It looked like an ordinary check point, one more in a series of small military outposts manned by various feuding factions, but when her Lebanese driver got down and handed over their papers to the soldier in fatigues, the officer beside him drew a pistol and shot the startled little man in the forehead. He tossed Connie's passport and travel documents aside, opened the door of the Jeep and pulled her out onto the sandy roadside. She landed n her hands and knees, rolled over and scrambled to her feet.
"You are a spy," he said and struck her in the face with his Glock, cutting her cheek, "a filthy, American spy."
Connie was wordless, shocked by her long-time driver's brutal killing and by the sudden attack. She stumbled back against the vehicle, hands raised as if to ward off another blow.
"Strap her to the spare," said the officer to the grinning men standing in the awning's shade behind him. "She must be good for something." He laughed. "Strip her ass."
Two burly soldiers hauled the well-known correspondent to the back of her vehicle, ignored her pleas and struggling and tied her wrists to the frame of the spare tire. Then they pulled off her loose-fitting trousers and tiny underpants and roped her knees to the car's steel bumper, spreading her legs widely so her feet were off the ground and her body stretched over the heavy spare.
"Stop," the young woman cried, struggling futilely. "What are you doing? I was invited here." She felt blood running down her face and dripping off her chin as her soft belly and famous breasts were pressed against the spare and one of her captors jabbed a thick finger into her seldom-used sex.
The officer holstered his pistol and pulled the narrow belt from Connie's camo britches. When his men were satisfied that the young woman was tightly secured with her bare buttocks raised and on display at the proper height for use, he stood to one side and gave her ten fast lashes with her belt, laying a series of wide stripes across her rounded buttocks and stretched thighs. The arched girl screamed steadily even after he stopped and tossed the belt away into the brush.
The smiling officer stood at her side, breathing hard, opened his britches and produced his sizeable cock, stroking it up to full erectness. "We are questioning a spy, that is what we are doing, you stupid bitch," he said, touching her torn cheek with the back of his fingers. "We have our own ways, you know, very effective ways." He patted her sore bottom.
Then he stepped behind her, spat on his hand, anointed his jumping manhood, grasped her by the stinging butt cheeks, dug his thumbs into her crack and rammed his cock into her undefiled anus, tearing though her sphincter and grunting with effort.
Connie screamed and writhed, bucking against her ropes as the officer grasped the collar of her shirt with both hands and yanked it open, jerking off most of the buttons in the process as he pulled it back over her shoulders.
Then her grabbed her full breasts and rammed again, getting a bit deeper into the young woman's body. He cried out in success and she groaned in pain as her body cavity began to yield, and he started moving his cock in and out of her tight but slippery grip as he mauled her breasts and twisted her nipples.
Connie gasped and gritted her teeth, turning her head to the side and seeing a half dozen dark men watching their officer's rutting performance, some of them with their hands at their groins, all of them smiling, obviously waiting their turn. It can't be, she said to herself, it's a bad dream. Then the pain hit her again as the cock in her rectum tore something open on the tenth or twelfth thrust up toward her colon.
"Tight bitch," said the officer loudly, and he smacked the girl on the side of her bruised butt and thrust still harder, getting his prick fully inserted, his hard belly tight against her injured buttocks, his swollen scrotum firmly up against her tight-lipped vulva. "Now," he cried, tearing off her small cotton bra roughly and grasping her left breast with one hand and the spare tire support with the other as he rammed repeatedly, ripping her open and tightly squeezing her large nipple as the heavy car bounced on its springs. He felt her warm blood on his rigid cock and hammered even harder, twisting and pulling her jutting tit.
"No, no, please, ' Connie cried, arching her back and pulling at her bound wrists as he was now fucking her rapidly, smacking their bodies together and mashing her against the tire and bumper, bruising her shins and battering her breasts and belly against the sun hot spare and its heavy bolts.
