Somebody's Daughter

He looked down at the girl.

She had large, brown appealing eyes and a nice trim figure, but did that really matter considering the circumstances? Wasn't he happy to take any woman, young or old, large or small? Anything to relieve the tension, try to lighten his fear. He knew he would never get rid of that fear. The most he could hope for was to push it into the background.

This girl could do it; at any rate, for a few minutes. His unit had swept through the village and were checking the simply-built, one level house. He wouldn't be missed for a few minutes. He should strip her, force open her legs and enter her; swiftly, brutally with no thought or feeling or compassion. After all, this was war. All's fair in love and war. Except there was no love, but there certainly was war; a living, never-ending hell.

He should take her. This could be his last chance. He could step out of the door and be cut down by a bullet with his name on it. Or blown into smithereens by a mine or bomb.

She had such appealing eyes. Appealing. As in pleading. Begging to be spared.

He wanted her. His erection was pushing against his trousers. He needed a release. She could give it to him. That was her whole purpose in life, wasn't it? To provide sexual solace for a man about to die. But he knew he was wrong. Even as he had the thought he knew that there was more to this girl than that. She wouldn't be a comfort girl; she would be a victim of rape.

He looked down at the girl.

He had half a mind to walk away from her, but this was no time for any of that humanitarian bullshit. She was his to do with as he wanted; and he knew what he wanted.

Pointing his gun at her head he began to unfasten his trousers using his free hand. She lay on the ground staring up at him, the light of hope leaving her eyes until they became dull and dead. She knew what her fate would be. He dropped his trousers and pulled down his underwear, wriggling out of them without taking his eyes off the girl. His penis stood out from his body, proud and stiff. Boy, this slut was going to get the best fuck of her life.

She was wearing a simple dress and there were no fastenings visible. Not to worry. There was a large pair of sewing scissors on a table. He picked them up and bent over the girl. She pulled back in terror.

"Stay still, girl!" he growled.

She wouldn't understand the words, but might get the idea as he pulled the dress between the blades of the scissors and slowly cut all the way up. The dress fell open. Beneath was a plain shift and no sign of a bra. He could see her breasts straining against the thin material. Repeating the action with the scissors the shift went the way of the dress; it was like peeling a banana.

He chuckled at the thought. "Haven't had one of them for a while."

Nor had he been given the opportunity to fuck a woman; not until now. She wore panties, plain like the shift. He cut them open and her full nakedness was revealed. Pert breasts with dark areola surrounding little pink buds, and a trim dark bush matching her hair. She was young - nineteen or twenty, he thought - and ripe for plucking.

There was no time for finesse. He was ready - the stiff cock bore witness to that - and she had better be bloody ready or else it would hurt. But he didn't care. It was up to her to get the juices flowing and make his passage easier. He pushed her legs apart, roughly rubbed her labia a few times in a pretence of arousing her, and then plunged in.

She was too dry. She cried out; almost a scream, really, but he took no notice and continued pushing in. His hands were locked onto her breasts and she had to combat the pain from his grip as well as that engendered by his hard cock brutally penetrating her vagina. She raked his face with her finger nails and he pulled back.

"Damn you, that hurt!" he cried.

He slapped her face on each cheek using his forehand first, then the backhand. She screamed again and began to squirm beneath him, trying to pull away, but he was holding her too tightly. She was also impaled. It was a brief and useless struggle which she soon abandoned.

"That's better. Lie back and enjoy it. That's the usual line, isn't it?"

He continued to thrust and push, jamming his whole length into her vagina. The girl lay still offering neither resistance nor help. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling and her face was blank of emotion, except for a little frown that appeared every time he jabbed into her. Her pussy was devoid of lubrication and the soldier felt his cock chafing against her dry labia.

"Come on, baby," he growled. "Loosen up. God, you've got a tight cunt. Not many visitors in here, eh?"

He grunted with the effort of slamming into her. His balls hit against her crotch as he rhythmically drove in and out. Slap - slap - slap. He was picking up speed. The girl beneath him clutched his arms tightly in an effort to steady her body. She began to emit little cries of pain as he ruthlessly tore into her delicate vagina.

"I hate this fucking war!" he snarled. "I hate this fucking country! I hate the fucking people!"

He was taking all his hate out on this one helpless girl. Her cries were becoming louder, but he took no notice. He didn't care how much she was suffering. Forward - back; forward - back. There was little sign of enjoyment on his face, which was screwed up with anger. The pleasure was all in hurting her.

He stopped his pummelling long enough to shift his position, grab her ankles and haul her ass up until she was resting on her shoulders. He held her legs wide exposing her cunt as far as possible. The labia were reddened and puffy. He looked at his stiff cock as it disappeared inside her. She squealed like a stuffed pig as he drove in. The soldier smiled grimly at the image.

Yes; a stuffed pig.

But he was going too fast. He was almost on the point of coming and it was too soon. He needed to show some discipline and slow down. He knew he'd only get one shot at this. There was no time for lingering. It was dangerous around here.

He suddenly pulled out of the girl. In one fluid movement he hauled her up from the floor, flipped her over and lowered her down. She automatically put her hands on the ground and bent her legs to prevent her face, breasts and mons pubis from being scraped on the hard floor. As a result she assumed the doggy position. It was an inviting sight and he took no time in accepting the invitation.

"Bloody perfect," the soldier muttered.

He nudged her legs apart with his knee and fingered her cunt. He imagined there were signs of wetness; but it was probably only imagination. Without more ado he entered her once more. By this time she was sobbing and moaning.

