A Girl Behind Enemy Lines Ch. 01

Megan tried to stay calm as the piston-mounted dildo began to throb and hum. Pvt. Nickels turned the control dial slowly and the massive silicone phallus began to pump in and out of her vagina. The shaft was nine inches long and three inches in diameter. She hung by her wrists from the ceiling fan, her toes just barely touching the ground in her two-inch high heels. She wore nothing aside from the shoes, her earrings, a few rings and bracelets and the choke collar fastened around her neck. One of her ankles was tied to a bedpost eight feet away. Her other ankle was tied to the hanger rack in her closet on the opposite side of the room. The ropes were stretched taut and her legs were spread uncomfortably far apart, remaining just barely close enough for her to remain standing.

She stared ahead blankly in disbelief while the soldiers invading her home subjected her to arrest, a summary trial and a speedy sentencing while they stripped, fondled and ogled her body. Megan was only nineteen, an innocent college student on break after her freshman year. Nobody would have expected her to have a clear grasp of the local military situation. She knew there was a civil war in progress, but she had no idea that the front lines had shifted so rapidly nor that she was suddenly on the wrong side of them.

Megan was a skinny, athletic brunette with shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. She was proud of her modest but hard-earned suntan and her firm, well-muscled legs. She had played basketball in high school but these days she mostly kept in shape by running. She had broken things off with her boyfriend six months prior and she was practically starved for sex though she rarely thought about it consciously.

"Read it." Pfc Fleming thumped his cat o'nine tails against his thigh impatiently as he held a sheet of paper in front of Megan's face. She was so dazed she could barely focus her eyes, much less make any sense of the absurd things scrawled on the paper before her. Her mouth gaped open as she stammered.

"I... I"

A loud thwack resounded through the bedroom and down the hallway. The multiple thongs of Fleming's whip broke her skin with a single stroke, leaving several bleeding cuts on the naked flesh of her breasts.

"YEEAARRRGHHHH OHHHHH ohhhhhh ohhhhhhohhhh!!"

Megan trembled and moaned for well over two minutes.

"Get ahold of yourself, slut! We just need you to read this out loud for us! One quick read, and I won't have to whip you again. Come on, we don't have all fucking day!"

The piston-mounted dildo thrust up and down steadily, violating her cunt as she wailed and struggled to retain balance and ease the strain on her sore, aching wrists.

Megan truly had no idea about the nature of the strange mechanical contraption the soldiers had brought into her home until the very moment it was inside her pussy. In the back of her mind she had known that rape was a foregone conclusion from the moment the troops burst through her kitchen door. She failed to realize however that rape was the least of her worries.

Tears streamed down her face as Fleming's words began to register in her mind. She didn't want to get hit again. Her tits were burning like fire from the cuts left by Fleming's cruel leather disciplinary instrument.

Pvt. Nickels remained at the sex machine's controls as he observed Fleming's efforts to persuade the girl to speak. He turned up the dial and lit up a cigarette. Fleming sighed and raised the lash, keeping the paper close to Megan's face.

The poor young girl jerked with panic and terror in response to Fleming's movements and the sudden acceleration of the piston pounding in and out of her pussy. She stared intently at the paper and began to force the written words out of her mouth in desperate, halting gasps. Cpl Barrington adjusted his squad's camera as it rested on its tripod.

"I... Hello master, m... my name is Megan Warner, and I'm a filthy, horny little slut! P... please fuck me raw master, sir! I... I w..want you to fuck me hard and fast in all of my holes! I... I love sucking cock and I love..."

She hesitated for seven seconds. The soldiers couldn't tell if she was choking on her lines or simply trying to catch her breath.

The lash fell on her tits again. The crack sounded like a muffled gunshot.

"OHHHHHHHHAAAGHH MMMM!!! RRRGHHHHHH OH HO HUUUUUh ooohhhh!!"

Fleming wasn't satisfied.

"Please just try and be a little bit convincing. Is that too difficult for you, you stupid fucking whore? Jesus Christ."

He spat in her face disgustedly before putting down the script in order to light up a cigarette. He puffed away disinterestedly for a moment before placing the cigarette in his left hand, then putting his left arm around Megan's shoulders.

