdrew again, leaving in his cock's absent a profound emptiness that ached to be filled. I longed for Jim's hips to lunge forward and put to an end the agony of the anticipation of his next thrust. I needed him to fill up the vacant space I had become without a cock inside of me. Time after time Jim entered me. Each stroke unhurried, each pause deliberate and controlled. The weight and massiveness of his cock deftly used to push me to the edge of agony before suddenly abandoning me and reducing me to abject worthlessness. Slowly he wore away the last remnants of my body's resistance until I was freed from all the panic and doubts. I was at last able to lay back into the sling, stretching out my limps while welcoming Jim's thrusts into the fuck-hole I had become. I gently rotated my hips around Jim's pillar of an erection, he was still as hard as concrete. Sensing my encouragement, he responded by slowly increasing the rhythm of his stroke. I was aware that each stroke was delivered with great skill and restraint but now intensified in power. Whether he was breaking me in slowly, allowing my own desire to grow to match his or he wished to prolong the event of my first baptism, I did not know. I only knew for certain that these mesmerizing long drawn out strokes were having their desired effect on me. I glanced in the mirror to watch the two of us. I was surprised to see my angelic face unchanged, surprised not to see my new found lust and desire tattooed across my face As Jim's cock withdrew, I gently tightened my butt muscles around his hard cock, as if I did not want it to exit. The effect causes Jim's massive cock-head with its rough corona to press hard into my flesh. I tighten and released my ass muscles with each thrust. Milking Jim's cock, coaxing it to give up what I wanted. The effect on Jim was immediate. He moaned loudly and opened his eyes. He smiled down at me. I thought it was a very wicked little smile, just as everything changed. He lunged forward stabbing his cock into me. He then fucked me with all his strength. Jim's hips repeatedly crashed into my butt as his monstrous cock shot down my fuck-hole. Each strike felt like I was being hammered into dust. Never had I been so utterly overpowered. Yet I was not Jim's victim, I willing submitted to this test of mental and physical endurance to show him that I could withstand the force of his lust. Jim's thrusts soon became erratic. To my amazement, just when I thought he was about to pound his cum into me, he yanked his cock completely out of my ass. I looked up into his face, he was flushed, his teeth clenched. He appeared annoyed, impatient, even angry. He took a step backwards, then positioned the head of his cock just at the entrance to my ass-hole. He grabbing hold of the chains supporting the sling with both hands. Then without warning, he vigorously yanked the sling towards himself, impaling his cock into me. His cock-head punched through my asshole and down my fuck-hole in one long savage blow. The force of the blow knocked the air from my lungs increasing the volume of my scream. Jim ripped one of his leather gloves off then shoved it into my mouth, silencing my scream. He then grabbed hold of the sling again and swung the sling back, away from himself and ripping his cock from my asshole. The sling and I paused for a terrifying moment in mid-air before I was again impaled upon his cock by a second furious fuck-punch. The third punch was followed by a fourth and a fifth; they continuing in a venomous rhythm. Between each punch I hung in mid-air for a brief second, anticipating the next assault. Each pause became as torturous as the punches themselves. Each thrust came as a shock as my fuck-hole burst open with an explosion of hard flesh tearing into it. My helpless body repeatedly swung back and forth as mute and limp as an abused blow-up sex doll. Jim began to be emphasized each fuck-punch with an earthy grunt that come from a dark place within him. It become clear the catalyst behind each cruel thrust was his suppressed emotions. He was thrashed out wave after wave of repressed rage and frustration against the world using my ass. As if intoxicated by the brutality Jim showed no pity. The speed and force of the thrusts increased into a frenzy. Each fuck-punch reverberated throughout my body knocking my senseless. The chains supporting the sling rattled with each powerful blow. The sounds echoing off the walls, filled the room with the chaotic rhythms of our fucking. Jim's flushed face become crimson, I had an awful thought that he might have a stroke or heart attack before he climaxed. A vision flashed through my mind of me trapped; tied and gagged in the sling for days with his lifeless body on top of me; his hard cock It was then that Jim buried his cock deep in my asshole as he began to erupt from the core of his being. His body convulsed, racked by the inevitable agony that burns it's way through your manhood preceding that moment of no return. Every muscle in his body seizing up as his complete awareness focused on the sensation that flooded slowly up, inch by inch his shaft. That sensation that kicks you hard in the gut just before your brain explodes in ecstasy. Empathized by one last final frenzied grunt, the fuse was lit and his load was ready to explode. Jim roared as his engorged cock fired out his first cannon ball of cum. Jim's body trembled as his cock spasmed for a second and then a third time, each time shooting out another ball of cum. They smashed into me splattering the depths of my fuck-hole with his hot sticky liquid bliss. He yanked his hips backwards. His cock slipped briefly from my ass and shot a stream of cum across my balls and ass. Jim shoved his cock back into my hole and again began slamming his cock into me. Each powerful thrust spraying a stream of cum as he repeatedly yelled, "Fuck!" All my self-doubt gave way to optimism and euphoria as the fresh, raw smell of semen filled my nostrils. Jim's cock was soon covered in his own cum. His continued thrusts causing the cum to ooze from my asshole. His balls began making a wet slapping sound as they collided against my ass with each thrust. I lay in the sling feeling the hot liquid fill me as if I had become a deep well. The rhyme of those slapping sounds slowly decreased as the intensity behind Jim's thrusts weakened. He began to moan softly while slowly moving his cum covered cock back and forth inside of me, as if unwilling to leave behind the fireworks of his basaltic eruption. His cock soften slightly, allowing it the slid freely in my vibrating fuck-hole. Jim slowly opened his eyes. He had the look of someone awaking from a dream. I held my breath, feeling the words I was dying to hear him speak on the tip of his tongue. Then he smiled his wicked little smile and said, "I need another drink." He then yanked his cock from me, breaking the spell and leaving profoundly empty. I looked over at the cock that had reshaped my insides. Shiny and wet, covered in cum, I no longer viewed it as "The Great Angry Beast". Jim walked away, leaving me to alone and tied to the sling. I could hear him fixing himself another drink, lighting a cigarette then flopped down in his armchair, in front of the television. Delirious, breathless and on the edge of consciousness, I lay motionless on the altar of Jim's sexual appetite. Physical