[Mad Gerald]

MIA’s of the 3rd Gulf war Part 16

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



As she stood there staring at the lingerie, Diana was unable to resist the temptation to touch the flimsy lingerie surrounding her. Starved of such feminine things for so long, she could not help herself. She had to feel their softness as well as feast her eyes on their bright color. Roughly, the guard shook his head and pulled her away from the lingerie, gesturing impatiently at a line of hangers at the back of each row. Each hanger was covered by a white sheet giving it a vaguely ghostly appearance. Diana stepped closer. To her surprise, she saw that each of the white shapes bore a name and a rank. By their number, she guessed that there was one here for each of the female POW’s. An empty feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach as she searched through the line of hangers for one with her name. She found it easily enough- Deans, Diana, Lieutenant colonel, US Air Force was crudely printed on the sheet covering it. Despite her attempt to control her emotions, Diana’s hands trembled a little as she lifted the sheet. Underneath was an Air Force blue formal mess jacket complete with the appropriate rank, lieutenant colonel. That was all. There was no sign of the rest of the uniform. Diana looked over the jacket closely. It was just what it looked like -a short mess jacket. It bore no manufacturer‘s label. She saw with some relief that it was not her own uniform. That was no doubt still back in Texas in storage. From the lack of a label and the odd lining, Diana guessed that it must have been made locally for the Brotherhood. Briefly, Diana wondered how the supposedly puritanical Brotherhood explained their need for a garment like this to the tailor who made it. Or to the man who had sold them all that frilly lingerie. Diana picked up another of the sheet covered hangers. This one was marked “ Lieutenant Paula Corry USN“. In it, she found the Navy’s summer weight white blouse with the proper badge of rank for a lieutenant. No skirt or pants, just the blouse. Oddly, the blouse had the front pinned back so that it could not be buttoned. In another bundle marked LT Kelly Hulton USN, Diana found a dark blue navy class “A” jacket, brass buttons and all, which also had the lapels pinned back so that the garment could not be buttoned . Puzzled, Diana looked in another six bundles. Aside from two bundles at the end with no names on them, each of which contained a one piece olive drab flight suit , Diana found only the upper half, the uniform jacket or blouse, from a women’s class “A” or dress uniform in each bundle. . There were no uniform pants or skirts in the collection, just jackets and blouses. Every service was represented here in the Brotherhood’s collection. There was the green of the Army ’s class “A“ jacket , the lightweight, white summer blouse as well as the heavier dark blue jacket of the Navy, a braid encrusted white mess jacket for the Marines, as well as the sky blue jackets of the Air Force class “A”’ uniform and Diana’s shorter, more formal, blue Mess jacket.

It took Diana a few minutes to make sense of all this. Then it suddenly became shockingly clear. The jacket, was to be what she wore tonight, to be her costume when she whored herself out to the Jihadees. This prospect angered Diana and sent a chill down her spine at the same time. She knew that a mess jacket would barely reach her waist. Worn alone, it would leave her sex and ass totally exposed. and, since it was made to be open in front, would leave her breasts exposed as well. She might as well be naked as to wear the jacket. In fact, she would have preferred plain nudity. Worn alone, the jacket was a cruel, if clever, parody of a uniform, exposing more than it concealed. It was clearly a costume meant to humiliate the woman wearing it as much as to arouse the man for whom she wore it. As she thought over the collection of uniform jackets she had found here, an odd thought struck her. For an organization as unmilitary as the Brotherhood, they had a very snobbish sense of rank in the way they used the formal mess dress jackets for field grade officers while keeping the more common class “A” uniform for the junior officers and enlisted women.

Looking down with disgust at what was obviously to be her costume for the evening, Diana began to feel an even greater dread of performing tonight. But, as Diana remained herself, she had no choice. Grimly, she picked up the white bundle bearing her name and held it to her naked chest as she turned to look through the array of lingerie. She figured that anything she wore wouldn’t stay on long , but she could not resist the opportunity of at least feeling the silky lingerie against her skin, even if for only a short while. Having had no experience in stripping, Diana forced herself to approach the problem analytically. After some quick calculations about the logistics of undressing, Diana discarded the idea of even wearing a bra. She did select a tiny pair of white thong panties, panties calculated to contrast well with the darker color of the mess jacket. To complete her outfit, Diana chose a garter belt of the same color as the thong and a set of the whorishly black fish net stockings. A pair of black “fuck-me” high heels completed the outfit.

