161st Regiment Relief Station

NOTE: This story features dark themes of coerced sex, public humiliation, and degradation. It also indulges in some of what we might call "porn logic" around these unpleasant topics. Be warned!

All characters are over 18, fictional, and awful. No real life person should behave like them.

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Khlia had intended to stop here only for a minute before hurrying home. Just until the end of the song that was playing as she parked her ground car. Khlia had never liked to stop a song in the middle.

Most people around here commuted via the crowded tube system. Owning a personal ground car had been Khlia's chief indulgence in an otherwise frugal lifestyle. She enjoyed having her own private little bubble from which to observe the world.

Since the occupation, Heldon Square had become the easiest place in the neighborhood to find parking. The great starships that had darkened the skies, and spewed out thousands of gray-and-gold soldiers, had only barely affected daily life in the city. But people avoided where the big men patrolled.

And they especially avoided Heldon Square, where the old coffee kiosk had been converted into something labelled a "relief station." Every day, some poor local woman was conscripted from the brothels to be locked into some strange and terrible machine, for the use of the soldiers.

Every day for the last week, Khlia had parked here after driving home from the office. Every day, she caught glimpses of the relief station women's toil, before hurrying off to her apartment. Every day, she tried not to think about the twisting in her belly, the heat between her thighs, as she imagined what it would be like to be forced into one of those machines.

In its own way, the machine was oddly pretty. Like a slender, crystalline tree, it sprouted a dozen or more transparent restraining arms from a compact, glowing base.

As she watched, a new soldier stepped up to the woman. He found a handhold somewhere within the nest of branches, and rotated the dazed woman, who had been lying on her back, to an upright position.

Crystal arms moved past each other in a dizzying tangle to shift smoothly into the new pose, and present the occupant at the soldier's preferred angle.

Even from here, Khlia could see the fresh dollops of come drizzle out of her as she locked into her new pose, suspended in the air with her arms behind her back and her knees pulled up almost to her shoulders.

The man and his friend unzipped their trousers and, laughing together at some witticism, they were inside her -- one penetrating the woman from the back, and one from the front. The soldier fucking the woman's ass was playing with her breasts as he did so, pinching and kneading in time with his thrusts.

Even from inside her car, Khlia could hear the woman's helpless sounds of complaint, or pleasure, or just...helplessness.

She felt herself clench inside, as if her own cunt was trying to grapple with the cocks across the square.

Khlia didn't quite know when the song had changed, or when her own fingers had crept to the buttons of her blouse, to the damp silk between her legs.

She didn't know how long she'd been touching herself when she heard a click, very close, and almost jumped out of her seat.

A very, very large man in crisp gray and gold slid down into the passenger seat, and closed the door behind him. She considered the possible effects of screaming, and instead clamped her jaw tight.

"Hello there, sweet thing," he drawled in his odd off-planet accent. Not the usual accent for an imperial. He must be from another of their conquered worlds. He had blonde hair, an uncommon phenotype on her planet -- most planets, in fact -- and it glowed in the golden afternoon sunlight streaking in between the office buildings.

Even seated, he loomed over her. Standing, he had to be at least a foot taller than her, maybe two feet. Well, she was not a tall woman, and the imperials were said to give their recruits gene therapy to develop size and strength beyond the typical human range. But she was sure he was big even for a soldier.

Seeing him squeezed into her car seat might have been amusing under other circumstances. But right now, her blood was frozen, spine rigid, mind spinning with sudden terror.

Maybe he's just a country boy who wants to talk while he waits for his friends to finish with the relief station woman, she thought.

Yeah, sure.

"Enjoying the view?" the blonde man said, grinning crookedly. He wore a shoulder stripe that she thought might mark him as a junior officer. A corporal?

"I don't know what you're talking about," she tried. "I'm just trying to get home."

Idiot! Don't let him know that you live around here!

But he merely reached up to her rear-view mirror, adjusting it so that it gave her a view down the length of her own body. The mirror-image travelled downwards, past worried eyes, flushed cheeks, to find her puffy-sleeved work blouse half-unbuttoned, one breast loosed from its bra cup, pink tip peeking out lewdly.

"That deliciously slutty little nipple says otherwise," he said. "Look how nice and hard it is for me? You couldn't possibly object if I were to touch it."