"I think there's a lot of promise in you, Megan." he spoke in a confidential tone, exhaling smoke into her face. He tapped his cigarette with his fingers, knocking hot ashes onto Megan's neck, shoulder and breast. Megan winced and jerked her body helplessly in his embrace.

"I wouldn't pay for you, but you're going to make some lucky platoon very happy. You might be worth a whole carton of cigs, maybe more. But you won't be worth a fucking breath of secondhand if you make us put a lot of marks on you before you've even started your training. So please, start acting like a big girl and... you know... actually do your part to comfort and please these weary troops. It will be your job from here on out, and the sooner you start obeying us the easier your life will be. You understand?"

He removed his arm from around her neck, took another drag and blew the smoke into Megan's eyes. They stung and watered but she tried her best to focus on the script as he picked it up and displayed it to her once more.

"The standard acknowledgment is at the bottom. We say anything to you, you say this line back to us. Well? Fucking say it, bitch!"

Megan narrowed her eyes and tried to make out the letters through the haze of smoke.

"Y... yes master, sir. Th.. thank you master, sir! I live to serve and pleasure you!"

Fleming, Nickels and Barrington chuckled together. Fleming beamed with a smug glow of triumph.

"Finally, the bitch is starting to learn her place! Now let's start over, from the beginning. Read, cunt! And don't forget the 'yes, sir!'"

Megan returned to her task obediently and without hesitation.

"Yes master, sir. Thank you master, sir. I live to serve and pleasure you." She continued from the top of the page.

"Hello master! My name is Megan Warner, and I'm a filthy, horny little slut! Please f... fuck me r-raw master, sir! I want... want you to fuck me hard and fast in all of my holes! I love sucking cock and I love licking balls. I also enjoy eating pussy in front of an audience, so if it pleases you to watch me get another girl off then I'm your girl! I also love being degraded, humilated and drenched in cum!"

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as she read the filthy, barely comprehensible script. She knew that she was going to have to go through with all of the activities she was describing, and she could only begin to imagine what else lay in store for her. As her mind wandered over the prospect of future torments she failed to notice just how deeply and intensely aroused her body was becoming. The mechanical dildo pumped out of her dangling body with steadily increasing velocity as she teetered on her heels and tiptoes. The soldiers could tell from the distant look in her eyes that she was curious about carrying out the promises she was making. She was practically looking forward to being gang-raped in the mouth or even pleasuring another lady for the amusement of her tormentors.

Nickels scribbled some notes onto a pad. He looked at Fleming for an instant.

"I think we can put this one down as 'curious', Nick. Priority five. She'll lick pussy tonight, but she probably won't be ready to dom her first bitch for two or three weeks."

Megan had no idea what they were talking about, but she understood "She'll lick pussy tonight" well enough. The sex toy jerked in and out of her cunt ever faster as Nickels twiddled the dial.

Fleming put out his cigarette, reached for a stack of papers and presented another sheet for Megan to read. "Alright, good girl. Hope you've got a good memory, because you're going to have to recite those lines every day without a script to help you. But since you're finally catching on, I'll tell you what: I think you're ready for the disciplinary script. This one is a lot of fun."

Megan stared at the paper in front of her in a bewildered daze as the shaft wiggled in and out of her pussy on its mechanical appendage. Loud squishing, sobbing sounds filled the room as the machine plowed through her dripping wet pussy. The poor girl had only had sex with four partners over the course of her lifetime, and none of them could hold a candle to the device now wracking her body with quivering spasms of pleasure. For all she could tell it was thicker than all of their cocks put together, yet in this stressful situation it was causing her relatively mild discomfort.

The poor young student was rapidly approaching climax. Her overstimulated clit and labia tingled with excitement as she read the degrading, demeaning and poorly written script.

"P.... please discipline me, master! I am a filthy, shameless whore and I am too stupid to comprehend morality. P... pain is the only language I understand, master... sir! Please... educate me by wh-whipping my cunt and my tits! The pain will make me horn... horny... b... but I... p..."

She choked and sobbed for an instant. Fleming reached for a leather riding crop. The instrument wasn't nearly as intimidatingly barbaric as the cat o'nine tails, but Megan would learn to respect its sting.

"but I.. pro-promise n...not to come without permission, master... sir."

