[Mad Gerald]

A New Beginning
by Soprano84 Edited and added to by Mad Gerald

Sorry for the wait everyone Enjoy! MG

MIA’s of the 3rd Gulf war Part 24

Story By Mad Gerald, Conwic & Soprano84

The content of this story is of sexual nature and does involve blackmail, and non-consensual sex.

ANYONE WHO MAY BE OFFENDED BY THIS STUFF PLEASE DO NOT READ. YOU WERE WARNED OK!

All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to anyone either alive or dead is purely coincidental.

This story is intended for ADULTS only.
IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 PLEASE DO NOT READ.

LEGAL STUFF:

The attached story may be shared with others and freely posted in newsgroups and on the Internet, provided no money is charged to read this document, or if it is I am offered free entrance to that site in payment and no part of this document, including the notices and attached fiction are modified, and the original author is given proper credit for their work.


This story is fantasy! (not real, Fantasy OK) and involves the gang rape of a woman. It is very nc. If you are under 18 or offended by such material please do not read.

FANTASY IS FANTASY! RAPE IS REAL AND HURTS PEOPLE AND DESTROYS LIVES KEEP THAT STRAIGHT IN YOUR HEAD!!

Copyright Mad Gerald 2014.

Our Brave Allies

This takes place after Whalid leaves the stage in part 20!

Whalid grunted mightily as he continued to drive the “Spear of Islam” deep into the Asian pussy before him, the scar ridges on his 12 inch cock adding additional torment to United States Army Private Becky Nguyen. In the near week since her initiation into the world of the rape camp, the huge Whalid had used and abused her every day, leaving no hole unfucked or unfilled with his cum.
It was late morning at the moment; her first fuck of the day after a night where she was actually allowed to sleep unmolested (although a vibrator was still secured to her throbbing clit, left there just in case Whalid wanted to lay back and listen to her moans) although he’d started off with whipping her as a pick-me-up.

At this moment she was suspended from the ceiling of Whalid’s personal quarters; she’d not seen outside the room since that first awful day. Her ankles were pulled behind her back, secured to her wrists, which were bound together. The harness that she hung from was attached to a single hook in the ceiling and supported her under her shoulders, mid-back, and upper legs, just under her ass. She could be suspended either face up or face down. For this fucking, Whalid had hung her face up, so her head fell backwards in agony, her back arched by the restraints, forcing her tits out.

Allah had gifted Whalid with a true virgin, and he had enjoyed Nguyen’s tight, tanned, pristine, young body from the start. She was 18 years old, stood 5' 4" and only weighed 90 lbs or so. Although her mother was Vietnamese, her father was an American of Mediterranean descent, so she had a very exotic look to her. She had firm, good sized tits and a round ass. Compared to his 6' 6" frame and 200+ lbs of muscle she was as a bug next to him. The vast size difference inflamed him; he was able to dominate her simply by looking at her. His 12 inch cock was a massive and potent weapon against any of the women, but against Nguyen’s slight frame it resembled a baseball bat.

He felt himself building to climax and – after a few more brutal slams into Becky’s abused snatch – withdrew his mighty tool and spun his toy around. Her nipples were pinched in strong clamps connected with a short length of chain. He gripped the chain and yanked up hard. Becky cried out in new pain, a cry that was stifled when Whalid jammed his stiff member partially in her mouth and jacked himself until he came. He didn’t feel his pole was far enough in her mouth, so he again he gave pain to her tits and forced more of his spurting prick into her quivering mouth when she cried out, shooting load after massive load of cum into the gullet of the American whore, staying in her mouth as he felt her attempt to swallow his seed when she tried to breathe around him.

He left his cock in her mouth until the pulsations of his climax died down then slowly withdrew. The little cum slut was sobbing and whatever cum she did not swallowed either shot upwards from her sobbing - only to land pleasingly back on her face - or dribbled out of her mouth and back toward her forehead, anointing her face with his mark and mixing with her near-constant tears. He held her head still and looked at her intently until she opened her eyes and looked fearfully at him, whereupon he stood up and slapped her with great force across her face, fore and backhand before speaking to her in his somewhat adequate English. “That for not swallow all cum, American bitch!” he hissed in her ear. He unclamped her right nipple and pinched down with all his might on the abused nub. Her anguished scream was more than satisfying to his ears. “Next time, you swallow all...or I not be so nice,” he growled and yanked the tit hard again before replacing the clamp, releasing the spring so it snapped painfully shut instead of a more gentle - if painful - pressure.