and mentally demolished by the fury of Jim's lust. My arms and legs drained of all strength, weighted a thousand pounds and hung limp from my bonds. Every breath I took tasted of Jim's leather glove. The memory of his massive cock's thrusts lingered, it felt as if Jim's cock was still embedded deep within me. My body trembled as a series of muscular contractions erupted like earthquakes deep inside me. They released sexual tremors, rippling like waves outward and triggering every nerve in my body to ignite. Spasms of ecstasy radiated out through me like lightning. Again and again my frenzied body was racked by these spasms, each one bringing me to the pinnacle of orgasm without ejaculating. My stiff dick throbbed with a gnawing demand for release. My balls burned with the ache of flesh too long bound by leather bonds. My body's twitching caused the chains supporting the sling to clatter like bells announcing the zenith of each spasm. For a time the world dropped away. I became only the vibrations of my body revving like an overheated engine on the edge of exploding. In the background the remnants of my consciousness was noting the agony and the ecstasy whipping through my body and the creeping blistering heat. The sweat that covered my body vaporized, burning away my old veneer. The cool air caressed my new skin sending cold shivers creeping across my flesh. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 08 The last dying gasp of my past life snapped my consciousness into life. I awoke as if my life to that point had been a confused dream. My strange, new body sent bursts of sensations flooding to my brain. Liberated from uncertainty, unimpeded by boundaries, I felt complete. The emptiness that had plagued my life was now brimming with cum. I noticed a moth fluttering around a bare light bulb in the ceiling. The moth's attraction to the light so strong it was unable to fly away. I identified with the moth, the two of us addicted to the brilliance of our tormentors. Each of us singed by the heat beyond repair but unable to pull ourselves away to safety. Again and again we would return to our addictions. It would only be a matter of time before the moth and I would be consumed by the heat. Our burnt bodies would plummet from the heights of fiery bliss to the cold, hard earth. Drunk on a euphoric high, I lay there until slowly the tremors stopped and my body's rhythms settled back to normal. Exhaustion and nauseous I lay spread-eagle in the sling aware of Jim's cum growing cold. I wished for the euphoria to return, to last forever. I would not get my wish, not even Jim's appetite for sexual domination would last forever. Over the next two year I was a cum-dump for a countless number of Jim's loads. In a misguided effort to prove my commitment to him, I would submit my body and psyche to the worst indignities. I was gently pushed passed any definition of myself, passed the furthest definition of normal sexuality into the depraved sinkhole that was Jim's heartless imagination. Jim was the catalyst that changed my life. By the time I turned twenty-two, the corruption of my innocents was complete. I was freed from judgement, liberated from the illusion of love and void of sexual boundaries. I acquiesced to performing humiliating sexual acts as proof of Jim's complete domination. An unknown catalyst drove Jim's uncontrollable obsessions with the seduction of beauty. What circumstances drove him to justify such gross humiliation? Why did he pursued such an unattainable fantasy as complete domination? My life today has become nothing more than acting a role, playing awkwardly that I am still alive. The self-consciousness that tormented my youth is now replaced by a humbling acquiesce. I toil away day to day, cherishing the memoirs of my youth as Jim's submissive. As I sit down to document those years, I am reminded of the hours I spent on my knees worshipping the potency of Jim's huge cock. I again feel the heavy weight of my utter mortification after being treated as merely a cum-bucket by Jim and his buddies. I recall my slavish addiction to semen. I ache to relive the hours of bone crushing humiliation and again experience the exhilaration of feeling profoundly alive. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 08 ... But how could she bear that gentle look in his eyes if she were unable serve him properly? She would prove herself before him. She would make herself valuable, support his efforts, and demonstrate for all the world to see that she was indeed worthy of her Master. With new found confidence and determination, the young woman walked proudly beside the soldier. ---------------------------------------------------------- In the distance, two dark figures stood on a hill. "Do you see them Julius?" one asked around a slowly burning cigar. The pair would have caught anyone's attention normally. The one with the cigar was dressed in a finely tailored suit. A black tie made of rare, natural silk hinting at wealth from before The War. The figure next to him stood a full head taller, his stooped posture hiding his true height. This one was not dressed in finery, but was dressed in something akin to leather armor from ancient times. The leather was a strange coloration though. A red so dark that one would be hard put to say that it was not indeed black. Certainly, they would have caught anyone's attention normally, but they had taken great pains to be certain that no unwanted eyes would see them. The figure in the black armor took a moment to answer, its glittering black eyes seeming to follow something in the distance. Slowly its mouth opened... all the way back to its jaw, and a low hissing sound issued forth. Nodding his head as if he somehow understood, the man in the suit dropped his cigar and ground it into the dirt under a well polished shoe. "Good." He turned and spoke to a man farther down the hill. "Order the soldiers to eliminate them. They are to leave no survivors this time, or they shall be... disciplined..." The stooped figure's mouth opened. This time the hiss sounded almost like laughter as it licked long, pointed teeth. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 09 Ch.9 "It is at the point of crisis that a man shows his true worth" unknown "Contact! Incoming fire, right side!" "Tango down!" The shouts were barely discernible over the din of weapons fire as Sergeant Scott and his men fended off another attack. The militiamen they fought were inexperienced and made for easy targets, but their numbers and persistence were more than making up for it. As soon as it looked clear the Sergeant gave a hand signal for his men to continue moving. The sun was still a good distance from the horizon, so they could not have been at this long, but it felt like days. No sooner had they begun running than a deafening roar shook the earth and dirt started raining down around them. Those damn mortars would begin targeting them as soon as their new position was found. Scott did not know what kind of piece of shit equipment the enemy was using, but he was beyond grateful for their ineffectiveness. The explosions would always take a few minutes to start up and they were always a good distance off target. Hell, they were proving to be more of a danger to their own men than his. Regardless, they had to keep moving. He could not understand how