Her hand wavered between trying to open the door, and trying to fix her disheveled clothing. She remained frozen.

She tried to formulate an appropriately withering response, but she took too long, and he spoke again.

"Look," he said, leaning back and taking an I'm a reasonable guy sort of tone. "I'm just here to have a bit of fun. That poor lady out there doesn't want my cock, but if she's the best your planet can do, I'll take her. You, on the other hand..."

He rested a hand on her forearm. His fingers brushed the fine hairs there, raising them into goosebumps.

"You seem much more interesting."

"Go away," she said weakly.

"And more interested than you're letting on," he continued, brushing past her feeble objections. "Why not take on a little of the load for your overworked sister? You might even consider it a good deed."

This notion struck her with an unexpected pang. The woman across the square looked tired, overstimulated, shaking with the thrusts of yet another pair of servicemen. Maybe it would be something of a good deed to distract this young officer -- to give the relief station woman a tiny morsel of relief herself.

The fact that she was horny as hell might be affecting her judgment.

He must have sensed some softening in her eyes, because his hand drifted up from her forearm to cup her breast.

His thumb flicked her nipple. She throbbed.

She was still all wound up from the moment of weakness he had so rudely interrupted. She wanted to get away. She wanted to come. She wanted...things she refused to think about. Things she'd long been ashamed of herself for wanting.

"Fine," she heard herself say. "If it'll get you to leave her alone, I'll indulge you."

What are you doing? her sensible side screamed internally.

"But I am not your relief girl," she revised, shoving his hand away. "You'll do nothing without my permission."

It sounded like false bravado in her own ears. She certainly hadn't invited this man into her vehicle, and he could easily overpower her if he chose. Yet here he was, and...well, there was a small but sneakily insistent part of her that twisted in heavenly knots at the idea. The awful quisling in her that whispered, overpower me, gnawing at her self-control.

"Very well," the blonde man said. "I swear it."

So he would indulge her pretense of being in control of the situation. For how long?

"Then you may touch me."

His great big pale fingers closed around her hand, and he touched her knuckles to his lips in a strangely tender kiss.

Then his lips drifted down to her fingertips, and he sucked them into his mouth, tasting. Tasting her arousal.

The blonde corporal grinned like a cat, his eyes mocking her.

She yelped when he lifted her easily by the hips and sat her in his lap. His arms were all around her now, and she had lost any hope of getting out of the car and scrambling away.

Did she want to get away?

His lips brushed through her hair and nipped at her earlobe. His hands caressed her throat, dipping down the swell of her chest. He tugged her blouse and her bra straps off her shoulders to pool around her elbows, and his questing fingers pushed fabric aside to cradled her now-naked breasts, aching for his touch.

Her skirt was rucked up around her waist, and a very obvious erection pressed against her ass. She found herself grinding into him as he tugged and twisted at the sensitive flesh around her nipples, sending sparks behind her eyes.

Across the street, the relief woman had been rotated so that she was lying on her back in the cradle of branches. One man sank his cock in between her upraised legs, while the other was rutting into her mouth, and gripping her breasts almost like handles. Strands of spit and come dangled between them and ran down her face, puddling in the long, sticky dark hair that now hung down to the man's knees.

Khlia was horrified and appalled at what the invaders were doing to their brothel conscript. But she could not honestly say she was repelled by it. No, it was a horror that drew her in, that even now was making her whimper in obscene pleasure as the blonde man found just the right touch on her breasts -- the one that made her irresistibly buck her hips against the tented fabric around his cock.

"Your pussy is making quite the wet spot on my trousers. Such a filthy girl, hiding under that respectable business suit. I bet you think about spreading your legs all day while you do your spreadsheets."

He pulled hard on both of her nipples, stretching her breasts upwards. She gasped.

Khlia couldn't believe she was letting a man talk to her this way. She couldn't believe how much it was turning her on. It was humiliating to be turned on by being humiliated: a feedback loop, some distant, useless, analytical part of her mind supplied.

"You really are a good little slut," he rumbled just behind her ear, and despite herself she moaned pathetically in his knowing grip. "Such a shame that you missed your calling as a whore. You can't take your eyes off of her, wishing you were in her place. You would just love to service a hundred cocks, wouldn't you?"

