Hunted AU: Strip Searchbyfurrybert©
Sasha stood off to the side of the soldiers, silently scanning the groups of people around him. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, but his eyes settled on a lone figure and suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. On the surface, the woman was unremarkable and the soldiers certainly hadn't taken any notice of her; however Sasha had little regard for their abilities anyway.
From a distance it appeared that she was dressed plainly, with no visible jewellery or other valuables. She was wearing a flowing red-brown skirt and a sturdy looking pair of boots, and a long, dark grey coat in an attempt to keep warm in the snow. Her hair was loose, almost as if she were trying to hide her face beneath the chocolate brown strands, but she was still shivering in the cold.
She was definitely not a native, the shivering was a clue to that. It was rather a mild day by their normal standards and the sun was shining weakly through the clouds. Sasha moved a little closer to get a better look at the girl, but not so close as to alert her of his attention. On closer inspection her coat seemed like it was designed for form rather than function, as were the boots. Definitely an expensive Western designer of some sort. What was she doing here?
Suzanne was shivering, partly due to the ridiculous cold (even with her warmest coat on), and partly due to fear. She couldn't believe her bad luck that a hoard of soldiers would turn up and start searching people just when she had been about to leave. She was pretty sure she didn't have anything to hide that they could find, but it didn't matter; she'd heard stories. Thankfully, though, it seemed like the soldiers hadn't noticed her and she was going to be able to slip away unnoticed.
Or maybe not. She gasped in fright as she noticed one of the men walking straight towards her. He wasn't in uniform but he had arrived with the soldiers, and something about the expression on his face told her that it wasn't a good thing that he seemed to be taking an interest in her. Perhaps it was the rifle strapped to his back that worried her, or the nasty looking handgun that he was carrying pointed at the ground. Oh, god.
Suzanne tried not to look terrified as the man stalked towards her, but it wasn't so easy. He certainly didn't look very friendly. The words "hard as nails" and "evil incarnate" quickly sprang to mind, although he wasn't unattractive like most of the men around her. He slowed to a halt about 10 feet in front of her, motioned to her with his gun for her to come to him. She didn't move. He started speaking to her in his language, and her heart started pounding wildly. She was pretty sure he wanted her to go over to him, but she couldn't get her legs to work.
He looked unamused. He continued his advancement on her, growled angrily as she started backing away, eyes darting about for any hope of a means of escape. No chance. Suzanne yelped as he reached out and grabbed her by the hair, his gun coming to rest at the bottom of her jaw, none too gently. She froze, her hands instinctively coming up to try to push him away but not daring to touch him.
The man didn't say anything for a while as he stood holding his fistful of poker straight hair. He seemed to be studying her face, enjoying her look of panic as he pressed the muzzle of his gun into her throat. He was tall, a part of her brain noticed as he used the gun to tilt her head back so that she had to look up into his eyes, and she didn't dare break his stare. His eyes were dark brown, and he had a scar over the left eye that left an almost fetching gap through his eyebrow.
"You're not from this country," he said softly, letting the gun trail down to her collarbone. "What are you doing here?" Suzanne had trouble understanding what he meant; a few short lessons and a quick glance through a "Teach Yourself" book could only go so far, after all. Thankfully, she did remember how to say "I don't understand." She'd used it a lot.
She sounded like she'd learned what little of the language she had from a Russian. Suspicions confirmed, Sasha tightened his grip in the girl's hair and pulled her closer, let his thigh touch one of hers. "American?" he said in English, then shook his head at her silence. "Not American, you don't talk enough. English?" She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Why are you here?" he asked, watching her reaction to his leg touching hers. She flinched, tried to pull away, but she was trapped between his gun and the hand in her hair.
His accent was pretty strong, but his English was a lot better than her attempts at speaking a foreign language. Suzanne could understand him fine, but she didn't think it best to tell him why she was here. He was holding her close on purpose, the intention was to be threatening and he was certainly succeeding in that. She gasped softly as he let the gun play against the neckline of her coat, its barrel rubbing the top of one of her breasts for a moment. He smiled nastily, enjoying her fear.