Whalid wiped his softening prick all over the little cunt’s face and retired to a comfortable chair just next to her. He sat down and grabbed a cat-o-nine-tails, then reached out with a massive foot, placed it against her head and pushed so her body slowly rotated before him. He sat back and periodically gave her a lashing or two as body parts passed him...a tit, her cunt, he even landed one stroke just on the back side of her head.
As he whipped the slut while waiting to recover, Whalid thought back to the day she’d come to the camp...



“You wanted to see me, Commander?” Whalid said as he entered the office. His leader sat behind his desk, reviewing some papers in a folder, a small bock next to it.

“Yes, Whalid...have a seat please.” Whalid placed himself in the comfortable chair on the opposite side of the desk and looked around briefly; unusual to be in the office and NOT see a POW being assaulted.

The Commander put down the page he was reading, turned the folder around, placed the book on top of it, and pushed it toward Whalid. “Read this and give me your opinions.”

The huge man had no problem reading English...speaking it was more of a problem, but he could communicate effectively with the captive women when necessary. The file belonged to a new arrival...Private Becky Nguyen, US Army, captured in a raid on a small convoy a few days prior. There was much information in the file, and some of it not military information. As he read, Whalid shook his head in disbelief.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” the Commander commented as Whalid handed the file back. “She even came with her personnel file.”

“Where is she now?” Whalid asked, his hands clenching in anticipation. The Commander flicked a switch and one of the holding cells on the top floor came into view. The monitor showed Nguyen - still in full uniform, save for her boots and socks - curled up in a fetal position, cuffed hands over her ears one at a time as she tried to block out the sounds of rape coming from the cells on either side of her; the Commander had made a point of assigning two Brothers to each prisoner in the cells next to her, with orders to make the Americans scream loudly. Since the pens had just been wired for sound, Whalid could hear the muffled screams. Nguyen shook and cried...tears staining the floor.
“She’s not been touched yet?” Whalid asked hopefully.

“Not at all,” the Commander said, muting the audio. “Possibly a little groping on capture, but since she came here, nothing. From what I have read, she’s the most virgin bitch either of us is ever likely to come across. It appears, based on this diary,” he said, laying his hand on the book. “That until she took her first shower in basic training, she’d never seen a naked man OR woman besides herself. I doubt she even knows what a man’s cock looks like, let alone how to please it. Allah has given us a most precious gift...a young, American, virgin, whore soldier. Her deflowering shall be a matter of great honor. That honor, Whalid, goes to you...for a full week in recognition of your impressive work here.” Whalid’s chest puffed out with pride.

“I won’t let you down, Sir,” he said respectfully.

“You never do, Brother. Now then, let us discuss how we will process Private Nguyen into our little world. I think we need to add something to the in-processing program...something to give these whores hope...then snatch it away, thus heightening the loss of their detestable former lives...some tangible symbol that can be destroyed or even used against them...” The Commander reached under the desk. “Something like this, perhaps.” He showed the package to Whalid, who grinned evilly.

***

It was two hours later when the door to Becky’s cell slammed open and she was hauled roughly to her feet, her hands cuffed behind her back, gagged and blindfolded. She tried to keep up with the men hauling her down the corridor, almost at a run although she was fully expecting to be run to a wall. They came to a stop and she was picked up and slung over someone’s shoulder. The descent down the stairs was not pleasant, as the guards made every effort to make each step of the 5 story journey as rough and jarring as possible. By the time she was put on her feet again, Becky’s stomach was in pain.

She heard a door open and was shoved in, the door latching behind her. She stood still for long moments, frantically trying to get her fast breathing under control and trying to figure where she was.

She jumped and squealed when an unexpected hand gently laid itself on her shoulder, then slid down to one of her elbows and guided her to sit on a stool...one just low enough to destroy any shred of dignity to the one sitting on it. Her blindfold was removed and she saw -- when her eyes cleared – that she was in a large well-appointed office occupied by two men...one fairly tall and slender, and the other a walking wall who scared her just on looks alone. The slender man was sitting at an oversized desk with large eye bolts screwed into the sides. He ignored her, even as the larger man’s eyes remained locked on her body, reviewing papers in a folder. She recognized the book on the desk and shuddered, too frightened to even utter a single word. He pulled a single sheet out and began reading from it.

“Private Becky Nguyen,” he began. “File clerk, United States Army...place of birth, San Luis Obispo, California, just turned 18 only a month ago...a child indeed.” He addressed her directly. “I see from your diary here,” he remarked, laying his hand on the small book. “That your parents were well off – wealthy even by American standards – that you were at best an average student in school...rebellious, headstrong, determined to go your own way or not at all. A spoiled little brat, really. You also listed your hopes and dreams for the future...a good home, husband, a few children...and a good career.” He leaned forward and locked his agate hard eyes on hers. “All the men here had hopes and dreams, Private Nguyen. But they were destroyed by American foreign policy and bombs, a number of which were dropped on our people by some of the very women who are held within these walls...and who are paying a very heavy price for their folly. We now have a new dream here...one that we men are living out. For you whores, however...it’s a nightmare, and one that I am quite happy to visit upon you.”