In the distance, the soldier using the relief woman's mouth pulled out, groaning with climax, and a streak of pearly white crossed the woman's face.

Khlia could feel her own climax building, as if in echo -- and then the blonde man was plucking at her areolas and rolling her nipples between his fingers just so, and she rocked into shocking, shuddering, spine-stretching release.

"Damn -- I haven't even gotten into your panties yet," he murmured, nuzzling her neck, "And you're already coming buckets. What kind of nasty little cunt comes just from getting her tits fondled?"

"Shut up," she ground out between her teeth, sagging tremulously into his arms. His words had touched her as deftly as his fingers, and she raged inwardly at how transparent her deepest, darkest self was to him.

He was working her panties and hose down her legs now. When he unzipped his uniform trousers, the cock that sprang out was by far the biggest she'd ever seen.

He's also the biggest man you've ever seen, her brain pointed out oh-so helpfully. So, the proportions are in order.

"No way is that thing going to fit," she breathed.

"I'm used to working with petite women," the blonde man chuckled. "Don't worry. I don't expect you to take me. I know how to have a good time with just a taste of cunt."

"A taste, then," she said warily. "No more."

He had his cock in hand, and he guided it to her pussy, running it along her slit. His other arm was pinning her tight to his chest by her waist and arms.

"Fuck," he groaned. "I'm practically swimming in your juices."

He dipped the thing just an inch or so inside her. Even that little bit of him seemed to stretch her. Then he withdrew, slicking it back along the outside of her pussy, bumping sweetly against her clit and then back again.

With each little penetration, she became more accustomed to his girth, and she began to rock into his rhythm, feeling her cunt grasp at him, hearing him shudder and moan and jerk under and inside her.

Deeper inside of her, now, she realized suddenly. With that last thrust, he must have gone several inches deep, the incredible thickness of his cock opening her alarmingly wide. She bit her lip, stifling a wail as her body strained to accommodate him.

"Wait..." Khlia gasped.

"You can do it," he said, breathing hard. "Such a perfect little whore."

But with the next thrust, he returned to going only an inch or so deep, and she heard herself whine pathetically when he stopped short and withdrew again.

"What's that, slut? You want more?"

"T-too much."

"You're sure?"

He teased her, leaving his cock at her entrance but going no further, and she found herself thrusting downwards to get a little bit of it inside her.

"Beg me to fuck you properly," he growled.

She held her lips closed, hating him, hating the way her cunt wanted nothing more than to sink down onto him as far as she could go, no matter how uncomfortable or how shameful.

"What's a matter, aren't you on birth control?" he taunted.

"Of course I am," she hissed.

"Too bad. I bet you'd love to get bred by a nameless soldier. To live forever with the shame of having been such a pathetic comeslut that you got knocked up on your commute because you just couldn't say no."

"I do not want...any of that!"

"I bet you'd tell all your office-mates your baby had a loving father back home. They'd never suspect you were such a sloppy whore in your free time."

She clamped her mouth shut again, but she couldn't stop herself from grinding her clit desperately against his cock.

"Beg me to fuck you properly," he repeated, "And I'll send you home with a full womb and a big, cock-drunk grin."

"Shut up and...and fuck me properly," she said, wriggling uselessly under the iron clamp of his arm. He pinched her nipple, hard.

"You can do better than that. Beg. Beg me to ruin you. Beg me to turn you into a perfect little whore."

"Please," she ground out. "Please ruin me."

As she spoke, some wall she had expected to crash into disappeared, and she went on, gathering strength.

"Please make your pregnant comeslut," she said. The words rang hot and shameful in her ears. "I want to be your perfect little filthy cock-drunk --"

Her words cut off into a moan as suddenly, he was inside her again, deeper than before. Then he withdrew and thrust into her with even greater force, and she cried out.

It didn't hurt like she had feared, but it was slow, and difficult. Inch by inch, with each thrust she took more of him, losing all control of her voice. Her muscles twanged, nerves sparked.

She had almost forgotten about the world outside, about the woman being fucked a few dozen yards beyond her windshield. The action was happening right here, inside her little bubble. She was a wailing, flushed, guilty, elated mess.

