Natalie Mahoney (author)

Cathy was lost in the sheer power of his cock, her mind was overwhelmed by a feeling of ... fullness as his cock reached ever deeper inside her. Cathy stared up at him, her confusion evident in her expression. Slowly she realized what he wanted. He wanted her to call him "Master" as he raped her. He again ordered her to speak, emphasizing his command by impaling her again and again with his cock, making her body shake with the force of his thrusts. He held one of Cathy’s breasts in his grip, painfully squeezing the soft globe as he plowed in her. . He held his knife against her cheek, its phallic form cold and menacing, crudely reminding Cathy of his power over her. She felt the speed of his thrusts increase along with their depth and force. His cock was filling her, sinking deeper and deeper into her cunt no matter how hard she fought against it. Desperate to end this nightmare of rape and pain, and to find some relief from the cock which was turning her insides into jelly, Cathy gave in to him. She gave him what he wanted in a last coherent moment, screaming out:

" MASTER.

 

.. YOU’RE HURTING ME MASTER.. IT HURTS SO MUCH.. PLEASEE.. MASTER... NO MORE... NO MORE. ..

 

. OHHH! "

Hearing the words he wanted so much to hear pushed the Arab over the top. His cock emptied his cum into Cathy, filling her with a flood of his hot cum. He held himself still between her legs, eyes unfocused, body rigid as he emptied himself into the sobbing female officer trapped underneath him. He could feel his cock spurt again, and then again for a third time before it began to shrink. He stayed inside her warmth as long as he could, until he began to feel the cum leaking out of Cathy’s cunt. Slowly. he withdrew and put his cock back inside his pants. He looked down at Cathy as she lay there, eyes tightly shut, her nude body shiny with her sweat and shaking with her sobs; her breasts red from the punishment he had given them. A stream of white cum- his cum- trickling out of her still open cunt onto the platform. He slowly turned around to look toward the doorway. As he had hoped and expected, he saw the doorway filled with the faces of the Pashtoons. Except for the angry face of Kehalis, the men’s faces showed only delight in a foreigner’s- especially a foreign woman’s- humiliation. There was no anger at the Arab for taking the Western female soldier, only envy. Their faces showed something else as well. They showed a hunger, a hunger to experience the bound woman themselves, to take her as the Arab had taken her, to make her cry out for them as she cried out for the Arab when he had planted his seed deep inside her. 

The Arab smiled and gestured to them, dumbly showing the men that they were welcome to enter.

 

He needed no knowledge of their strange language to make it clear to the watching men that he was offering them a taste of what he had just experienced with Cathy.

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