anyplace could have so little cover. Hadn't northern France been famous for centuries old hedgerows? They sure as hell weren't anywhere to be seen now. He would have given anything for the forests of Central America at that moment. The Sergeant ground his teeth as they came in sight of the farmhouse they had left behind only hours ago. It was inevitable, The enemy forces would keep popping up in any other direction they tried to take. The only reason they had managed to come back this way was because they were able to slip around a particularly oblivious group of enemy militia. If those men had been the enemy's professional soldiers instead, the scouts would have been surrounded and making their last stand right about now. Scott was angry at himself for not anticipating something like this. They had spent an entire night and half of a day sitting in that farmhouse, and yet he had stupidly thought... goddamn it, he didn't know what he had thought. They had gotten into firefights, taken captives, and yet they had not seen any kind of pursuit. No armed group in the world would have just let that lie, especially not one this well organized. Chiding himself on what was already done and in the past was no help though. He needed to keep everyone alive here and now. The Sergeant glanced at the house, evaluating and dismissing it quickly. If they tried to hold any position they would be overwhelmed eventually, not to mention that those mortars would tear through the wooden structure like tissue paper. They could not run forever though, especially with the numbers of their wounded increasing. They had already abandoned the captives to keep what little speed they could. Goddamn it, he needed something to work with. The forest was well out of their range and everything around them was plains and low hills. He... Wait a moment. A memory gave the sergeant pause. Before we reached the farmhouse, Cameron and Reichert reported a military instillation... Calling a sudden halt, the Sergeant turned and sought out the two soldiers. "Cameron, Reichert! Up here, now!" The two soldiers ran up to him, a note of question evident on their features. "That instillation you reported yesterday, where was it?" Realization dawned on their faces, but one's expression was quickly replaced by apprehension before he caught himself. The Sergeant did not notice the change though, so intent was he on the possibility of salvation. -------------------------------------------- Corporal Anderson and PFC Jonathan White were well experienced soldiers. They were not fully trained due to the NAU's need for large amounts of manpower as quickly as possible, but after countless battles they had learned their trade well. And that trade was death. There was no sugar coating it. In a world that that had stared into the abyss, only to step away at the last moment, death was something that everyone understood and dealt with on a daily basis. Only a small number were insulated.... Only a small number would not shed tears over the body of a loved one as the light in their eyes faded to nothingness... Only a few would not know the sight of a man's blood flowing out between his fingers, as he desperately hoped he could somehow stem the flow of his life's essence... By no stretch of the imagination were the two soldiers amongst those privileged few, but they had sworn in their hearts that they would protect those who were. It had been their mission as soldiers of the North American Union to defend their homeland. To keep the horrors of the world at bay so that such innocence still had a place to bloom... And they had kept that promise... In an army where the average life expectancy of a soldier was measured in weeks, they had kept to their oath for far longer than anyone could rightfully expect of them. But now... it seemed that they would be fulfilling that vow for the last time... They had no illusions. Their end would not be glorious.... They would not make some grand last stand... and their remains would not be found surrounded by the legions of enemies that they had felled. Instead, they would die one by one. Gunned down as they kept moving, trying to protect the two young ladies until the last of them had fallen.... But that was as it should be. There were no cowards among them. Any who valued their lives more than their duty would have slipped away long ago. It was a simple matter to just... disappear... with the scouts' armor. One of their number had already been forced to do just that. They would all have stayed given the choice, but one of them had to report back, to tell the others of the enemy that hid amongst the forests and ruins. With tears in his eyes and heaviness in his heart he had given them his final goodbye. One last salute in honor of those that would soon fall... Certainly, there were no cowards among them... They had all known that this day would come... and they chose now to face it... not as bastions of defiance or seekers of glory... Simply as soldiers. Though, each did harbor their own regrets. For White, it was that he would never get that little house in Montana to share with his beautiful Annabel. They would never stay up all night together to watch the sun rise above the Great Plains.... He could never introduce her to his family... or watch on as his mother taught her all her recipes... He would never come home to find his sweet young bride waiting for him... And certainly, they would never share a smile as they sat around the fireplace and told their children the story of how they first met... For Anderson, it was how he had spurned Seraphina. That night... she had given herself body and soul to him. Now he believed he somewhat understood her nature, though it was far too late to take back the words he had spoken... She was a caring soul, he could see that from how she always stood near her sister, making sure her presence warned away any but White or himself. That is likely why she seemed so cold, to protect herself... Any person that gives their heart to another, risks having it handed back in pieces... just as he had done to her. After that morning she had closed herself off. That smile she wore... it was as cold and lifeless as any mask he had ever seen. But the truth was in her eyes. They had been full of fire and defiance before, but now they were empty and emotionless... The eyes of one who felt nothing. He wanted to apologize... If necessary, spend his remaining days trying to mend the heart he had broken... but he did not have days left. Despite the tendrils of despair that threatened to overwhelm them, the two soldiers knew that there was one last gift they could still give the young women.... Another chance at life. The scouts did not have long to live, but they would easily accept that if it meant the girls could continue to do so. All they had to do was keep going. Sooner or later they would come on a spot where the girls could hide. After that it was a simple matter to keep the enemy's attention and lead them away. The women would then be free to continue on to the Bleu lines. It was not a perfect plan, but it was their best chance. They ignored the heaviness in their heart and were filled with a grim determination. They may not survive, but the girls would. ---------------------------------------------- Damn it. Corporal Anderson turned his face away from the others as a