To her relief, Diana was allowed to shower before she put on her new clothes. She stood under the tepid water for a long time, subconsciously trying to delay the moment when she donned her stripper‘s outfit. Repeatedly she soaped and scrubbed her strong, feminine body. The watching guard gave her a safety razor. Carefully she used it to shave her legs and pubic area, leaving her body smooth and hairless. When she could delay no longer, Diana turned off the shower, dried herself, and reluctantly began to dress. First she put on the white garter belt. Then she slipped on the tiny, shiny white thong panties. To her disgust, the thong simply disappeared between her ass cheeks. But, at least, it covered her sex however inadequately. Then she put on the black fish net stockings. Finally, she donned the blue jacket. The jacket was cut high, living up to its nickname of the“ bumfreezer”. In front, its bottom barely reached her belly button. Feeling behind her with her hands, Diana found that the jacket failed to cover any portion of her rounded ass cheeks. The mess jacket was designed to be worn with a ruffled white shirt under the open jacket and a floor length dark blue skirt. But worn alone, it left her as good as nude but for the scanty coverage of her throng panties. The jacket could not even be buttoned closed; it was made to be worn open with the lapels joined by a short chain.. Well, at least they did give her was a chain, thought Diana. In fact, the chain looked as if it were of real gold, about 8 inches long. It must have cost a fortune. Diana found it odd that the Brotherhood would spend so much on a costume for a POW. Shrugging her shoulders, Diana hooked the chain to the jacket and pulled, only to find that no matter how tightly she pulled on it, the jacket lapels remained a good six inches apart. As a result, the lapels barely reached her nipples. In fact, they literally bisected the half dollar size aureoles surrounding her thick nipples, allowing her nipples to pop in and out of the jacket each time she moved. If the chain was unhooked, the jacket’s lapels fell back to the outsides of her breasts, showcasing them rather than offering any covering at all. Diana reluctantly realized that once the chain was unhooked and thong was gone, she would be as good as nude. Her breasts, her freshly shaven pussy, and her ass would be all exposed to the Jihadees‘ eager eyes- and hands. Despite the number of times she had been raped, the thought made Diana blush. somehow it was more humiliating this way. As she looked at herself in the mirror, Diana’s sense of dread grew. Her legs felt weak; her stomach churned. Nevertheless, Diana grimly forced herself to finish dressing, carefully combing out her still damp brunette hair until it lay a thick wedge shape. that almost covered her ears and just touched the top of the jacket’s collar in back.

After she was dressed, Diana was escorted back to the small room on the fourth floor where she found the Commander waiting for her. He watched silently as Diana put on light make-up and a little perfume. Once she had finished, he examined her, holding her chin in one hand as he turned her face first one way and then another. “ No enough. Use more.” was his only comment. Sullenly, Diana obeyed, applying more lipstick and more mascara. Again he examined her face, and again he ordered “more’. By the time he was satisfied, Diana knew that she must look like a cheap whore, which she realized was his intent. He pointed to a bottle of bright red fingernail polish. Carefully, Diana applied a thick coat to her nails. As it dried, he had Diana unhook the chain and hold the jacket open. She instinctively assumed the position as he picked up a large bottle of perfume and sprayed it again and again on her naked torso and between her spread legs until Diana was enveloped in a cloud of perfume. When he was finally done, Diana wrinkled her nose in distaste. Great, she thought; now I smell as well as look like a cheap whore. Satisfied, the Commander nodded and motioned to Diana to follow him back into the big room. He spoke a few words to Diana’s guard. The man left the room. A moment later, the lights dimmed except for a spot light centered on the space in front of each booth. Music began to come out of the hidden speakers in the room. It was a tune Diana vaguely remembered hearing the younger airman play on their tape decks, something by Britney Spears. Seating himself at a booth, the Commander told her:

“ Now dance for me as you will for the men tonight. Entice me, show me what a shameless whore you are. Show me how eager you are to feel a man’s cock. Convince me that you are going to carry out your end of our little agreement.“

Her face blushing a bright red, Diana awkwardly began to dance. The lurid lyrics made her feel so self-conscious. Even worse was the way mirror in back of the booth reflected her own image back at her. Diana had to watch herself as she danced. It humiliated her to think that the heavily made up slut turning and swaying her half nude body in that reflection was her.

“ You are showing me nothing, Whore! This will not do. Show me how you entice a man! Seduce me! Seduce me of your free will, Whore , or see the other women suffer for your foolish pride! Strip yourself and offer your body to me like the infidel slut that you are. And do not force me to keep telling you what you must do!“

Diana blushed again as she nodded. She took a deep breath and began again. An exceptional if untrained dancer, Diana drew on that now. She forced herself to let her body go, to allow it to move with the music. Hips swaying, a false smile fixed on her face, she moved seductively in the spotlight. At first it was enough that she simply danced slowly, seductively, in front of the seated man,. He watched her intently, his eyes fixed on Diana’s nipples as they moved teasingly in and out of the cover of the jacket as he body moved with the music. But when he began to look impatient, Diana knew she had to commit herself. Then, slowly, Diana reached down with one hand to the golden chain holding the jacket half closed. She found the clasp and unhooked it, letting the jacket’s own weight pull it away from her breasts, revealing the heavy globes to him as they swayed with her dance motions, the nipples erect from rubbing against the soft lining of the jacket. Diana brought her hands up to cup her large breasts, blatantly offering them to the seated man. She caught each nipple between her thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze and pull on the erect nipple as she swayed to the music. Then, with her lips still fixed in a smile, she dropped her hands and bent forward at the waist to let him see her heavy breasts sway as they hung free. Diana’s mind was functioning on two levels now. On the emotional level she was deeply ashamed of what she was doing. This display repelled her. Her hands shook as she held out her breasts to him. There were tears in her eyes. But on another, purely instinctive level, Diana forced herself to function, shutting out her pride and letting her body react to the music. She let her body move seductively as she forced her lips to smile. Diana struggled to put aside her inhibitions. By sheer force of will, she made herself play the role she had to play- the role of a stripper.