He flipped her diary to a specific page. “It appears that the Army was filling some need in you...on almost every page are small drawing of patriotic symbols...primarily the American flag. Your writings here show a great deal of pride in serving your country..almost uncomfortable in it’s intensity.” He closed the book at looked at her pointedly. “You made a really bad choice by joining your military at such a young age, you know. Instead of serving American interests, you will now serve ours. Your career as a file clerk is over...allow me to show you your NEW career.”

He reached over and pressed a buzzer on the intercom. “Bring her in!”

The office door opened and a struggling woman was hauled in by two burly guards. She was tall, blonde with a big mane of disheveled hair and by far the largest boobs Becky had ever seen in her short life, even hidden in a shirt.

The blonde was also utterly naked, bruised, and weak. Becky began to shake in fear, small kitten like mews coming from her gagged mouth.

“Staff Sergeant Roberta Beaumont, late of the United States Marines,” the Commander said by way of introduction. “She is here to demonstrate your duties here in our little corner of the world.” He motioned for the guards to continue, and they slammed Roberta face up on the desk, lashing her wrists and ankles to the eye bolts in the desk. When they were done, she lay spread eagled on the desk, her massive tits thrust skyward.

Roberts turned her head and looked up and back sadly at the new girl, their faces only a foot apart...aware of the horrors she would soon be experiencing...ones she’d already endured for months.

One of the guards began rubbing his hands over Roberta’s body from neck to knee, taking great pains to fondle the gigantic breasts that rose like twin mountains before him, as well as masturbating the blonde. His long practice at this task soon caused Roberta’s body to respond, and her back arched, pushing her breasts higher and higher. Becky continued to shake and cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Without warning, the guard slapped one of the huge tits hard, and Roberta screamed in pain, which only goaded the guard further.

“We’ve discovered,” the Commander said from directly behind Becky; she hadn’t even noticed him moving. He felt his breath on her ear. “That Sgt. Beaumont’s tits are extremely sensitive to pain, which makes our task so much more enjoyable. Frankly, I don’t know HOW she ever made it through Basic Training with those things hanging from her ribs, but all of us here are certainly glad she did.”

Now both guards lines up on either side of Roberta, each holding a handle, to which was attached a thick leather strap about 15 inches long, weighted at the ends with strips of heavier leather. They swung them experimentally right past the blonde’s fear-filled face, then proceeded to methodically whip her titanic tits. At regular intervals came the loud, heavy *SMACK* followed by an equally loud cry of extreme pain as Becky watched the blonde’s tits turn red from punishment. The guards didn’t just concentrate on her nipples...the sheer size of the mounds before them allowed for a wide range of targets, and Becky soon lost count of how many times the other woman had been hit on the nipples, sides of her tits, underneath, on her stomach, even her face when she didn’t appear to cry loud enough.

After an eternity, the guards stopped and Becky thought they were through tormenting the poor woman. Through the blur of her tears, however, Becky saw one of the guards pass his tool to the Commander, who strode directly in front of Roberta, motioned for the guards to unbind her legs and spread them painfully wide apart. Roberta knew what was coming and shook her head, crying in denial and pleading for mercy, but there was none, as the Commander proceed to rain down strike after strike on her pussy as hard as he could. Roberta screamed even louder through her gag than before, and her arched back never relaxed, as the pain was almost constant. If her cries slacked off, a guard would reach back and yank on a nipple.

The Commander gave one final vicious hit on the blonde’s raw and abused cunt, backed away and gave his men an order. They undid Roberta’s restraints and threw her down on the floor. Roberta was far too weak to even move on her own, so the men positioned her so her ass faced Becky. The terrified young girl therefore had the best seat in the house as the Commander gave her his back, dropped his pants, and sunk his hard member into Roberta’s ass in one pain-filled plunge.

Again Roberta Beaumont screamed, as her ass was violated by men who had excellent reason to hate American women. As the Commander sawed his prick in and out of her asshole, one of the guards hauled her head up by the hair while the other continuously slapped her face hard, not stopping until the Commander pulled his cock out, threw her on her back, and shot his load all over her face and upper body.

He and the Brothers packed themselves away, one of the guards kicking Robert’s right tit just for the hell of it.