Bending over her he fingered her clit as he drove in. He could see her tits swinging to and fro. That sight alone was a turn-on. He kept ramming in. The sobbing began to die away.

The girl gasped. This time it wasn't a scream and the sound didn't portray pain. On the contrary, her vagina was rapidly becoming wet, lubricating her passage for his cock. She began to rock her hips, urging him to go deeper.

"Yes!" he cried in triumph

There was a series of guttural sounds coming from the girl, unintelligible to him, but by the cries and tone he was able to translate them into....

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder! Harder!"

He obliged.

She thrashed around beneath him alternately gasping, crying, moaning and shouting. It seemed as if he simply couldn't get far enough into her. He had always fancied he could offer satisfaction to any woman, but suddenly his confidence was seriously diminished. This slip of a girl needed more. She was responding to every thrust of his cock and he pounded her as hard and as fast as he could, determined that he would bring her off.

"Oh,oh,oh!" she cried.

"Huh, huh, huh!" he grunted.

She began to work at her clit; he began to knead her breasts, pinching the tits. Faster and faster he humped her.

And then suddenly.

"Aaaaaah!" gasped the soldier.

"Ooooooh" moaned the girl.

Her vagina was flooded with his semen

He withdrew. She whipped round and ran her tongue along the length of his cock, licking off the mixture of his semen and her vaginal juices. Having done that she then enclosed it in her mouth, managing to take nearly its whole length.

She greedily sucked and licked, licked and sucked. After giving his all he usually deflated within seconds, but the girl's ministrations were keeping him hard. Hell, in no time at all he would be ready to enter her again.

He did.

She was on her back again, legs spread wide and juices flowing. This time there was less urgency. He was able to take his time because she was willing and co-operating in his rape of her.

Rape?

Did it qualify for that any more? She was urging him on. She wanted it; wanted him. His cock sank into the warm depths of her vagina, the whole length disappearing inside her. It felt good. The fighting and killing outside could be forgotten. Here, at this moment, with this girl, there was peace and tranquillity; love and warmth; a heaven to be cherished. Here, at this moment, they were the only two people on earth, brought together by death and destruction, and safe in the harbour of their intimacy.

He was going to come again. Twice within ten minutes! A record for him. He thrust, retreated; thrust, retreated in a steady rhythm, gradually building in pace. The girl was giving little gasps of pleasure with each thrust. He wanted to keep going forever, but he knew that the inevitable would shortly happen. He could barely manage to hold on any longer.

Thrust, retreat; thrust, retreat; thrus......

"Aaaaaah!"

"Ooooooh!"

They both slowly keeled over until they were lying on their sides. He was still inside her, his semen mixing with her juices. A life-giving recipe.

"God, that was good!" murmured the soldier.

The girl responded in an unintelligible, but similar way.

He lightly ran his finger around the contours of her face, down her neck and then between her breasts to her crotch. She shuddered at his touch. His cock was still surprisingly hard, although he could feel it slowly withering inside her. He circled her clit and began to rub. Her relaxed body stiffened a little as she reacted to his touch.

"You're a damned sweet little thing. And bloody sexy, too. You're up for it again, aren't you? Don't think I am though. Twice in quick succession is too much for me. Could have done it before when I first got married. Me and Kara went at it like bloody rabbits." The girl sighed as his cock left her vagina empty; except, of course, for his semen which slowly dribbled out and down her leg.

"Got a kid," he continued. "You know that? Of course you bloody well don't. Know nothing about me, d'you? She's six years old now. I miss her and Kara like hell. This damned war!"

He felt the girl's hand on his cock. She began to stroke it, willing it back into life.

"No good, love. It's dead. Bloody dead. Never get stiff again."

She was beginning to prove him wrong.

"Blow me! You've got magic hands, all right." He grinned. "Right desperate for a good fucking, aren't you?"

She continued working on him and his cock began to swell. He leaned forward and kissed her nipples, then pulled her breasts, first one then the other, into his mouth. They were small enough to fit inside. Her hand slid up and down, round and round. It took five minutes before it was ramrod straight, but by that time he was ready again and she was wet with desire.

He entered her.

Thrust - retreat; thrust - retreat; thrust - retreat -

He looked down at the girl.

He fought a battle between conscience and lust as he fantasised about taking her. It was as difficult a conflict as the one raging outside. As he studied her an image of his daughter, Marie, came to him. Not as she was now, aged six, but grown up; eighteen, nineteen. Just like this girl. What would he feel if it was Marie lying here at the mercy of a brutalised soldier who thought nothing of raping her? He'd want to kill the bastard, he knew that.

This girl was no different to Marie. Stiff with fear, a terrified look on her face, knowing exactly what was going to happen to her.

No. No, not this time. After all, she was somebody's daughter.

The soldier turned away.

He was in the doorway when the girl plunged a knife into his throat. In shock and amazement he slowly turned to look at her with wide, horrified eyes. They were already misting over and she was only a blur, her features distorted. He sank down onto his knees.

The girl pulled out the knife and blood began to pour out of the wound. He would be dead in a couple of minutes. She wiped the knife on a rag and stepped around him. Pausing for a moment she looked at him with burning eyes, then spat at him.

Quickly ensuring the way was clear, she ran off leaving her victim gurgling and immobile. There was nothing he could do; an expert had killed him. The girl had been skilfully taught by her father; a guerrilla leader.