She struggled and squirmed, trying to free her hands as again and again her pubic mound was rammed against the spare tire and her wide spread thighs were strained and pulled apart, her shins bouncing off the bumper. The officer changed hands and began yanking on her other nipple, stretching it out, pinching as hard as he could as he rutted.
"Ugh, ugh, ugh," grunted the straining rapist, smiling at the watching soldiers and getting both hands braced on the metal framework. He leaned back as he gave Connie rapid half-foot thrusts, his toes braced on the rutted road and his eyes closed and teeth bared as he arched away from his victim and felt himself nearing the peak of his efforts, shaking the Jeep up and down as well as the tightly bound female.
Never had he been in such a luscious woman, never in such as tight and undulating ass. He was sure he was breaking a virgin and he was right. He changed his grip to her firm breasts as he neared his climax and uttered a cry of pleasure as he dug his fingers into her soft flesh and held his cock fully extended when the first spurt of his spend gushed into her.
Connie let her head sink until her forehead rested on the desert-hot spare. She closed her mind as best she could and tried to will herself to be elsewhere as she was pummeled and her tits twisted and mauled. She felt the soldier inside her jerk and ejaculate and heard his gasp of pleasure as he pulled out of her and wiped his spent prick on her stinging butt and trembling thigh.
"Sergeant," he said, patting the girl's firm rump and then stepping aside, his ram still dripping, proud of his extended performance, "enjoy yourself." Connie sobbed and sank against her bonds, knowing what was coming, wishing she could pass out. She could feel the man's spend oozing from her anus.
The officer put away his blood and shit-stained cock after wiping it on Connie's shirttail and stood beside the young woman as his sergeant grabbed her striped buttocks and thrust his heavy prick up into her tight-lipped and seldom-used vagina, ramming eight thick inches into the girl and pressing on her womb with the blunt head of his ridged weapon. He screamed out in pleasure, praising Allah.
The girl gasped and sobbed in pain and shock. He praised his god and bit at her shoulder as he arched his back and thrust again. He had raped perhaps a hundred women in the service of his merciless sultan but never an American and seldom a female so young and pretty. Her pussy reminded him of some of the children he had violated. As he began savage in and out thrusts, battering her with his 250 pounds of muscle, the officer produced a small notebook and calmly asked, "Where were you going, bitch?"
Connie spat in his face as she curled her hands into fists and tried to keep her body from being smashed against the spare tire. The man in her cunt was stretching her and yelling wildly as he accelerated and rammed at her cervix. No man had ever been so deep or fucked her so violently or caused such pain. Her sex seemed to be on fire, the skin was being rubbed from his shins and her nipples throbbed. Everything hurt.
The officer yanked her head back by the hair, spat into her left eye and torn cheek then shook her head back and forth, bouncing her skull off the spare three times and jarring her teeth. The sergeant never missed a beat, humming to his himself as he fucked the American spy, his hands full of her white buttocks, fingers dug so deeply into her pale flesh that it bled where his ragged nails cut her.
He yanked his hard cock out of her when he felt his balls boiling up and fired several gobs of his thick sperm across her buttocks and thighs with a cry of triumph.
Over the next hour, all the soldiers used Connie, several of them more than once and then most of them urinated on her legs before they untied her, ripped off her watch and gold necklace, strapped her forearms behind her, pawed at her out-thrust breasts, refused her pleas for water and pushed her into the back of her Jeep, wearing nothing but her boots and torn shirt, both her vulva and anus dripping sperm and blood. The captain got in beside her, pushed her down on the floor and put one his desert booted feet in the middle of her back.
The trip was not long, perhaps fifteen minutes before they stopped, the girl was dragged out on her face and bared chest, kicked and then hauled to her feet, hurried into a large tent and brought before the man she had been scheduled to interview, the Sultan of O'mal, Akmed ben Moor, the one called El Dragon, the reputed slayer of hundreds of innocents and raper of scores of virgins.