Then the bubble burst.

The driver's side door swung open, and a second imperial solder slipped into the seat next to them. Dark-haired and middle-toned, with a long nose and a distinct five-o'clock shadow. A sergeant.

"Heyyy," said the newcomer, leering at her. "You have found a nice piece of ass."

Fully enclosed in the blonde man's great muscular arms, Khlia could do absolutely nothing but let him use her as his cock-sleeve. She wanted to object to the arrival of this second man, but the thrusts were coming faster, and harder, and deeper, and her voice seemed to catch in her throat, as if his cock were somehow pushing the air from her lungs.

"I'm going to give you my come, sweetie," he croaked, even his breath ragged now. "You ready?"

She made an incoherent noise. Not that it mattered. Behind her, a twitch and an almost inaudible moan, a shudder and waver in the iron grip of the arms enclosing her -- the external manifestation of the sticky heat now spilling deep into her.

It seemed to take a long time for him to finish, but at last his arms slackened. She sagged to a stop, feeling him begin to soften inside her.

They just sat there breathing for a few moments. But when Khlia opened her eyes, she was suddenly reminded of the other man in her car.

The dark-haired sergeant met her gaze with a gross smirk, a wordless reminder of what a slut she was.

She tried to look back at him with something like dignity. Her cunt, worked up into a fresh frenzy of desire since her mortifying orgasm earlier, throbbed with needy betrayal.

"You don't mind doing another good deed, do you?" whispered the blonde man. "I'm sure your friend at the relief post will appreciate it. Though -- the two of you haven't actually met, have you? We should do something about that."

Her stomach tied itself in knots as she digested his words.

"Aw, buddy, you know how I love sloppy seconds," hummed the stubbly newcomer, unzipping his trousers.

"This slut was desperate for some good imperial come," said the blonde corporal conversationally. "I told her I'd help her get knocked up."

Khlia looked accusingly at him. He winked at her.

But before she could respond, she was lifted like a bag of groceries and deposited back into the driver's seat to straddle the new man.

She was pretty sure a glob of come just plopped into the spare change at the bottom of her cup-holder.

Blondie leaned towards her, taking her nipples between his fingers again. Somehow they seemed to be growing more rather than less responsive with repetition.

"Watch this," he said, his lips brushing the flesh of her breasts. "She's so worked up, I bet she's gonna come again just from having her tits sucked."

She could feel the sergeant growing hard between her thighs, but then her nipples were singing with the touch and pull of lips, teeth, tongue, fingers. She gritted her teeth, humiliated by her lack of control of her own body. Then, her mouth parted in an involuntary moan.

The stubbled man was touching his cock to her thoroughly come-slicked pussy. But before he could even push inside, her moan shorted out, and her head rolled back against his shoulder as a climax unmade her.

The man in the driver's seat pushed into her while her cunt was still clenching with orgasm. He wasted no time, fucking her deep and hard. His cock was almost as enormous as his friend's, but it was well lubricated by the mess filling her and dripping down her thighs.

And there were the fingers of the blonde man, now on her clit as well as her nipples.

Khlia was only vaguely aware of when the door opened again, but there was a man outside, leaning on the roof of her car, and his cock was pointing towards her mouth invitingly from between the folds of his uniform trousers. He was lankier than the others, dark-skinned and clean shaven.

"Oh," she said. The monosyllable rang hot in her ears like the inanity of some porn bimbo, but she was momentarily lost for further words.

"Damn, this chick is in heat."

The new man smiled -- leered -- down at Khlia and touched a finger to her sweat-sheened hair. His cock tapped her cheek.

The challenge of giving it proper attention with her lips and tongue seemed beyond her at the moment, but the man made that problem irrelevant by taking her head between his hands and fucking her mouth with a sure grip and strokes that grew long and deep.

"Mmm! This nympho's got a nice tight throat."

Khlia's gullet and lungs struggled against the onslaught. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she was sure her makeup must be a mess. But then there was the mirror-image cock slamming into her cunt, filling her with warmth from her head to her toes. There were the hands all over her, plucking at her strings. After a while, it all seemed to melt together into one hazy feeling, pleasure and discomfort and shame all in one quivering ball of lightning behind her eyes.