There were plenty of unread sentences remaining on the paper, but the soldiers decided that she had fully earned the right to experience their discipline. The riding crop slapped loudly against Megan's clit. She yelped and leaned backwards, her cunt still impaled on the machine-mounted sex toy.

Her eyes darted a few lines down on the paper. He struck her crotch three more times in quick succession while she stammered the appropriate (and mandatory) response.

"Thank you very much for disciplining me, master... sir! I love it when you... when you whip my pussy! I love feeling the sting of leather against my clitoris when you flog me because it makes me so wet and horny!"

The forced lines were so bafflingly stupid that she failed to realize that she was in fact telling the truth. The painful but bearable stinging sensation in the most tender and sensitive part of her body somehow rendered the rough mechanical fucking even more pleasurable. Her clitoris peeped out as if trying to eagerly greet the riding-crop in mid-swing. Her vaginal fluids flowed freely and her pussy was dripping her body's natural lubricant onto the floor beneath her.

"Good... keep going!" Fleming shouted as he continued to strike at her crotch. Her bare, exposed cunt lips tingled with delight and expectation as she pouted and moaned in helpless, humiliating ecstasy.

"Ughhhh! Oh! OW! Yeow!" She yelped as the soldier suddenly began to strike harder and with increasing eagerness. He kept the paper by his side, hoping Megan would begin to make progress toward memorizing the filth she would hereafter be forced to recite loudly and shamelessly every single day of her life. As the rain of blows faltered for an instant she caught her breath and repeated her lines.

"Thank you so much for disciplining me master, sir! I love it when you whip my pussy! I love having my clit flogged because it makes me wet and horny!"

It wasn't perfect, but she was making progress.

Megan kept her eyes forward, but if she looked down she would have been amazed at how red and swollen her pubic mound and pussy lips were becoming. It would be a long time before she could bear to look at her own body during disciplinary sessions. Soon she would be picking up quite a few lasting scars and bruises.

"Beautiful!" Fleming exclaimed as he returned the crop to a position affixed to his belt. "Care to finish her off, boys?"

Nickels adjusted the machine's dial to setting number eight. This wasn't the maximum setting, but nine and ten generally offered more thrust than any girl particularly needed. Eight was enough to leave a girl's whole lower body numb after five to seven minutes of riding. Nickels and Barrington rose from their seats and approached the helpless nude girl as she dangled from the ceiling fan. She wailed as the machine assaulted her vagina, cycling in and out of her with the fury of a machine gun. Her legs went limp and she dangled helplessly by the wrists. Fleming hoped silently that she didn't tear the fan out of the ceiling. The house would still be worth quite a bit if the army managed to leave it intact.

Fleming took a seat while his two comrades began to fondle and grope their victim. Megan continued to scream helplessly under the machine's assault.

"Ohhhh oh ho ho oohhh whooaaaaaa! Mmmmmm oohhhhh mmm mmm mmpph mpphh mmmooohwoooow OHHH OHHHH WHOA OHHHHH OOOOOOOHHH MMM OHHHH!!!"

Barrington flicked at her clitoris with his fingers, rubbing gently at first. He crept slowly downward, massaging her cunt lips and using the pussy juice oozing around her hole and the shaft that penetrated it to make his fingers slick and damp. Then while Nickels toyed with her labia Barrington returned his fingers to her clit, rubbing progressively harder and faster.

After two and a half minutes of probing fingers and brutal mechanical pounding, nineteen-year-old Megan Warner's body gave in and she shook violently from a powerful orgasm.

"Suck their fingers and lick them clean, slut." Fleming barked from his chair while Barrington and Nickels took turns shoving their hands into her mouth. She accepted them without a struggle, even licking gently with her tongue in a feeble attempt to demonstrate eagerness. She knew that she belonged to them. In the back of her mind she understood that when these men became tired of her, whoever ended up in charge of her could only be far worse.

His fingers soaked in Megan's vaginal fluids and saliva, Pvt. Nickels returned to his seat at the piston machine's controls. He lowered the dial to two and the shaft's velocity dropped instantly. The dildo now moved so slowly that it took three seconds to plunge into Megan's cunt and pull back out again. The art of operating the machine was a subtle, refined craft. Nickels' objective was to tease his subject with the hope of respite without allowing her arousal to diminish. With the machine still inside her she wouldn't dare to relax.

