Spoils of War

[pervipete]

I thought I had already posted this..so here goes

Ursula looked at her sister-in-law, Tara, sitting there with her baby on her lap. utterly defeated by the way life had turned. She wanted to try and comfort her, to tell the older woman that it will all be okay but even as she thought the words she knew it was a lie.

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see two of the soldiers protecting them coming towards her. Both were easily recognisable. One was Pieter, the sergeant of the small squad. Tall, built like an ox with strength to match, his rifle hung over one shoulder. He kept the men together by an iron rule, only made possible by the fact that he had spent over twenty of his forty years in uniform.

The other, she realised, was Philip the youngest having just turned eighteen, in the squad. Shorter then Pieter, his uniform showing the signs of the rapid weight loss he had suffered during the hard fighting. He was also sweet, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. As if he was surprised that any woman yet alone, in his words, one so beautiful would want to lay with him.
Ursula realised what was going to happen and stood up to greet the men, there was a price to be paid for protection.

As has always happened during the chaos of war and when facing death every day the retreating soldiers had taken to relieving their sorrows and fears in women and drink and when neither where not given willingly some of the troops had just taken what they wanted anyway.

And so it would have been with Pieter’s troops if they had not found the two women. As he bluntly told them when they asked if they could stay with them under their protection, he could not have useless mouths but if they would work their passage and with these words he looked them up and down, he was sure that something could be worked out.

“My family has money” Ursula started to say “lots of money and my father will reward you all handsomely for the safe return of his daughters and grandson.” Pieter just snorted in derision “thats not what I mean, what use is a potential reward when” and at this point he lowered his voice so the rest of the squad wouldn’t hear “not all of us will make it back. And anyway, we may get you all the way there and you family has lost everything. Defeat does that.” He looked her squarely in the eye, his body bent slightly “no we need something now, something as a day to day incentive and I need to stop my men running off after every woman they see and forcing their intentions upon them.”

At first the Ursula and Tara looked at him in confusion and then understanding flowed through their minds. Shocked at such a suggestion Tara started to protest and cry. Ursula voice became cold. “I ensure my father would not be happy if you dishonoured us and my father is a powerful man in the government.”

If Ursula had hoped to intimidate the combat veterans she was mistaken, Pieter did not even blink “if we don’t help you who else is going to. When we leave you two ladies will be at the mercy of whoever comes through the gate. And what is to stop us just taking what we want from you anyway?”

Ursula just stood there, thinking for a second and then in a level voice “Ok but only me. My sister here has just lost her husband and is in a bad way.” As she waited for the reply she was aware of the shocked look on Tara’s face, she knew what she was thinking, she would be dishonouring herself, well she would had the enemy not got to her first and anyway what use would honour be if they were all dead. No she would do this and worry about the consequences later, when it was all over.

Pieter looked at them both, sighed with relief “Okay, I will tell the men she is my woman only” his voice deep and guttural. From them on she had serviced the needs of the men, except Pieter who had spent most of his time when not fighting in Tara’s company, at first the widow was resistant but as they travelled he had shown a gentleness that had started to win her over. Ursula was not sure whether they had slept together as she did not want to ask for fear of breaking the spell.

Tara looked up as Pieter came and sat with her, putting his arm around her and holding her close, letting her cry into his shoulder.
“There there, let it all out” his voice surprisingly soft and gentle for all its normal harshness in command, his hand gently rubbing her arm as they sat there talking.

As she watched she got to thinking, where had it all gone wrong, how did she find herself in such a position? The answer was simple really, war, aggressive, destructive war. She started to weep, her mind drifting back to a time of relative peace.

Her childhood home was far to the west, in farmland in the heartland of her homeland. Her family were an old respectable one, being able to trace their linage back for over three centuries and were distant relatives to the then King.

Her childhood was a happy one in there large manor house with her three brothers, her mother and of course her father.

All three of her brothers had at one stage joined the army, the eldest two had served and then returned to work on her father’s estate, the eldest, Stefan in preparation for inheriting everything upon their father’s death, the middle one, Joseph until he could find a farm for himself and his wife.

Her youngest brother, Michael, only a few years older than she had stayed a soldier as he loved the life and comradeship.

Once upon a time, before Ursula’s birth, her father had been a powerful man, part of the Kings government. But a disastrously long, and ultimately failed, war against their oldest enemies had resulted in the country becoming a republic and their fall from favour, causing her father to retire back to his estates and a life of bitterness, while the country fell into dishonour, chaos and poverty.

And then the ‘The Leader’ came, a man who had risen through politics on promises of jobs, order and a return to a time of honour. He was an old friend of the family and her father, recognising that his fortunes could be revived, did all he could to bring his ascension to power. Something that was not forgotten by the leader, nor forgiven by his enemies.
At first everything was peaceful, well for the majority, a new prosperity had risen through the land, and if some had suffered for unfair blame, well at least there were jobs.