grimace of pain flashed across it. He looked down at a wound in his side. A lucky piece of shrapnel had managed to strike in the small space between the plates of his armor and lodge itself in him. Thankfully it was on the side facing away from the others so no one else had noticed the dark stain spreading around it. He had no idea when he had received the wound. With the adrenaline rushing through him he had not even felt it before. He glanced quickly at his implant's health readout. For the moment it looked about normal. That was good, the passive scans were always slow on the uptake. As long as he did not perform an active scan, it would not alert anyone else to his condition. It just had to stay quiet for a little while longer, until they reached the bunker. From what they could gather, the enemy's main pursuit force was right behind them and would overtake them soon. There were not going to be any other chances. If the structure was unusable or they couldn't reach it, then it was over. As Anderson swept his rifle across his sector, there was a slight hitch in his movement. As he realized why that was, his urgency increased. His hands had begun to feel cold, and there was a slight numbness in his fingers. Shit, shit, shit. I just need a little more time, he desperately thought. How much farther away was it? Shouldn't they already be... "There it is Sir." The whispered call was easily heard by the group of silent soldiers. Finally! They had at long last reached their destination. Sergeant Scott quickly began issuing orders, and as the rest of the squad formed a defensive perimeter, Anderson, White, and the women walked over to where the Sergeant stood. Scott had been debating his course of action for a long time. Unlike the two more pessimistic soldiers standing before him, he originally had every intention of getting them all out alive. Now he was not nearly so sure that was possible. Looking at the entrance to the structure it was obvious that it was meant to be more of a fallout shelter than a military instillation. It was built into the side of a hill, with a single long corridor running down into the earth. It would be impossible to defend the entrance. He should have asked his men for more detailed information on what they had seen. Just another mistake to add on to the pile of those he had already made... "What do you think boys? Beautiful piece of shit isn't she?" he bitterly joked "...Sir, the enemy is going to be here soon. We need to move quickly..." replied Anderson. Nodding his head, the Sergeant asked, "Any suggestions?" The soldiers were flabbergasted. The Staff Sergeant was always decisive in battle, always having his next move planned out well in advance For him to ask such a thing... at such a crucial time... was just... inconceivable. Recovering from their shock, the two scouts looked at each other. Anderson made a slight motion towards the girls and White nodded his head. They were both in agreement. "...Sir, we should hide the girls here and try to lead the enemy force away... It'll give them a chance to get to the Bleu lines..." Behind them, the two soldiers hear a gasp before Annabel began speaking indignantly. "Master! Surely you do not believe we would leave you to face your enemies alone?!" The scouts kept their eyes on the Sergeant, not daring to look back at the women. Scott considered their words. It was not ideal by any means, but what other options did they have? At least this way some would survive. Activating his headset, he spoke to all his men. "We don't have much time so I'm going to keep this simple. We are going to use the shelter to hide the ladies. After that we are going to lead the enemy away. You have all performed above and beyond the call... So now I give you this choice. You can stay on with us, or you can try to escape. Any of you who choose to go will not have it held against you. Like I said... you have all performed your duty beyond anything that can be expected of any soldier. You will be officially ordered to retreat and so can not in anyway be disciplined or otherwise punished when you get back to the Division. As for those of you who stay... I think you know what that means. The enemy has shown that they will give no quarter... and none will be expected this day. Some may survive, but it is not a hope you should cling too. Make your decisions now gentlemen, the enemy will not wait." The Sergeant paused, waiting for his men to decide. Not a single soldier moved from where they stood... A small smile spread across the Sergeant's face. "Gentlemen... It has truly been an honor to serve alongside you." Looking at the two soldiers in front of him, the Sergeant gave a slight nod of his head. With that, Anderson and White turned towards the girls. They had known that this would be the most difficult part, but they had not known just how difficult it would be. Tears streaming from her eyes, Annabel clung to White, pleading with him not to leave them behind. White's resolve was already cracking, but he had to protect her at all costs... As for Seraphina, her smile was long since gone, and her once empty eyes were filled with fear and worry. She did not plead with words, but the look she gave him almost broke Anderson's heart. After all that had happened she still did not want him to leave... Unfortunately there was no time to convince them that this was the only choice they had left. Rather than arguing, they picked up the girls and carried them to the shelter's entrance. Setting them back down, they spoke their final words to them. "Annabel, my love, please understand. If we could live a thousand years, I would devote each and every day to making you happy. I would give you anything you wanted and do anything you asked of me. But I do not have a thousand years, and I can only give you one gift. Please do not cry, I know it hurts now, but the pain will fade in time and you will fall in love again." White quieted her as she tried to deny his words. "This chance is all I can give you and I give it with all my heart. All I ask is that you allow yourself to be happy." "Seraphina... I know I don't even deserve to speak your name right now, but listen. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you and I'm sorry that I cannot take back those words. I'm sorry for what I could have done and didn't and I'm sorry for any pain I have caused you... but most of all I am sorry for the days that will never be. It would be cowardly of me to ask for your forgiveness now, but please do not let my mistakes taint your heart. You will find someone that will understand your true worth someday, and shouldn't allow a dead man's words to ruin it for you. Take good care of your sister, as you always do. She'll need you to be there for her more than ever after this day." They had said all they could say and Private White moved to the door's control panel. Quickly typing in the necessary commands, he set the shelter to seal itself until midnight. They would have the best chance to escape under the cover of darkness. As they began shutting the door, Annabel tried once more plead with her Master, but he only gave her a gentle smile and shook his head. Beside her, Seraphina had stood quietly, not quite knowing what to do. That was when she noticed the blood staining the Corporal's side. She finally understood. The two soldiers were not just