Fleming rose from his seat again. He had another sheet of paper in his hands. He pressed it roughly into Megan's face before pulling it back just far enough for her to read. He tapped his foot impatiently and she knew she had to speak again. She scanned the lines and cleared her sore, overused throat.

"Th.. thank you for letting me come, master. I am sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I am such a lewd, wanton, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body. Please punish me, master. I long to be disciplined and I promise that I will not come again without permission master, sir."

Fleming placed his hand under her jaw and caressed her cheek gently. He brushed a few strands of hair out of Megan's eye. Then he pulled his hand back and slapped her across the jaw. There was an important lesson Megan needed to learn.

"I'm not sure if you got it, baby. Start repeating it and don't stop."

"Thank you for letting me come, master! I am sorry that I came without permission! I am sorry that I am such a lewd, wanton, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body master, sir."

The absurd lines stung her pride more painfully with each repetition. She hated this part of the experience far more than the lashing or the begging. She understood exactly what message the men were trying to drive home: her body had failed her and now she had to bear responsibility, apologize and accept punishment for a bodily function that was hardly within her control. It was at this moment that she truly began to understand the concept of shame for the first time.

Fleming and his comrades continued to stare intently. When he told her not to stop he really meant it.

"Thank you for letting me come, master. I am sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I'm such a lewd, depraved little whore. I am sorry that I have no control over my own slutty body master, sir."

Nickels slowly began to ramp up the speed once more. Megan's soft, quaking voice began to subside against the rising volume of the piston as her pussy endured another round of violation. The stares of her captors indicated to her that she wouldn't be allowed to stop speaking just yet.

"Thank you for letting me come master, sir. I am very sorry that I came without permission. I am sorry that I'm such a lewd, wanton whore. I am sorry that I can't control my slutty little body, master... sir!"

Nickels adjusted the speed to setting number four, or roughly two cycles per second. Fleming unlocked her handcuffs and caught her as she tumbled forward. He gripped her by her hair as she continued to ramble.

"Than... thank you for letting me come master, sir. I said thank you... Please... thank you for letting me come, master! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Fleming gripped her weak, tired arms and forced them behind her back, cuffing her hands together again. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Sorry for what, cunt?"

"F.. for coming, master."

"Just for coming?"

"F-for coming without permission, master- sir."

"Do you promise to tell us when you're about to come from now on?"

"Yes, master." He slapped her hard across the face and she shrieked.

"AIEEE!! I... I mean, I promise to tell you when I'm about to come, master sir!"

"And do you promise to ask us for permission?"

"I... I promise to ask you for permission every time I come, master... sir!"

"There's a good girl. I think you're just about ready to get us off."

He let go of the girl and she sank to her knees. She could tell from the silence that he expected her to say something.

He slapped her in the face once more.

"Aaaaahh ow! Please, master! How may I serve you? How may I pleasure you? Please, just tell me what you want!"

Fleming just glared at her.

"I... mean.... please tell me what you want, master, sir!"

Fleming's expression softened. He motioned to Barrington, who produced from his backpack a large plastic ring with two leather straps attached to it. He handed the apparatus to Fleming, who strode behind Megan's kneeling figure and shoved the ring into her mouth, fixing the straps from behind before she had a chance to react. Now her jaw was stretched open painfully, her teeth straining against the curve of the ring that forced them apart. She knew now that she was going to have to suck cock, and she dreaded that she would be forced to do so for a very long time.

Nickels turned the piston machine's dial down to zero and rose from his seat. He generally forced captives to stand up during their first tryst with the machine. He found that forcing women to undergo mechanical rape while standing upright had a primal, animalistic impact upon their psyches. They had to learn quickly that no physical position and no particular activity or task could provide them any respite from their tedious lives of endless, mindless boning. But now that Megan had experienced rape in the standing position, it was a simple matter to adjust the machine's arm in order to service her while she kneeled. She even exhaled a sigh of relief when Nickels inserted the tip of the phallus back into her cunt, for she craved any possible distraction from the grueling task that lay ahead of her. The soldiers noticed her inappropriately accommodating reaction and enjoyed a loud, rioutous laugh at her expense.