“Most satisfying, Brothers,” the Commander said pleasantly, as if he’d not just spend half an hour watching and raping a helpless woman. “You share a room with two other brothers, correct? Why don’t you take the Sergeant back to your quarters. You and your roommates are excused from all other duties until tomorrow morning to further attend to this whore.” The Brothers nodded and hauled Roberta to her feet before dragging her bodily out of the office. Becky was so scared she was hyperventilating. That could not be her fate!!

“Ahhh...I see the dawn of realization on your face,” the Commander said pleasantly. “And now that you have witnessed, it is time you participated. Whalid here has been given the honor of taking from you everything that you were as an American soldier, and turning you into what you truly are...a beautiful American whore-slut, fit only for servicing the Brotherhood with your body.”

He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a plastic garbage bag. “We found this with your unit when you were captured,” he said as he unceremoniously dumped the tri-colored strips of cloth in her lap. “It WAS an American flag, but it now will serve as a reminder of your bondage. 11 of the 13 stripes have been sews together to form a long leash so you can be led around like the bitch you are (he tied the red and white cloth around her neck securely, handing the end to Whalid, who wrapped it tightly in his fist). And the blue field with stars has also been cut into strips and sewn together.” He undid her hands and brought them forward; Becky was so shocked by the brutality visited on Roberta that she didn’t even try to resist.

The Commander deliberately and firmly bound Becky’s hands together with the flag remnants. “Let the blue field of your homeland’s flag symbolize the pain you will receive from the Brotherhood...the stars the Brothers who will fuck you night and day, and use your young body incessantly.” He removed her gag and shoved a wad of the last white stripe in her mouth, tying the ends around her head to re-gag her. “This white stripe shall represent the cum you will have sprayed on your body, in your cunt, up your ass, and down your throat...you will swallow gallons of cum by the time you die. Lastly,” he pronounced, holding up the remaining red stripe – the last vestige of her flag - in front of her eyes. “Let this red strip stand for your soon-to-be-lost virginity and your status as a fuck toy – available for ANY brother who desires you.” He tied the stripe around her eyes, and Becky could see nothing; not the hands that bound her, nor the men who hated her. She felt a huge hand take her elbow and draw her to her feet. A couple of boot steps, and a man’s hot breath on her face. She stood stock still in the dreadful calm, the silence broken only by her rapid breathing and berating of her heart.

“I shall truly enjoy raping your every hole, you stupid little whore, as will every other man here. You may take her away Whalid.”

A tug on the flag leash and Becky was forced to follow. She shuffled along the corridor carefully, bracing herself for a bump into a wall, but it never came. After a short trip, she was stopped and tossed over the shoulder of the man she’d been given to – as if she was a thing of no value. What she didn’t realize was that she had immense value to Whalid. His standing among the Brotherhood – already impressive due to his sexual prowess – would increase even more, and he spent the entire climb up the staircase thinking of varied ways to debase and enjoy the girl in his arms.

When they reached the floor that held the Brothers’ quarters, Becky was put on her feet and once again forced to follow Whalid blindly. She heard male voices – calling out lewdly to her – and suddenly a female voice – another woman being assaulted. Actually, the rooms were soundproofed so Brothers could have their fun and nor disturb the sleep of their fellows. The pair of Brothers who’d been shoving an active electric cattle prod up USAF 1st Lt. Karen Carter’s ass had opened the door upon hearing a knock, and looked appreciatively at Whalid’s prize, licking their lips in anticipation.

They heard a soft thunk behind them and realized that Carter had managed to force the prod out of her abused asshole and was panting with exertion. They closed the door and returned to their labors, one of them grabbing a whip. Even had she been standing outside the door, Becky would not have heard Carter’s screams as the two men whipped her pussy.

She heard another door open and was shoved inside, losing her balance and falling. Whalid closed the door and took a long look at the cunt before him, crying, sobbing, vulnerable in the extreme, and ripe for the taking..

He hauled her to her feet by the leash and let her to the middle of the spacious room. He took a pair of handcuffs, undid the flag binding, cuffed his prize’s hands in front of her, and drew down a chain hanging from a hook in the ceiling. He pulled her hands up over her head, then removed her blindfold. This he put with the blue wrist bindings away on the other side of the room; he wanted to keep them safe until it was time to use her own symbols to bind her again.

Becky was truly in a panic now...the man who held her captive stood over a foot taller than her and had shown no particular gentleness. Now she could see him striding toward her with a knife in his hand, and she began to scream a loudly as she could through the gag, thrashing around in a frantic attempt to get free. This was stopped by a firm backhanded slap to the fac from Whalid – his hand nearly the size of her head. He flashed the knife in her face, and her eyes widened in horror, so scared that she stopped breathing.
Whalid walked behind her and pulled both her uniform and T-shirts up to expose her bra, and brought the knife close.

To be continued...