leaving them behind... They were going to protect them... with their very lives. Tear's streaming down her cheeks, she finally cried out just as the door closed, "Master! Do not leave me!" Anderson's heart almost shattered at those words. But they had no choice. Tears welling up in his eyes he turned away from the door that his love had disappeared behind. "Sir, We are ready." Sergeant Scott could only nod his head. What words were there that he could speak to the two soldiers? They had just had to leave the women they loved behind so they could march to their own deaths. Activating his headset once more, he spoke to hi men, "Its time. We'll be heading in the direction of the forest. We'll make it look like we're trying to run to safety..." Looking at White and Anderson, he felt the need to say something... anything. His words might not be worth much but at least... "Contact!" The alert was repeated all around them as their comrades weapon's burst to life. Horror dawned on the faces of the three men that stood before the shelter's door. If they fell here, surely the enemy would break in, looking for any survivors that might have hidden there. But they were surrounded, they had nowhere to run, no chance to lead their foes away. "We'll have to break through..." Anderson's words were barely heard above the din of battle, but the others knew that he was right. If their plan were to have any chance of succeeding, they would have to fight their way through. Looking around, they tried to estimate how many opponents they would have to face. Too many. The thinnest point in the enemy line looked to be made up of three or four squads at least. Many of them were still marching up though, or the scouts would already have been dead. But they had to do it. For the sake of the two women hidden in the shelter, they had to fight through. Understanding and agreement passed between the three quickly. "We're going to have to charge through! Everyone form up and follow us!" the Sergeant shouted through his headset. One and all, those that were still able to, followed the Sergeant straight into the heart of the enemy. Their weapons blazed around them and many fell before their desperate charge... but it would be a lie to say that their foes parted before them.... To say that the enemy could not stand before the courage and ferocity of the North Americans. The line held. As the scouts crashed into it, many of their number already lying on the field behind them, the battle devolved into a melee. Rifles were fired at point blank range, blood and flesh painting the uniforms of the two sides the same color. Anything that was at hand was used. Spent weapons became clubs, and knives that had only ever been used for cutting meals, suddenly found themselves imbedded in human flesh. Anderson had lost sight of the others. He found himself trying to fend off multiple attackers in hand to hand combat. With his proximity to their friends, none of his opponents had dared to use their firearms. He knew he would not last more than a few seconds though. He was surrounded and exhausted. Each of his movements seemed to grow slower and slower. Attacks which he could easily have countered before were increasingly difficult to simply dodge. And the wound in his side... at every hit, every jarring motion, a fresh wave of pain would wash over him. No, he would certainly not last much longer. If he could just get lucky though and find a gap between them he could... A loud sound echoed near him, the report of a rifle being fired. Who is the idiot shooting into a crowd? Anderson wondered in annoyance. Wait. Why are they all staring at me? The attacks had stopped and his enemies simply stood around him, staring and waiting for something. Confused, Anderson looked down at the point on his chest that they all seemed to be focused on. Shattered Boundaries Ch. 09 Oh. Blood seeped out over his body armor as he felt what little strength he had remaining flowing out of him. Disbelieving, he tried to take a step forward. His legs did not seem to want to follow his commands though as he faltered mid stride and staggered, quickly falling to his knees. He kneeled where he fell, trying to bring his hand up to his sidearm. The numbness he had begun feeling before had spread though. Now he was not even sure if his arms still existed, let alone of his hands felt cold. He looked down at his right hand, willing it to move... but it wouldn't. he could not even detect a twitch. Well... that's not good... Spying movement out of the corner of his eye, the Corporal looked up to find one of the enemy approaching. He was a hulking brute, easily taller than those around him and covered in bulging muscle. His face was a sight though. Scars crisscrossed over many of his features, deforming the triumphant smirk that was plastered on it. "Ugly shun of a beesh arencha?" Anderson indistinctly muttered. It seemed his jaw muscles weren't cooperating with him either. Seeming to understand the intent of the scout's slurred speech, anger flitted across the tall man's features. Quickly controlling himself, the look of anger was replaced by a sneer as the brute spoke something in French. Anderson could not understand a word of it, but the ragtag collection of militiamen around them seemed to find it funny. Pulling a hidden pistol out of the folds of his coat, the tall men spoke in broken English. "Reedy die Amereekan skum?" Mentally laughing at the big man for his cliche words, Anderson gave a crooked smile. "Do jur wursh" Again anger flickered across the man's features and Anderson gave another mental chuckle. It seemed he had wanted Anderson to beg for his life. Well too bad for him, he thought. Holding the pistol to Anderson's forehead, the man spoke one last time. "Nite Nite Amereekan..." But the sound of the shot never came. Instead the air was filled with a horrendous screeching noise. The sound was so loud that the men around him, including his would be executioner, were all desperately covering their ears in pain. The only other time Anderson had heard such a noise was during a coastal assault when one of the landing craft had gone off course. The force of the waves around it had driven it into an outcropping of large rocks. The sound of metal being twisted and wrenched apart has just as horrifying as what he heard now. In fact, it sounded almost exactly the same. But that made no sense, there were no large metal structures anywhere near this area. Anything like that would have been cannibalized to make something else a long time ago. The strain of thought was too much though and he just let it go. All he wanted to do now was lay down and rest. Blinking, he looked up at the men around him standing at a strange angle. Huh, guess I'm already laying down. Wonder when that happened. Somewhere deep down, he understood that his body was shutting down, but he couldn't bring himself to care. After all who liked the smell of burning flesh? It was disgusting and he was glad he would not have to deal with it much longer. Neither did he like all the screaming. These militia guys had really loud, high pitched screams. It grated on his nerves even more than the metal noise, though he was glad that at least that one had stopped. Seriously though, how much longer were they going to keep screaming? Couldn't they see that he just wanted to go to sleep? Some