As Diana watched herself in the mirror, it seemed as if she was watching someone else dancing. It did not seem possible to her that she was that woman in the mirror. That it was her smiling and shaking her breasts at that loathsome man like some slut, some cheap whore. It could not be her holding her jacket open as she danced, in front of him crudely displaying her breasts as she moved her hips in a parody of intercourse. Nor could it be her spreading her legs to offer him a glimpse of her shaven cunt. Diana ran her tongue over her full red lips. She was ashamed of what she was doing, and at the same time, fascinated by it. Fascinated, she watched herself in the mirror, watched as she slowly stripped herself of clothes, pride, and now inhabitations,

The Commander watched as well, amazed at the change which had come over the arrogant American officer. He watched as she moved to the music, watched her offering her body to him. His cock hardened. He licked his dry lips and stared at Diana’s breasts as she offered them to him. He stared hungrily at the way her breasts moved, at the silver piercing in one breast shining in the harsh light as they swayed. He watched intently as Diana turned away and bent over, exposing her round taunt ass cheeks. Legs spread, she pulled the tiny thong down her stocking clad legs and graceful stepped out of them, leaving herself nude but for the skimpy garter belt holding up the slutty black stockings and her open jacket. He held out a hand to her. Diana moved gracefully- if reluctantly- nearer and held out the crumpled thong in her hand. It felt warm and almost weightless in his hand as his fist closed around it. He held it up to his face, the intoxicating aroma of her cunt filling his nostrils as he continued to watch Diana move in time with the music.

The Commander was pleased at how completely Diana appeared to have made the transition from defiant POW to shameless whore. Nevertheless, he remained cautious, mindful of the times he had thought he had broken her will with rape and torture only to see Diana return to her defiance. He could not stop himself from rubbing his hand over his hardening cock. Aware that he was alone with Diana, he opened his pants and extracted his erect cock. He slowly stroked it as he watched Diana move before him in the spotlight. His attention centered on her heavy breasts, moving seductively as Diana swayed with the music. When she turned away from him and bent over at the waist and grabbed her taunt ass cheeks with her hands, the red finger nails vivid against her white skin. He could see the wrinkled little “O” of her asshole open for him as she pulled on her ass cheeks. His cock ached now. He could not just watch any longer. He had to feel her. He moved to he edge of the booth and spread his legs at a 45 degree angle. He held his erect cock in one hand, its head pointing almost straight up. His voice was unnaturally deep and raspy as he ordered.

“ Dance on this , you Whore!”

For a second, Diana did not understand what he wanted. Then she knew. Reluctantly, she danced closer to him until they were almost touching. He could feel the warmth from her slightly sweaty body now. The overpowering scent of her perfume enveloped him. His cock throbbed in response.

Cringing inwardly but maintaining her outward smile, Diana straddled his spread legs and began to move against him. She pressed her breasts against his face as she slowly lowered her body, moving in time with the music, dancing her way down onto his cock. Diana bit her lip as she felt the heat of his cock head pressing against her bare cunt lips. She straddled him, all her weight on her bent legs, her hands braced against her knees in an attempt to take some of the strain of her awkward position. She felt him run his cock head up and down those soft lips, searching for the warmth of her opening. Diana could feel his warm breath on her breasts as well as his cock pressing against her. She let out a slight gasp as the head of his cock found her cunt hole and entered her. She braced herself, expecting a brutal thrust, expecting it to be like the other times he had raped her. but nothing came. Then she heard his hoarse whisper.

“ “ Now , you whore. Fuck yourself on my cock!”

Diana had to struggle to keep her balance as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock an inch at a time. At the same time, she kept moving her upper body in time with the music, her breasts pressing against him as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock. Diana kept her hands braced against her knees while the Commander’s hands moved freely under her open mess jacket. One hand took a breast, weighing and squeezing it, then pulling roughly on the silver oak leaf- the insignia of rank that once had been such a source of pride to Diana- to painfully stretch the nipple it pierced . The other had reached around to her strong back. It ran down the sweat slick skin to her ass cheeks, searching for and then finding her still sore asshole. He thrust one finger inside her ass as she struggled to lower herself onto his cock. Diana had to bite her lip again to keep from crying out as his finger invaded her. Instead she forced herself to concentrate on capturing and milking his cock. Her strong muscles gripped his cock, pulling him deeper into her as she lowered herself onto it at he same time. Diana was giving the man she hated the fucking of his life. It was the fucking of her life as well. As much as she hated him, and as much as she detested what he was forcing her to do, Diana could not deny that she was taking pleasure from this as well. The cock filling her cunt felt so good after the brutality of her numerous rapes. Her need for satisfaction overcame her revulsion and shame at what she was doing.

Enjoy MG