The captain made her kneel right at his merciless leader's knees and pushed her head down to the carpeted floor, handed over the girl's passport, saluted and left. Connie's face had stopped bleeding but her groin and thighs were covered with sperm and bloodstains and her shirt was buttoned only at its bottom, near her navel. Her tortured breasts were fully bared, still firm and upright but scratched and torn. She felt both shame and anger.
"Lift your head, infidel slut," said the fat man in the white caftan, gesturing with her blue passport. He spread his legs, pulled his long robe to his waist and produced a flabby male member of a purplish color. "Come," he demanded, "be useful while I decide what to do with you. You smell awful and your hair is a mess. I'd hardly recognize you." He laughed deep in his throat and waved his flabby cock at her. "I think we should burn you, slowly.' He chuckled.
Connie shook her head, looked up into his bearded face and said, "No, I won't do it." She quickly decided she had never seen a face so cruel or a cock so ugly.
The Sultan reached out, grabbed the reporter by her long ponytail and brought her face into his hairy groin so that his limp penis was pressed against her cheek and nose. "Suck, you stupid American whore," he growled, "or I'll throw you to the dogs. They haven't been fed today."
He grasped her nose and arched her head back so her mouth had to open and he then put his hardening prick on her tongue. "If I feel your teeth, American whore, I will have them removed, all of them, with the butt of a rifle. Suck, bitch." He rammed his hardening cock in until it hit the roof of her mouth and the entrance of her throat.
When she gagged and shuddered, he stopped pressing deeper and stroked his beard, his member pleasantly occupied, his other hand cupping his sagging testicles. He was enjoying the wide-eyed look on the white woman's face. The wealthy sultan was unusually proud of his manhood and his many conquests; he particularly enjoyed ripping open the children of his enemies with his thick male horn.
Connie sucked, doing her best to keep her tongue still and felt the gross man's penis begin to swell and lengthen in her mouth until it seemed enormous, and she gagged again and leaned away, shaking her head from side to side. It plopped free, looking a foot long and as wide as a water bottle as it bounced against her cheek and forehead. Connie was horrified and showed it, gasping in fright as the huge cock loomed before her eyes and rose still higher.
The Sultan laughed, grasped his purplish rod, smacked her in the face with it, stroked firmly and shot a rope of jism into the girl's hair from its heavily flanged and nearly beet red head. Then he kicked her aside and said, "Get back on your knees, eyes on the floor."
Connie used the tail of her tattered shirt, her only garment, to wipe some of foul cum from her face and sat back on her heels, head bowed, her lush breasts completely bare and showing the bruises she had gathered at the back of her Jeep and from the sand when she was dragged from the car.
"Constance Wilson Whitt," said the Sultan, reading her passport, "hm, twenty-three, Chicago, five-eight, brown eyes, brown hair, unmarried. The picture does not do you justice."
Connie kept her mouth closed, tasting the sweat and semen from the man's cock and trying not to imagine her future. She attemted to shrug her torn shirt together over her chest. She glanced up at the sultan's cruel face.
""You have insulted me, my kingdom and my religion. You must pay and you must repent."
Connie shook her head. "I did no such thing."
"We have your video camera and your cell phone. You can broadcast from here, can you not?"
"Good," he said, "I will have a script for you by this time tomorrow and you may do your broadcast and make your apology to all of Islam; then, well, then we shall see. Perhaps I will free you or sell you. Perhaps not. You appear to have a good body, a body that can be used pleasurably. Perhaps we can hunt you or let the dogs have you after you are no longer able to fuck. I have many men who would enjoy boning you and many sons as well. I think I would enjoy seeing you torn apart." He pressed a button built into the arm of his gold plated chair. "Perhaps we can teach you to be a better cocksucker."
A huge, dark man wearing a long sword, a leather bandolier and a blue loincloth that seemed to barely cover his dangling manhood entered and bowed. To the kneeling Connie he seemed a giant and his swaying penis looked like a ten-pound sausage.