people were really inconsiderate... So far gone was Anderson, that he did not even notice when the screaming stopped. Though he did begin hearing a voice that seemed eerily familiar. It was singing something softly. Though, it was too far away for him to understand what it was saying. But it was so very familiar . Why couldn't he remember where he had heard it? Hmmm... it sounded like it was getting closer. Maybe if he waited he could hear it well enough to remember. The seconds ticked by, seeming like an eternity for the dying soldier, but he had been correct. The voice was indeed getting closer, and he was finally able to make out part of what it was singing. "Master. Master where are you now? Don't you know its to only you I bow? Wait for me, Wait for me I will find you soon. I ask only for this one little boon... Guide me, Guide me as I run For some day, some day We'll be one..." It was the strangest thing. He could swear he had heard it many times before, but at the same time, none of the words seemed familiar. How odd. He had to hand it to the girl, she had a really nice voice. Very lyrical with just a touch of natural sultriness. If his heart wasn't already spoken for, he wouldn't have minded hearing it more often. But he doubted his love would approve. She'd probably give him another one of those cold smiles that sent a shiver down his spine... the bad kind of shiver... Not the kind he had gotten last night... She really was amazing wasn't she? The sound of the voice soon lifted him out of his thoughts though. It seemed that its owner had finally reached him as the song ended. Looking up he smiled. She really was wonderful wasn't she? Beautiful red hair that stood out so splendidly against her delicate, pale skin... And those eyes... a forest green you could just get lost in if you weren't careful... Yes she was absolute perfection, from the tip of her tail to the top of her head... He wondered if her wings worked though. Oh it wasn't necessary. They complemented her splendidly.... made her look like a demonic goddess... they didn't need to actually work. As she leaned down and he could see her face more clearly, a shiver ran down his spine. Darn it, that's what I get. I wonder how she knew I was thinking of that girl with the pretty voice? The last thing Anderson would remember was a feeling of confusion as the voice he had thought belonged to another women came out from between his love's cruelly smiling lips. "I Found you, Master." Shattered Boundaries Ch. 10 Authors Note: This chapter would probably have been better labeled as 9.5 rather than 10. The majority of the chapter takes place at the same time as the battle, but a few days have actually passed since then. Remember to Vote and Comment, and thank you for reading. --------------------------------------- Chapter 10: "Heh, who needs angels and demons. I've got women and enemies and that's enough for me." Unknown NAU soldier *Drip* *Drip* "...know if he will survive." "But the way she is holding him..." "... what she is. For all we know she is doing that to... ...What about the other one?" "..." "...saw what happened. Be careful." "Yes, Sir." *Drip* *Drip* "...Sister, they are troubled.... Please, you must..." "..." "...he cannot bear to look at me..." *Sob* *Drip* *Drip* "...LONG ENOUGH..." "Don't! If you wake...." "...Master, Please!" "...enough!... think you could do anyway?!" "...Rodriquez and Lee!" "You know as well as I do...." "...goddamned demon lover... -------------------------------------------------- "Well, I did say that there were to be no survivors," the finely dressed man chuckled at his own cleverness. Sitting before a lightly crackling fire in his study, he looked far more at home than when he had been issuing orders on the hilltop. Though, the dark figure that stood at his side would doubtless always appear out of place. "How soon until the men arrive?" he spoke to a thin, shaky looking man nearby. "A little over a day sire..." Sighing, the finely dressed man asked in a dangerously calm tone, "Is that what Christophe said then? A little over a day? Those exact words?" Wringing his hands in consternation, the frightened attendant realized his mistake. "No Sire, my apologies. He said that they would arrive in twenty-six hours..." "I see... Now Jacques, I am feeling a bit concerned. Do you know why that is?" "... No Sire, I.. I do not know." "It is because one of my employees, for just a moment, thought he knew best... Oh it was nothing dangerous, just a little artistic license... changing a few words here and there. The same meaning was kept of course... just a few words... But you see, that is how it starts. First it's a few words... but soon he will be deciding what reports I should hear, who I should speak with, and which of my orders should be followed... So my dear Jacques, I do hope you can see why I feel so concerned." "P-please, Sire! It was a slip of the tongue... I would never presume...! Please believe me Sire...." The attendant was nearly in tears as he begged. "Do not worry my dear Jacques, I am a man that believes in forgiveness. After all, what kind of barbaric monster would I be if I punished my staff for every little mistake..." "Thank you! Thank you Sire! You are truly a great and kind hearted lord!" "Yes, a proper gentlemen would never dream of punishing his loyal attendants... We have subordinates for that... Julius." The finely dressed man turned to the fireplace before him and watched as the flames flickered. The screams behind him went ignored as he considered his next course of action. The men that had been lost were of little consequence. Soldiers were easy to replace. Just offer food and clothing and new volunteers would come running. What interested him was how the assault force had been so completely eradicated that not a single survivor had come crawling back. Perhaps there was a new... business partner... to be contracted from among that group of North Americans. He brought a glass full of a dark liquid up to his lips and smiled as he savored it. Death, power, and vintage wine.... It was simply not possible to enjoy life more fully. -------------------------------------------------- *Drip* *Drip* "... is he doing?" "I do not know.... Sister is very protective of him..." "Yes, she is, isn't she ...Will you be needing anything Annabel? Have you eaten today?" "Yes Master. I am doing quite well..." *Drip* *Drip* Disjointed conversations. That was all he could hear. That was all he was aware of. He knew that there were many things missing, yet he was unsure of what they were. It was not just the words that were missing though; there were meanings he could not grasp. The words he could hear... he knew that they should hold more meaning for him. Something in him spoke of relief, but relief of what? It was nothing but frustration. He wished for a voice so that he could speak to those others, but he did not know how to form the words. He had no way to make his presence known, to make those beings aware that he could understand them. It had gone on for so long now. The sounds were all he had. He knew that there should be more, but he could not remember what else there was. Like memories of a forgotten dream, images would come to him with a feather light touch, making their presence known but not offering up their secrets. All he could do was wait. Though, what