The girl was terrified, that much was obvious. Tough. He wanted answers from her regardless. She whimpered in fear as he leaned down and slid his mouth against her ear, the gun sliding down to rest against her thigh. "One of two things can happen from here," he growled into her ear. "You answer my questions, or we play rough. I'm happy either way, but you won't be." He turned so that his unshaven face rubbed against her smooth cheek slowly, let himself smell her hair. She smelled clean and feminine and utterly unaccustomed to their rather harsh reality. He smiled as she shuddered against him in response to his touch.
The man repeated his earlier question, and Suzanne figured she had to say something in response. "I'm on holiday," she said, which wasn't entirely untrue. She just wasn't supposed to be on holiday in a war-torn wasteland. He snorted at that.
"Of course you are," he replied sarcastically. "Why would anyone not want to come and visit hell on earth?" He leaned back a little and stared down at the shivering girl coldly. "What is your name?"
Suzanne didn't answer. She knew that it probably wasn't the best of ideas, but she was terrified that giving this man any information would endanger the person that she had come to try and find. He sighed in annoyance at her refusal to answer his questions, then slid his gun away, concealed somewhere behind his back. "Do you have a passport?" he asked, sliding his free hand over her hips in search of pockets. Shit! He didn't find anything, so he searched higher, grinning at her moan of despair as his hand brushed the underside of her breasts. He felt the outline of something concealed in an inner pocket and slid his hands to the buttons of the coat, unfastening them roughly.
"Please don't!" she whispered as his hand slid inside, but he moved straight for the item within her coat pocket. He smiled triumphantly as he revealed her passport, and flicked through it slowly.
"You came from Italy?" he said, his eyebrow raising in interest. "If I were you, I would have stayed there." He flicked to the back page where her personal information was held, checked that the photograph matched. The name read 'Suzanne Kate McCullough.' The cold was seeping in through her open coat, and her shivering increased in intensity. She gasped in horror as he pocketed her passport, then started shoving her towards a small building, away from the rest of the crowds. He backed her against the wall, didn't stop until he was pressing into her from chest to thigh.
Suzanne moaned softly in fear as the man pushed himself against her and pinned her to the wall. She could feel solid muscle against her chest and was mortified to feel her cold-hardened nipples jutting into him through her clothes. He was at least shielding her from the cold, but she would have gladly stood there shivering her arse off rather than be at the mercy of this man.
"Last chance," he growled, his hand sliding under her coat and resting on her ribs. "Tell me why you're here, or we start getting very friendly." To make certain that she understood the threat, he slid his palm against one of her breasts and stroked for a moment. The fabric of the fingerless gloves he was wearing created a strange sensation, but his fingertips felt warm against her freezing skin.
Suzanne's breath caught in her throat as the man used his palm to cup her breast and slid his thumb over her nipple. She shuddered in fear at the sensation and then whined in pain as he squeezed her nipple so hard that it would have drawn blood had he used his teeth. He eventually relented and stroked over her throbbing nipple again gently, his eyes burning with clear enjoyment at making her cry out in pain. Suzanne felt a confusing rush of sensation through her body at the look in her tormentor's eyes and the pain that he was causing, and her body squirmed against his against her will.
Sasha smiled cruelly as the girl whimpered beneath him while he stroked over her breast. "Why do you care?" she asked, wanting to know what had made her stand out for him against the rest of the crowd.
"Because," he growled softly, his hand sliding back down to rest on her hip. "Big bad soldier is standing here threatening to rape pretty little English girl, and she still doesn't want to say why she's here. Must be important, don't you think?" Suzanne squeezed her eyes closed, trying to stem the flow of tears that were threatening to fall. "Either that," he went on, his voice low and gravelly. "Or she wants to be fucked. Is that it, baby?" He slid his hand to her arse and pulled her against him firmly. "Do you want to know what it feels like having a Serbian dick inside you? Being held down and fucked by a murderer?"
Suzanne felt that same rush of sensation through her body as the man pulled her even closer so that he was pressing his dick into her lower belly. She certainly couldn't miss the fact that he was enjoying tormenting her. "Please no!" she whispered, one of the tears escaping and making a run for it down her cheek. "Why me?"
Sasha paused for a moment. Why her? "Because you look so... innocent," he whispered, stroking the wet line on her face where the tear had fallen.
