Escape From Buggery Ch. 11

Her answer came fairly soon, and in full sight of the other soldiers loading the vehicles. She and Buttercup were dragged onto the ground by their hair, her roots stinging from the rough tugging, and then the two of them were brutally raped. At least, she assumed it was rape, even though Buttercup had, in a very real and genuine sense, asked for it. But this wasn’t making love. It wasn’t even like the rough sex she’d sometimes had on a bad date. Or like the drunken fucking she’d had when she’d told the bloke she was with to fuck off. This was brutal, violent and animal. They were forcibly penetrated with no preparation at all. First Buzzcock into Buttercup and then Jello into her. She was so dry down there. And it hurt. And she was punched when she struggled. And then it was more cock in her cunt. And cock in her arse. And then a slap round the face. And after more minutes of unpleasant, disgusting forced penetration, sperm squirted into her mouth and eyes.

And then it was over. The soldiers had had enough. They buttoned up their trousers, which they had only lowered to their knees in all the time. “Now fuck off!” commanded Buzzcock.

Tracey and Buttercup picked up their bruised bodies. Tracey left with a small trickle of blood down her thighs that had been drawn from her anus, and a fresh bruise upswelling on her chin. Buttercup had sustained a cut lip and one eye was strangely swollen as a bruise began to form. Her hair was disordered and she seemed even more shocked than Tracey. It occurred to her through her own misery that Buttercup, being the so much more attractive of the two girls, had almost certainly received more attention than she. And that somehow the more attractive a girl was, the more determined the soldiers had been that she should suffer.

Tracey put an arm around Buttercup who was weeping and occasionally coughing, small traces of blood spitting out onto her cheek. They turned around and walked along the road. They hadn’t walk any distance however, when Jello jumped in front of them with a snarl.

“Fuck! Don’t you fucking Buggery bitches know fucking anything! This is a fucking road. Yeah! A fucking road! And so it’s not for the likes of you fucking whores. If you don’t want us to fucking shoot you, stay off the fucking road. In case you ignorant cows didn’t know, roads are for fucking men only. You bitches stay off the road, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Where do we go?” sobbed Buttercup, strangely subdued.

“I don’t fucking know! You wanted to come to Gomorrah, didn’t you. We didn’t have to let you through. Anywhere. As long as it’s not on a fucking road. Or a fucking town. Or a fucking city. You bitches ain’t got no rights.”

“Sorry?” asked Tracey, sure that she’d misunderstood something.

“You don’t know fuck shit! Let me spell it out for you. You’re in the Democratic Fucking Republic of Fucking Gomorrah! You’re fucking bitches! That means you’ve got no fucking constitutional rights. No fucking consti-fucking-tutional rights at all! No fucking women, bitches, whores, girls or dykes have rights. Not to clothes. Not to possessions. Not to fucking anything. Keep your nose clean and keep out of men only areas!”