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DUTY sucked her breasts There was

"Duty" {Pendragon} (Mf rape viol)



IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to

read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do

something else.

This material is Copyright, 1996, Uther Pendragon. All

rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading

and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long

as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous

permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to

me at anon584c@nyx.net.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as

public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination

and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly

coincidental.

# # # #

DUTY

by Uther Pendragon

anon584c@nyx.net



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.

She kissed and licked the head at my direction and then took it

into her mouth. It was warm and moist, an echo and a promise. I

made sure that her lips and tongue were protecting me from her

teeth. Then I provided the movement. Knowing that she had never

had a man in her mouth before was as exciting as the warm,

smooth, friction. I moved in and out slowly as long as I could.

"Suck!" I told her. Then I increased my speed until I lost all

control. I thrust into that upper cavern until she gagged, and

then spilled my seed into her mouth. She, in turn, spilled it

out. I made no objection. I have never understood why you

Yanquis see a virtue in the woman swallowing.

When she had herself under control, I told her to clean up the

mess and herself. By the time I returned her to the guard on the

women no external sign told of her experience in the past night.

Our strange courtship proceeded from there. We never pretended

that we were not enemies, but we were man and woman sleeping

together. After that night, I moved us onto the bed of her

parents. The memory of pain had to compete with the memory of

rustling sheets and creaking bed. She soon was moist for my

petting. I taught her to kiss me back, and I taught her to put

me in her.

By the end of the first week, she was responding more and more

to my caresses. The evenings were quieter, as well. Only the

senior lieutenant's girls were crying loudly enough to be heard.

That evening, I spent a long time kissing her mouth and face and

breasts. I was stroking her lower lips at the same time. She

began rocking her hips and tightening up. She knew what was

coming and fought it. She didn't fight me, however, and I kept

stroking her and sucking her nipples until she had an orgasm.

She blushed as deeply as she had when she stripped the first

time. "You really are my sweetheart," I said. "Put my cock in

you."

She turned her head away and cried, but her hand was gentle and

warm as it obeyed me. Her tunnel, too, was hotter and wetter

than I had ever known it to be. It was still tight, but the

tension that I had guessed was resistance was now gone. I held

back as long as I could to appreciate the liquid velvet that I

was moving within. Then I plunged to her utter depths as I

pulsed my seed into that warmth. Once done, I did not withdraw.

Rather I lay on her and kissed the tears off her face. Only when

I had shrunk and come out naturally, did I cuff her to the

bedstead and cuddle beside her.

That morning, I began petting her as soon as I was awake. She

resisted more than she had the night before. At last, however,

she was moving and breathing as she had just before her orgasm.

Then I entered her. This brought more resistance, but one hand

was still handcuffed to the bed frame. I was in her, and moved

through warmth, and wetness, and her unwilling tightening. I

stroked the little bud an inch above her tunnel. She contracted

around me and gasped out. While she had her completion and cried

in shame, I stroked slowly to my own. The crying provided almost

as much motion around my organ as the climax had. I finally

shook and collapsed onto her.

"I hate myself," she said.

"You shouldn't. You are keeping your word. You *promised* to

be my sweetheart."

"I didn't mean it."

"Do you want to be on the bed in the street and have all my

platoon fuck you one after the other?"

"Would you do that to me?"

"No, I wouldn't. That is because I keep my word. Then you try

to break yours."

"I won't do that again."

"Admit that you are my sweetheart. Remember it. Being my

sweetheart protects you. You enjoy it too. You don't have to

tell anyone else. But in this bed with me, you have to stop

denying it."

It took me two more days, but she came around. She kissed me

back, kissed my face and nipples, thanked me -- rather than

cursing herself -- for the pleasure she received while I was

within her. I took the picture soon after that. Doesn't she

look enticing? We were both very happy that day.

I had expected our company to stay in that village for a month,

but orders to move out came two days after I took the picture.

The tactic of taking the home villages of the rebels had worked.

They were fighting set battles around another village, and the

company was needed there. We were ordered to move out in the

morning. Camp followers were clearly impossible.

Our last night together was bittersweet. She must have known

something. Perhaps she sensed my mood, perhaps she had heard

something. Military secrecy is an ideal which is seldom

achieved. Anyway, she was more eager to please than ever before,

kissing me with real passion, responding to my caresses with

motions and moans. I took longer than ever before, as well. I

knew that I would never kiss those breasts again, and I kissed

each one all over before I reached the bright, hard nipple on

top. I spent a long time on each of those, licking, then

sucking, then licking again.

She was flowing down below. I spread this lubrication over her

entire valley. Finally, I bathed my member in it, repeatedly

rubbing it along the whole groove and especially against the

little nubbin on top. I was reluctant to bring this to its

conclusion, however delightful. She was begging me to enter her

before I finally let go of her hands. She placed me in her entry

and pulled me into her.

Almost immediately, she had a climax. I rode it out, the first

time I had done that with any woman. Then I stroked within her

tight, smooth wetness until she was ready again. She was

throwing herself against me when I thrust her back down to the

mattress and exploded within her own explosion. I lay in her and

on her for a quarter of an hour before I had the strength to move

off. I put the handcuffs on and held her tight to me for the

whole night.

I had expected that to be my last time within her and that the

morning would provide one more time of pleasure in her mouth, at

best. Instead she woke me early and nearly pulled me inside.

That was a quiet, slow, strangely sweet experience. By the time

we finished, nearly together, my morning duties were about to

begin. While she was still in the cuff, I told her about the

company moving out. I explained why I couldn't take her with me,

but she didn't really understand.

What does the English poem say? "I could not love thee half so

much, loved I not duty more"? Something like that.

Anyway, that morning was our last time together. But no

relationship since has ever been that intense for me. That is

one reason that I keep that picture. Also it reminds me of what

I have given up for the sake of duty.

I think, though, that I would remember her always, even without

the picture. That's because she blushed so hard before I first

saw her naked, and pushed back so bravely before I burst her

hymen, and cried so piteously before I shot her.

The End

DUTY

Uther Pendragon

anon584c@nyx.net

2002/02/25

For a quite different story of a woman losing her virginity under

quite different circumstances, see:

rampant.txt

"Rampant"

The directory to all my stories can be found at:

index.txt