A once defeated military rose again, re-armed and proud. The latest weapons, the latest doctrines, a new focus and all thanks to the Leader and his party. But of course this had to be paid for, and this was done using the oldest method in the world. A war, provoked with an old enemy on their eastern borders. At first this war went well, the enemy forces were largely defeated, pushed back for hundreds of miles, forcing upon them surrender, under terms that could only be seen as humiliating, including the ceding of the captured land.

The people of this land lost all their rights, being reduced to the level of serfs, in fact less then serfs, the garrison troops were given full right reign, theft, murder and rape become the norm. Food rations were barely enough to keep people alive, and those that did live were worked hard on the farms and in the factories.

For his service to the Leader, Ursula’s father was given an estate in the newly conquered lands, an estate, with its accompanying tenant farmers, which he requested be given to his middle son and his wife, as a present in honour of her becoming pregnant.

The pregnancy was hard on Tara so Ursula had to go with them to help settle the family in, and to provide company for Tara while her brother set to sorting out the estate. While she protested at this, she was in fact excited by the prospect. As they travelled to the new home the minds of the two women were filled with the excitement of meeting new people, of balls to be held in the house, summer garden parties, just like at her home, but with one of them at the hostess. Already Tara had a mental picture of the first ball she would arrange, a welcoming one. Sadly this dream was to be dashed, almost upon arrival.

When they arrived at the estate they she remembered by being shocked by what she saw. From a distance it looked like any other large house, with a great view of the surrounding countryside. It was not until she drew closer that she realised that much of the building was a thick wall, giving the place a fortress like appearance. And when she entered the grounds she was even more surprised, these walls did not just surround the house and its stables, but the farms barns and animals, meaning that the whole place stunk of animal droppings.

The house as well was a disappointment, being not much bigger than the cottage their father’s estate manager lived in. Tara looked about and turning to her husband, said in a loud voice, ‘this will not do, this may be alright for peasants to live in, but not for us”, tears of disappointment started to fall down her cheek. Her husband tried to placate her “don’t worry my love, as soon as I can I will build you a fine house, just as soon as the money starts to come in” he said as he hugged her.

This placated her Ursula noticed, and her brother did all he could to raise as much money as possible from the estate and its farms. Raising the rents, cutting the wages to the workers in field, and increasing the prices charged to them for food.

All this, combined with increasingly harsher and harsher laws passed against them, made the locals more and more hateful of the man and the two women. A hatred that was only increased as more and outsiders were sent into the land to colonise it, creating little communities, all under the command Joseph, forcing them from their homes and into, cold, damp wooden huts, all guarded by a viscous militia raised from the outlanders, who did not baulk at forcing their will on them.

Ursula tried, and largely succeeded, to ignore what was happening, but as she saw more and more what was happening around, the more and more disquiet she felt, seeing the hateful looks she got from them all.

Time moved on, a son was born to Joseph and Tara, Ursula stayed to help out and she learned to love the house, which was expanding bit by bit.

Then, suddenly, the war started up again. Their enemy had raised forces in secret, re-arming them, retraining them until the time was right and they struck back to regain the surrendered land. At first it looked like this was in vain, for the first few months they were held, but gradually their own forces were forced back, even Joseph was recalled to lead the local Militia. Ursula remembered her brother leaving, climbing into the front of a truck and leading the best of the men away. This was the last time they saw him.

A formation of half-trained old men and boys was all that was left to defend them and the town. From then on she lived in fear, hoping that the rest of the troops would be back before the locals realised how precarious the outlander’s position was.

This was a vain hope, rumours came that the army had broken, rumours given substance when the sounds of battle were heard from the farmhouse, and then soldiers were seen fleeing.

As the conditions worsened, the women and children in the town were sent back west, back to the towns they had come from, leaving their menfolk to defend the retreat. Ursula begged Tara to join the exodus, begged her to take the boy to safety, but Tare would have none of it. She would wait until Joseph returned and then he would decide their fate. She released Ursula from care, told her to leave, but she would, she stayed to help look after the boy, hoping that she could persuade her sister-in-law to see sense before it was too late. Sadly, it was.

The last day in the house started the same as each and every day had, the last of the militia had vacated the town, hoping to use the estates walls as some kind of fortress for a last stand. Ursula bathed and help feed the baby, and then feed what was left of the livestock. Then a messenger appeared, a wounded member of the militia, with a message for everybody. They had been wiped out, and Joseph was dead, killed by an enemy sniper during the retreat.
Tara broke down, her tears could be heard throughout the house, Ursula had to take charge, thanking the man for telling them and then leading her away, telling her to prepare to leave the next morning. The preparations for departure took all the evening and most of the night, exhausting her, causing her to fall in a fitful, dreamless sleep.

She was awoken by the sound of gunfire, which was getting closer and closer to the house. She could hear the sounds as someone tried to break through the thick heavy gate in the wall, people firing wildly and then silence for a while. She ran to the windows, looking out, against the flashes of gunfire she could see the militia men’s bodies falling into the yard.