*Innocent?* Suzanne thought to herself, her eyebrows raising in confusion. *But I'm twenty three years old!* "Are you going to ruin that?" she asked, her lip trembling. He laughed softly.
"Oh yes," he confirmed, stroking his palm over her cheek, and she closed her eyes in fear. "Completely. All you have to do is tell me why you're here. Or we can fuck; it's up to you."
"But you can't!" Suzanne replied, here eyes wide in shock. "All these people – "
"Won't see a thing," he interrupted. "War does that to people."
"But..." Suzanne whispered, struggling against her captor. She brought her hands up to his chest and shoved as hard as she could, groaned "Let me go!" He laughed softly at her attempts to get him off her, enjoying the feel of her hands sliding over his chest. "Please don't do this!"
Big brown eyes stared up at him imploringly, wide with fear, and Sasha smiled, a sadistic glint in his eye. Now that he could see the girl close up, he noticed the fine texture of her skin and her youthful appearance. Her face was fine-boned and she had a small, straight nose that balanced perfectly with her beautiful doe-eyes. He slid his mouth to her ear again, whispered "Talk to me, baby," then slid his mouth downwards and started to nuzzle and suck her throat gently. He felt his dick start to throb as the girl moaned softly in response and she allowed her head to fall back in submission. Her hands stilled on his chest and her fingers curled slightly, her nails digging into his clothing.
Suzanne lost awareness of her surroundings for a moment as Sasha slid his mouth down over her throat. Regardless of her fear, her body was reacting to him and causing her skin to flush while a wave of warmth was spreading from her neck down to her inner thighs. She moaned softly as Sasha slid a palm to her back inside her coat, moving down to grip one of her arse cheeks firmly, and she came back to her senses with a jolt.
The girl started to struggle again, and so Sasha held still against her, enjoying the feel of her wriggling beneath him. He slid his mouth back to her ear and whispered "I am going to bury my dick inside you and watch you squirm for me, little girl. And you're going to scream for hours." She whimpered in despair, turned a shade of red even darker than when he'd been kissing her. Sasha pulled her away from the wall and shoved her towards the door of the building, propelling her inside roughly.
The building consisted of one large room and only one door. A couple of tables were located haphazardly around the room, and Sasha shoved his little captive towards the one furthest from the door. He had been right earlier; he could have happily screwed her against the wall outside and none of the civilians would have seen a thing. The other soldiers however would have wanted their turn, and Sasha wasn't one for sharing. Not until he was done with her, at least.
Suzanne wasn't sure if she should be happy for the privacy or scared shitless of what Sasha was going to do. She watched him close the door behind them and then lower his rifle and his handgun to one of the tables, removing the ammunition and placing them down with a surprising amount of care and attention. Probably a lot more than she was going to receive. He took off his gloves and left them with the guns, sliding his jacket off his shoulders at the same time to reveal a black t-shirt that seemed suddenly very good at demonstrating his more than adequately muscled arms and chest. He walked towards her slowly, the brutal expression on his face causing Suzanne's legs to tremble. She backed away as he advanced on her until her shoulders hit the wall, and she was trapped.
Sasha grabbed the girl by the coat, let her twist free so that the garment fell away in his hand. She made a run for it but she had no chance of escaping him. He caught her by the hair and threw her back against the wall. Tears of shock spilled over her cheeks at the sudden sharp pain in her scalp, and Suzanne whimpered softly. He tightened his grip in her hair and lifted her onto her toes with one hand, forcing her to look at him.
"You want to play games?" he growled, shoving her back against the wall. "We can do that. But I'm warning you, baby. I play rough."
"Let me go, you bastard!" Suzanne screamed, bringing her knee upwards in an attempt to hit him in the balls. She almost succeeded, but he twisted out of the way and she ended up hitting his leg instead. She brought up her hands and punched him in the face as hard as she could. He didn't even flinch.
"My turn," he whispered softly, flexing the muscles in his shoulders for a moment to make sure that she knew what was coming. He looked her over quickly, taking in the small size of her build for her height, and then punched her in the left cheek, making sure that he controlled the blow so that he didn't break any bones. The girl yelped in pain; the blow had been bad enough, but it also turned her head to the side and put pressure on the hair that Sasha was still holding on to.