he waited for he did not know. *Drip* *Drip* "...days! How long do you think they will wait before they come looking?!" "They are in no condition to be moved, or do you suggest we abandon them here?!" "Then we make stretchers! There are plenty of materials lying around. The fact is, if we stay here, it won't matter if anyone gets left behind, we'll all die!" The voices were much louder today, and now he could understand more than just fragmented pieces. Perhaps his time of waiting was nearly over.... He could only hope. He was grateful for the increased understanding, but he wished that the volume had not increased as well. It created a deplorable sensation...pain, if he remembered correctly... He wanted to stop it, or at the very least soothe it somewhat. He instinctively tried to do just that... and the voices stopped. They did not fade; they simply came to a sudden and complete stop. How strange, they had never done that before. But even more interestingly, something had happened to him. It was as if he had grown, or perhaps he had he had not been aware of his entirety before and now he knew another piece of himself. But the sensation had disappeared as quickly as it had come. He wanted to experience it again, but was not sure how. He tried to mimic his previous desire to soothe the place that had held the unpleasant sensation. It did not work at first, but he tried again... and then there was a new noise. He should know this sound. It was a... it was called... a gasp. Yes, that was right. He was not sure what it meant though. Eh, it did not matter, he wanted to try gaining that sensation one more time. He suspected it could be created at will. Around him the voices started again, but they were easily quieted by one that spoke from somewhere nearby. "Master has awakened." ------------------------------------------------- Insane. That was the only word that Private Jonathan White could use to describe the events he had witnessed. They should have all died. There was nothing else to it. None of them should have survived that charge into the enemy lines.... And many of them had not. But for all that, there were those that still lived. Hahaha, or perhaps we are all dead and this is our own personal Hell. He would have that thought many times, and he almost wanted to believe it. But he could not. Each and every one of his senses told him that he was still on the Earth that he had known for his entire life. Though, even that statement was incorrect. He might still be alive, but this was not the world he knew. In the world he knew, demons and angels were not real. They were a story passed down for generations that only the most devout of the faithful still believed in. And even for those that believed, they dwelled only in Heaven and Hell... They were not real... yet he had seen them with his own eyes. In fact, one sat only a few feet away. She would occasionally glance at him, a forlorn look in her eyes. But he could not comfort her... He could not even bear to meet her gaze... It tore at him. He wanted to go to her side. He wanted to soothe her worries and hold her as he had done before. But he was afraid. She was... something else; A being entirely beyond his own existence. Before that day when they should have died, she seemed so small and frail. He had wanted to protect her, to give her everything she could ever wish for, and so much more... But he had seen an entirely different creature on that field. Somewhere deep inside, his feelings for her were still the same. But they were overshadowed by fear. Fear of what he had seen. Fear of what she was. On that day... He had been near exhaustion. The adrenaline that had kept him going far beyond the limits he should have been able to endure was fast running out. The pain that it had been suppressing until then was beginning to rise and take its place. He did not know the extent of his own wounds, but he knew that not all the blood covering him came from his enemies. Around him, his comrades had been falling one by one. He had long since lost sight of Anderson and only the Sergeant still stood with him. He had no time to wonder at their fates though, it was likely that they had all perished, but if only one or two of them could break through, they might still lead the force away. Remembering this thought later on, the private could only wonder at himself. An entire assault force would not go chasing after a single survivor. But at the time, all he understood was his mission and he would carry it out no matter what. He could not remember all that had transpired. He could not recall the faces of his enemies nor how many he might have fought. It was all blur of motion as he tried to press through the line. Indeed, he could not remember much... until they appeared... Enough reinforced steel to withstand a bomb blast... and they tore through as if it were paper... The first inkling he had that something strange was happening was the sound of metal being torn and twisted. It was a horrendous, unnatural sound that stopped the fighting as all the combatants desperately covered their ears. But that was nothing compared to the sights he was about to witness. Soon the noise stopped... but terror seemed to still grip their enemies. He could not fathom what they were experiencing as the mob of militia and soldiers rolled about in the dirt, their screams full of fear. A few tried desperately to crawl away, but many others lay curled up on the ground with their eyes shut tight. Those that were not screaming were simply whimpering, a pathetic whine that could barely be heard over the others. That is when they appeared... creatures of legend that had no place on this earth. But it seemed the legends were wrong... not only had they appeared, but they now stood united in a fury that left him chilled to his very soul. Some would say that the one in black was the more terrifying of the two. Blood covered her clawed hands and more would be spilled wherever she walked... but it was the one in white that the young soldier feared the most. She walked unerringly towards him. Those unlucky enough to have her pass nearby ceased their cries of fear... He did not understand how she did it, but death followed her as surely as it did her sister. As she drew nearer the fear in him grew, but he could not make himself turn away. He could only look on as the women he loved left a trail of corpses in her wake. There was no indication of malice. In fact, she did not spare the pitiful humans around her a glance. She only walked forward, intent on her path. White could not understand then, why those around her ceased their movement, why their cries went silent... Soon she was close enough that he could better make out her features... and his heart tightened. Those blue eyes that he had fallen in love with were now cold and uncaring. Her once radiant smile was nowhere to be seen.... She now walked with a regal grace, while the white, feathered wings behind her proclaimed her to be one of the messengers of heaven. But there was no warmth in her... White could only think that an angel of judgment had descended upon the earth. He cannot say what he expected once she had reached him... but what happened was certainly not it. Once this goddess of death finally stood before him... the look of cold fury left her, and she kneeled. "What is your bidding, Master?" she