Then the gate burst open, and people burst through. She realised that these were not enemy soldiers, but the people who were displaced from the town, coming back to wreck their vengeance onto the occupants of the house.
Quickly she dressed by just putting on a blouse and skirt over her night things and grabbed the baby and Tara, dragging them down to the cellar to hide. As she closed the door behind her, she heard the main door burst open and the heavy footsteps of people entering.

Suddenly she heard the crashing as their belongings were broken and looted, the heavy footsteps of people running around and then silence, blessed silence.

As they hid they, they started to smell something, smoke. “Oh my god” Tara cried, “oh my god it’s on fire we’re going to die” and with that she started to cry again, the sound caused the baby to start crying. With that she grabbed them both and led them to the door, gingerly opening it allowing cloying, choking smoke to enter and swirl around them, forcing them to cough. Seeing that the smoke should hide them, she dragged them to the door. Hoping that the towns people had abandoned the house.

Exiting she looked around her, seeing only the bodies of the militiamen, she half lead, half dragged Tara and the baby out of the yard, through the doors and straight into the arms of some of the towns people.
“Hello what do we have here” one of them said, grabbing her.
She looked around her, six of the men were standing there, carrying a mixed bag of guns between them.

One, an older man, obviviously their leader started to circle around her, “waddya think boys, to the victor the spoils eh” and with that he grabbed the neck of her blouse and ribbed it away, exposing her upper body to the men’s gaze.

“Noooooooooo” she cried, as she tried to bring an arm up to cover herself, “let me go”

Suddenly she was grabbed, hands started to roam over her body, her skirt was ripped from her and then the nightdress she was wearing under it, leaving her body naked to their view.

She heard a scream from behind her, then she saw Tara being dragged into view, her body naked, three men handling her, their hands moving all over her as they threw her to the ground and forced her legs apart, before climbing in-between them.

She was brought back to her own predicament when she herself was thrown to ground, the men’s hands roughly squeezing her exposed breasts, she tried to struggle, tried to fight but one man put a pistol to her head and cocked the trigger, telling her to just lie there and do as she was told.

She closed her eyes as her legs were wrenched apart and the first man mounted her, his breath stinking with the combination of rarely cleaned teeth and homemade alcohol, his unwashed body stinking of dirt and BO.

Suddenly she felt his cock thrust into her, ripping apart her hymen, thrusting back and forth, hurting her dry vagina. She screamed in pain, terrible, virtually unbearable pain. A pain like none that she has ever felt in her life but the man did not care. She heard the men laugh at her pain, laugh as tears started to flow down her face.

One of the men pulled her face to the side and taking advantage of her open mouth, thrust his cock into her, gagging her, almost choking her into unconsciousness. He pulled back, allowing her some air and then thrust forward again, all the while her first assailant was still thrusting in and out of her.

“That’s it bitch, take it. It’s what your men have been doing to our women” he yelled at her “is that mouth good?” he directed at the man fucking her mouth. “Shit, yeah” was the reply he received.

The man grabbed her head and used it to push her head back and forth, treating it not as something alive, attached to a person but as an inanimate object, just for his use, all the while his friend was raping her vagina, her cunt as she heard him call it.

The third man, realising that she would not be any trouble had put his pistol away and had started to play with her breasts, roughly squeezing them, kneading with his hands as if there were lumps of bread dough, cruelly twisting her nipples, sending new waves of pain to add to that coming from her vagina and mouth.

The pain started to become overwhelming, she could feel herself blacking out, it was only the thought of her sister-in-law needing her, and a wonder of what had happened to the baby that allowed her to fight it.

Suddenly the man raping her mouth gave a little grunt, and his cock started to tremble as he pulled back and then a warm, salty, sticky fluid started to come from his cock, filling her mouth, adding to her degradation.

“No staying power” she heard one of the others say with a laugh, as the cock was still thrusting in and out of her vagina, harder and harder the man thrust, ripping the skin at the entrance, until he started to grunt, his cock trembled and then, the same sticky liquid filled her down there.

“Oh yes bitch, we’re going to leave you with a baby” he laughed as he rolled off her, leaving her lyng there, hoping that the assault was over. A vain hope, for the man kneading her breasts went to take his place, thrusting in just like his friend.

Suddenly he gave a little “oh” and she heard a crack and felt him slump forward, a sticky wetness emanating from his head. She risked opening her eyes, and screaming when she saw a neatly drilled bullet hole in his forehead, she heard more crack, realising they were rifle shots and heard her attackers yelling and running off.

She pushed the man off of her and crawled over to Tara’s unconscious body, noting the blood and bruises that has been left over it.

She looked up at approaching footsteps, seeing a man mountain towering above her and then the other men, all clustered around him, all in the uniform of the regular army.

The mountain looked down at her kindly for a moment and spoke “hello miss, I’m Pieter and this is my squad...”