Daughter? No that is a very old snapshot. I keep it on top of my desk to remind me of what it cost me sit at this desk. People in your country think that we grind the peasants and live without a care. That is not true. Military people like myself keep this country together. And before we received positions of leadership, our predecessors made sure we had the same dedication that they displayed. I test the younger officers for dedication, as well. I pray that they will continue the dedication and the testing.

When I took this picture I was a new first lieutenant. I had been through one minor campaign in the South and studied at your School of the Americas. Then I was sent to command a platoon in the West where the real fighting was.

We swept up to one village in helicopters. They tried to run but we landed on all four sides. We followed standard procedures, moving everyone into the square, tying the men and boys, lining them all up, searching the houses.

My captain asked several matrons where their husbands were. When one couldn't answer, he knew he had the wife of a rebel. The second in command had a taste for young girls. Once I'd made my choice, rank wouldn't override it. I reached Consuela, the girl in the picture, before the soldiers had dragged a bed out of the largest house. I spoke to her while they were tying the matron to the corners of the bed.

"Do you want that?" Clearly she didn't. "I could take you there in front of everybody. Your fiance would know that you resisted." I assumed she had a fiance or intended. I also assumed he was with the rebels. There were five women thirteen to thirty for every man that age.

Tears were streaming down her face while the matron was stripped. "Please, please, no." The captain got between the matrons legs and enjoyed her struggles for a moment. Soon, however, he signaled the man with the cattle prod. The shock hits them so hard that they take a moment to scream, and he entered her in that pause. From where the prisoners stood, it looked as though his entry had caused that scream.

"I could take you there. Do you want that, or do you want to be my sweetheart. We can be alone in a house, only I will see your body, I'll be gentle with you, your friends and family won't see a thing. Is that what you want?" She was looking hopeful. "Would you rather be my sweetheart? I have to hear you say it."

She nodded. I waited. "I will be your sweetheart."

"Then you have to act the part of a sweetheart, you have to court me as I court you." She nodded again and hung her head. I didn't push for words that time.

During my study in your country, I learned many things; but this, the most important, I learned in a social setting rather than a classroom. I saw an instructor's wife deal with her son. "Do you want to take Fuzzy Bear to bed with you, or Snoopy?" Clearly, the boy didn't want to go to bed at all. But, given a choice, he made a choice. That is how to deal with these girls. Give them a choice. Then they are participating. She asked me to take her virginity in privacy.

I asked her what house had been her family's and told the first sergeant to assign it to me. Since it was far from the best, no one would object.

My platoon was left in the village while two others marched off into the forest, and a third provided cover. Duty took me away from Consuela for a while, but my platoon provided the guard over the women. They wouldn't 'forget' that I had claimed her for my own.

After dinner, I set my sentries and then went to fetch her. On the short walk to her old house I asked her age, and she told me that she was three months shy of sixteen. After she showed me which bed had been hers, I set a bright electric lantern to light that area. She helped me off with my boots and shirt. Then it was time for her to undress. She was reluctant.

"If I have to tie you down, it will be on the bed in the square. And I can still gather an audience." This started her moving, but she still blushed deeply. By the time she was naked, the blush had reached her breasts. These were somewhat larger than you would expect for fifteen, but still had the firmness of that age. Once she was naked, she hurried into the bed. Before I could follow her, there was a shriek from down the street. Someone was moving faster than I.

This stiffened her body while it quelled any interest she had in conscious resistance. "Please be gentle," she begged.

"I will be gentle, but you must cooperate. Gentleness cannot work if you fight everything." She lay there accepting my mouth on hers and my hands on her breasts. I kissed her mouth and sucked her breasts. There was a small tussle when I parted her legs, but it was more within her than between us. What I found between those legs, however, was nearly dry. In the end, my gentleness consisted mostly of spreading Vaseline.

When I was against her entry, I felt that muscles weren't the only tightness resisting me. It was no surprise. Those village mothers try hard to guard a daughter's virginity. By this time there were at least two others down the street sobbing hard enough for us to hear. "It hurts much less if you push back against me," I told her. She nodded and started to raise herself. Then I drove in. I tore her and lodged myself halfway in with that first thrust. She cried out but not loud enough to be heard down the street. "That was the worst of it," I said. I waited while she tensed for the next thrust and while she relaxed. Then I thrust to the bottom.

Fully within her, I took time to kiss away her tears. "That hurt," she said.

"I never said that it wouldn't. You knew it would. It hurts every woman the first time. But do you think that you hurt as much as those you hear crying?"

"Not really."

"I did what hurts least, and I told you how to make it better. Now I'm going to start moving again. Do you want it to last, or do you want it to be over quickly?"

"Please, as soon as possible."

"Then you have to cooperate now. You have to widen your legs so I can move freely. Hold my thighs and pull me to you. That way it will end quickly."

I kissed her before I began moving. She whimpered a little as my organ brushed her torn flesh, but she sucked my tongue as I drove back and forth in that tight, newly opened, tunnel. True to my word, I made no effort to hold back. I sped up as soon as she relaxed enough to let me, and soon I drove all the way into those depths again and pulsed within her.

Despite what I said about tying her down, I took the precaution of handcuffing one arm to the bed frame. She slept in my arms all night.

One must balance the physical with the psychological. That conquest had been a glory in both senses. I had controlled her, occupied her mind -- as we occupied the villages -- before occupying her body. She was mine, body and soul. The feeling of victory as I burst into her was as heady as the feeling of friction. The tightness was more than physical. The release had been as mental as it had been glandular. I felt myself beginning to swell again as I fell asleep holding my conquest.

With such thoughts in my mind and such delightful warmth against my body, it was no wonder that I was stiff again in the morning. "Do you want me to keep being gentle with you?" I asked. She nodded. "Then you must act to reduce my lust." I told her more about oral sex than she was going to remember. She knelt down and took me in her mouth. There is pleasure that comes from expertise, but there is another pleasure which comes from being first.