"Had enough?" he asked softly, and Suzanne glowered at him in between sobs. He was impressed that she didn't give up straight away. He hit her again, harder, and she screamed this time. A drop of blood began to trickle from her nose. Sasha lowered the girl to her feet again and released her hair, slid his hand to her chin instead. "We can stop any time you're ready," he whispered softly, but the look in his eyes said very clearly that he didn't want to stop. He continued hitting her, until she had difficulty in standing up and she eventually begged him to stop.
"Want to tell me why you're here yet baby?" Sasha asked, and Suzanne looked away, silent. "Then I can carry on hitting you or I can fuck you. Make up your mind." She still said nothing, and so he hit her again.
"Please stop!" Suzanne whispered softly, her head lolling forwards from the impact of his fist to her cheek. Sasha pulled the girl's head level with his so that she looked him in the eye again.
"Had enough?" he said again, and she nodded miserably. "Then tell me why you're here, or ask me to fuck you." Suzanne's eyes widened. No. There was no way that she was going to accept either option. She hesitated too long and was rewarded with another crack to her jaw. She couldn't take any more, she was about to faint.
"You know what you need to say, baby," Sasha murmured, and stroked a few strands of hair off her face.
"Please..." Suzanne whispered, her face a vision of pain. "Please fuck me."
Those three words sent shivers down Sasha's spine, but he still wanted more. He pulled her eyes in line with his again, took in her bruised and bleeding face and her dark tear-filled eyes that displayed her fear so beautifully. He held her gaze as he whispered "say it again."
Suzanne whined in humiliation, her eyes pleading, but Sasha would not relent. She took a shaky breath and whispered the phrase again, felt her body burn with shame as his eyes started to blaze with desire. He pulled her away from the wall, turned her around and shoved her against the edge of the table, so suddenly that she lost her balance and fell onto it, prone.
Sasha leaned over the girl and slid his hand over her cheek, held her eyes level with his again. Their faces were so close that their noses rubbed together gently and she flinched uncomfortably. "I don't think you meant that, baby," he whispered softly, smiling cruelly as her eyes widened in fear. "Maybe we should just go back to what we were doing before?" he asked, raising his arm and curling his fingers into a fist.
"No!" Suzanne whimpered softly, bringing her hands up in front of her face. "Please no! I said what you wanted, please-"
"But you didn't mean it," he asked softly. "Did you?" He flexed his shoulder and pulled his fist back, ready to hit her again.
"I did!" Suzanne whispered, reaching out and grabbing Sasha's hand in an attempt to bring it back down. He was amused by her efforts, but kept his expression brutal as usual. "Please don't. Please!"
Sasha twisted his hand free from the girl's considerably weaker grip and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. She arched her back instinctively and writhed against him, until he used his free hand to grab her throat and pin her down.
"Do you think you're in charge here, little bitch?" he growled harshly, squeezing her throat sharply to warn her against trying to move again. "Do you think you can tell me what to do?" Tears filled the girl's eyes and spilled out onto her face and Sasha felt his dick throb with desire at her obvious terror.
"No!" she whimpered, her voice hoarse until he loosened his grip on her throat a little. "I just didn't want you to... to hit me again. I-I... I'll do what... I'll do whatever you want, just please, please don't hit me again."
The girl was hysterical, and Sasha was loving it. He could think of almost nothing he would rather do than bask in this girl's abject terror of him. Almost. He was definitely looking forward to hearing her scream as he sank his dick all the way inside her.
"Anything, baby?" he repeated, taking his hand off her throat so that he could stroke her face. She nodded immediately. "So you do want me to fuck you?"
There was a split second pause, and then she replied. "Yes."
"Say it," he growled, grabbing her chin so that her eyes were held level with his.
"Please fuck me," Suzanne whispered softly, her voice wavering. Sasha sneered.
"Don't believe you baby," he whispered, letting go of her wrists so that he could sink his fist into her hair, ready to pull.
"Please fuck me!" Suzanne repeated, trying to sound as persuasive as possible. "Please, please fuck me."