spoke in an emotionless tone. For a moment the soldier's fear was forgotten. In its place, all he could feel was a deep sadness. He did not know what had happened to his Annabel, but for all that it looked like her, this creature was not the woman he loved. But he could not stand to see someone with her appearance kneeling before him, so he spoke. "Stand." She followed his words exactly, standing but keeping her head bowed and her hands clasped before her. White felt another tug at his heart. She was like a doll... beautiful, but lifeless. He wondered what he was to do now. His mind was frozen, grasping for something familiar, something that he could understand. Did his orders still apply? Did the Annabel he knew still even exist? So caught up was he in his turmoil that he forgot where he stood and those that still surrounded him. Sergeant Scott stood a short distance away, having seen the women and watched what was transpiring between the young private and the creature with the appearance of Anne. Typically quick to act, Scott could only stand there woodenly. With his confidence and mental state already shaken from the past events, he was close to the breaking point and was only holding himself together by a simple hope... that hope being that everything around him was just a dream... His plans had all gone astray, he had lead the men he was meant to protect to their deaths, and now something that looked like an angel was calling one of his surviving soldiers "Master". It had to be a dream, a terrible nightmare that he would soon wake from and do his utmost to forget. There was simply no other option, no other possibility... The two soldiers stood unmoving. Both attempting to grapple with the turn of events and questioning their own sanity. And so they did not see their enemy stirring. Upon reaching her Master, Annabel's fury had subsided and her effect upon the men had dissipated with her loss of interest. Now some of those closest to the three were attempting to stand on shaky legs. They considered cutting their losses and running away, but they did not know what the source of their terror had been and so there was a possibility that it was now gone. Either way, they knew very well what their fates were to be if they did not complete their mission, and so some of them decided that it was best to finish off the North Americans. The first to raise his rifle was an older man. He had survived the hardships of life in this new era and avoided the punishments that had cost the lives of so many others. He had a healthy instinct to survive and he knew that killing the oblivious soldiers quickly was the best way to do so. Unfortunately, he could not have anticipated the fate his actions would befall him. With rifle raised and sights aligned, he could have ended it all there... but he caught her gaze and at that moment he understood... she would never have allowed it... The being that stood before him never moved an inch... but White was sure that it was her doing. He heard the clatter and thumps of weapons and bodies falling around him. He assumed that the Frenchmen had tried to stand back up, but now they all quietly lay on the ground. Dead. He knew that they were dead. The odd angles their limbs rested at, the emptiness of their eyes, and the unnerving stillness of their bodies left no doubt about that. Closing his eyes, he willed away what he had seen, the reality he could not accept. But even there he found no escape. The world around him was as quiet as the bodies on the ground. For a moment he thought he heard a woman singing in the distance, but he dismissed it. In a place that had been crowded with soldiers and ringing with the sounds of battle not minutes ago... there was nothing. And he knew the cause. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes and once more looked down at the creature that bore the visage of his love. Even now she still stood in the same position he had left her. She's very obedient. The observation was a stray thought that passed through his mind. It filled the emptiness in his thoughts and spared him for just a moment longer before he had to consider what she was or what he was to do. "Look at me," he whispered to the silent angel. She lifted her head and brought her eyes up to meet his. Silently he brought up his hand and cupped her cheek. Soft and smooth. The inane thoughts continued. He was operating on impulse now, his mind beginning to shut itself down in a desperate bid to protect him. He gazed adoringly at the face of the woman he loved and an absentminded smile spread across his lips. And it was that smile that finally evoked a response in the angel. Her Master had never smiled like that and it worried her. In those cold blue eyes a spark of concern shown. Acting against her previous exacting obedience, she brought up her own hand to cover her Master's. The touch unintentionally brought White partway back from the stupor he had begun falling in. Refocusing his eyes on the woman before him, he noticed the look of concern she gave him. It was one he was intimately familiar with. The same look he saw when her sister and Anderson would start fighting... the same look she gave him when he would obsessively worry over something... "Annabel..." She blinked, and in the same cute voice he could never forget she asked, "Yes, Mas...Jonathan?" It was her! It was really her! Private White burst out laughing and hugged her tightly to himself. "Do you know how long ago I told you to call me that? But you kept calling me master anyway," he said while continuing to shake with laughter. "I'm sorry, Master," the confused Annabel mumbled into his chest. "See? There you go again. It's Jonathan, just Jonathan," He responded, finally starting to calm down She mumbled something he could not quite understand due to how tightly he was holding her, but Private White had never felt so relieved in his life. He thought he had lost his love to some legendary being of death, but she was right there in his arms. It was a shame that the feeling could not have lasted longer... -------------------------------------------------- "Master, your warbrother is strong enough to speak with you now..." Annabel's soft voice brought White back from his memories. "Good... Your sister won't try to attack us again will she?" He asked concerned about the last time someone had tried to get near Anderson. "No, that would displease her master greatly..." White could hear the pause after every sentence. He knew what she hoped for him to say, but he could not bring himself to say it... not yet. Giving Annabel a quick nod, he stood up. Ignoring the look of sadness in her eyes he began walking to the main room where Anderson was. He still could not believe it though. When that woman had brought Anderson in to the shelter, everyone had sworn he was dead. Nobody could have survived the wounds he had seen.... But she had brought him in and taken over a corner of the main room. For three days she had lain next to him, guarding him from anyone that came too close. Hell, she had nearly killed Reichert. White was still not sure what he had been thinking when he tried that. They already had enough dead as it was and did not need anymore. Taking a deep breath, White opened the door to the main room. It was time for the man loved by an angel to talk to the man loved by a demon.