"Take this female to my sons' quarters. You may use her once since they are at prayer."
The big man smiled and bowed, and then he took Connie by the upper arm and all but dragged her from the room. She had to run to keep up with him as they left the tent and walked across the sand to another, smaller tent. Since her arms were still tied behind her, she had trouble keeping up and fell twice.
Once inside, the giant discarded his wide loincloth and displayed his proud manhood, a thick snake of prodigious size, even bigger than the sultan's. Connie watched it fill and rise, horrified. He pushed her back over the arm of a lounge, kicked her feet apart and drove his long ram into her sore vagina, tearing apart her lips and spreading her more widely than ever before, ripping his way into her womb as he held her at the waist and pelvis.
The young woman screeched and kicked as the palace guard tensed his immense body and rammed his rigid cock in to the very hilt, pressing almost ten inches of iron-hard maleness into her, its huge head as big and hard as a golf ball and its shaft even wider than the head.
As he grunted and fucked, Connie tried not to think of what was happening to her vagina and to plan her escape. I still have my boots, she thought; I can run out into the desert, find a cave. There had to be a way since they were only twenty miles from the nearest town. She felt the thick, rigid member jerk and explode in her body and gritted her teeth as searing pain once again coursed through her groin and her feet were lifted from the rug covered floor.
Satisfied, the guard hauled her out, tossed her into the back of a pickup truck, pulled off her shoes and threw them out into the sandhills, slammed closed the tailgate and got into the cab. Connie, her arms still bound behind her, bounced from side to side, thought of jumping out but realized that she would probably kill herself if she did and ended up curled against the tailgate as the truck slid to a stop after jouncing across the desert for what seemed like several miles.
The huge guard opened the tailgate, pulled the girl to him by an ankle, looked about furtively and spread her legs as he dragged her back onto his jutting cock, her legs well up on his thick arms. He grasped her mounded breasts firmly and humped rapidly, bouncing Connie off the tailgate and truck bed, battering her roped arms and elbows as he rammed in and out of her sorely used cunny, bouncing the back of her head off the bed of the pick-up. He soon spurted again, wiped his huge cock on her belly hair and torn shirt, pulled the girl to her feet, and hurried her past a gasoline-powered generator and air conditioner into a square, stucco-walled building with high windows and a central court.
In the courtyard where, amazingly, a spurting fountain played, the smiling guard, his satisfied cock flapping loosely, strapped Connie to a pillar with a hemp cord about her neck and then got himself something drink and sat to smile at the ravaged young woman, stroking his long, flabby member and watching his thick spend ooze down the inside of her thighs. In a few minutes five men entered, all in European dress of dark trousers and short-sleeved white shirts. The oldest spoke briefly to the guard who bowed himself out, and then approached the frightened girl as the giant left with a final smirk at the violated captive, his thick cock in his hand.
"Connie Whitt of CNN, Connie the cunt," he said, fingering the cut on her cheekbone. "I recognize you despite the filth and the bruises. What happened to your cheek?" He twisted her injured left nipple and smiled. "I recognize these too, a fine pair." He smacked both of her firm boobs and grinned toward his brothers as her breasts jiggled and bounced. "My my. Won't we have fun. These are some of my brothers. Faisal over there is the youngest, just fourteen, so we will let him have you first. He's never raped an American. At least not that I know of." He laughed and twisted her other nipple, smiling at her.
"She's so dirty," said the slight young man, "let's throw her in the fountain first, make her wash herself."
"Good idea, boy," said the oldest brother, unstrapping Connie from the post and hurrying her to the round basin which was about six inches deep and edged with marble, his hand gripping the back of her neck. He pushed her in on her face and said, "Wash, pig. Get yourself clean. Rinse out your cunt and ass hole as well."
"I can't," Connie blubbered, dragging herself up to her knees. "My arms are tied."