Escape From Buggery Ch 14

It started as a day like all the others as far as Sharon was concerned. In fact, in her misery she had lost all concept of days. Life was nothing but boredom and fear punctuated by rape. Only a few hours earlier Sweetness and she had had to endure another assault by the Buggery soldiers. Again ones she’d never seen before with the exception of the sergeant who escorted them in. She was vaguely aware of the violence done to her through her tears and pain. Her arse hadn’t recovered from the previous assault which had already left a trickle of blood between her buttocks. Her vagina was similarly bruised and battered. And yet more pummelling. She could see Sweetness’ face pressed against the ground like her own, a leg hooked over her back while another soldier squeezed his penis into his arse. She could see the other soldiers fucking each other and could hear the gasps and pants of the soldiers as they penetrated her. She had long given up struggling. It only made it hurt more. All she could look forward to was the pain ending, and then being left huddled in a slump to nurse her sorrows. Sometimes she saw enough of the soldiers from the undignified positions in which they’d held her down to see just how young and sometimes mutilated they were. She knew that their sufferings in this war had also been considerable, and the scars and dismemberments were proof, if proof were needed that war was no more pleasant for the combatants than it was for innocents like her who had been dragged into its sphere.

And then, hours of solitude with Sweetness whose tears of grief for Joy were intermingled with rage against the men who had treated her so badly. It was evening, so only a shadowy form of Sweetness could be seen in the narrow light passing through the tent’s closed entrance. Sharon sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms nestling around her legs, staring into space, depressed, anxious and bruised. How long would she last until she was discarded or worn out? It was while these dark thoughts ran through her mind that she was suddenly startled by a loud bang and a sudden burst of light which briefly illuminated the contours of Sweetness’ recumbent white form.

Thunder and lightening, presumed Sharon. But no, there wasn’t any rain. The little patch of sky she could see through the tent door was clear. And then another crash. Not too far away. And the sound of running outside. What was happening? In the tent, all she knew of was frantic activity outside, the occasional thundering crash and accompanying flash of light. And then the sound of gunfire.

“Oh No! Oh No! We’re gonna die! We’re going to die!” cried Sharon in utter fear, a patch of urine suddenly releasing itself from between her legs and squirting onto the ground beneath her.

Sweetness moaned. “What’s happening? What’s going on? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Sharon, conscious only that whatever it was, it was dangerous and potentially lethal.

The noise and confusion only intensified. The gunfire became an almost continuous rattle as it progressed to machine guns and hand automatics. Every few moments there was a shriek or a thump or a crash. The tent was illuminated after and during each new noise, and Sharon could see Sweetness in those few instances lit up and crouched. She despaired. “I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!” she moaned unable to hear her own voice over the cacophony, and distantly aware of similar shrieks and cries erupting from Sweetness. Sharon rolled herself into a ball, hid her head into her arms and like a mantra moaned: “Die! I’m gonna. Die!” She could hear soldiers running about outside. At one stage, the tent shook as a body fell against it and then slumped to the ground. Sharon yelped with terror. When would she be next?

“Sharon! Sharon!” she distantly heard. She looked up to see the shadowy figure of the sergeant. He was crouching down, but Sharon could see that his penis was fully erect between his legs.

“Not now! For fuck’s sake not now!” Sharon pleaded, afraid that she was about to be raped.

“I love you, Sharon,” said the sergeant in a voice hollowed out by excitement. “I love you. I only wish we’d met in … in better circumstances.” Sharon gazed at the figure when there was another monstrous crash which shook the tent and briefly lit the sergeant up. He was clearly excited, and not just his penis. Sharon noticed a gash on his leg and a swelling of flesh and blood. The sergeant slightly hobbled. “If we ever meet again .. if I survive … I’d so like to meet you again … but, for now, you must run. Run away!”

Sharon was conscious that the shackle around her ankle was being taken off and suddenly she was freed. Her ankle felt sore, but it was also free. Then, as she crouched, rubbing her ankle and wondering what to do, she watched as the sergeant unclasped Sweetness’ ankle and then both of them were free.

“You must run! Both of you! The Gomorrans. They’re here. Soon they’ll be in this tent. And they’ll kill you! You must leave! Now!”

The sergeant tugged Sharon up, who was unsteady from so many days of lying down. And weak from eating so badly. And bruised and battered from her multiple rapes. He grabbed Sharon by the arm and pulled up Sweetness who was terrified and weeping. He pulled them out of the tent, hobbling on his wounded leg.

“I have to fight! You have to run!” the sergeant shouted urgently. Sharon was startled by the brightness and confusion of the camp outside which she’d only glimpsed when she’d been dragged in. All around were Buggery soldiers running naked with their erect penises, with guns in their arms. On the ground were the bodies of other soldiers. Some tents were burning, and there was smoke drifting across the landscape. She could vaguely see the shadows of jeeps in the distance driving around through the smoke. And all around was the sound of gunfire and the occasional whistle as bullets shot by uncomfortably close.

The sergeant pushed Sharon and Sweetness away from him. “That way! There’s a wood. Only a hundred yards! Run!”

Sharon looked around her with startled open eyes, aware that her chances were lessening by the second. Without a word, she grabbed Sweetness by the arm and pulled her roughly with her as she ran almost as blindly as Sweetness in the dark void where the sergeant pointed. As they ran, they occasionally glimpsed soldiers lying on the ground and others running in all directions. She was unsure of where she trod, and felt the rough earth acutely as her bare feet raced onwards. Despite her blindness, Sweetness was keeping up with her, moaning but not complaining.

And then, they were into some woodland. But Sharon kept running, aware that this was only shelter in the most temporary sense. They ran over through the dark shadows, gashing their ankles and their thighs on the brambles and thicket. Gradually, the sound of gunfire became more distant, but the explosions when they occurred were loud, threatening and shook even the tall trees around them.

Sharon ran and ran, her breath short and painful. And then she noticed an opening in the trees through which the moon was shining. Sharon guided Sweetness through the trees, and put an arm around the girl.

“We’ve escaped. We may be safe,” she whispered. Sweetness looked up her, gazing with sightless, tearful eyes.

“I hope so! I hope so!” she whispered.

However, when they got to the edge of the wood, Sharon could see that they were still far from being as safe as she’d hoped. Outside a full battle was in action. Buggery soldiers were running about, their erect penises silhouetted grotesquely against the moon. Gomorran soldiers in jeeps were also in evidence, firing at the Buggery soldiers from their jeeps. A large tank was charging over the dried barren earth, crunching over the bodies of dead soldiers, occasionally releasing explosions of fire into those soldiers who were running about. Sharon was suddenly aware that the tank was heading towards the woods where they were, and might soon be on them. She wasn’t sure that the trees would offer it much of an obstacle.

She squeezed Sweetness’ shoulder. “We have to keep running. It’s dangerous here.” Sweetness nodded, and joined Sharon as she led her back into the wood.

However, it was not long until Sharon’s exhaustion became the better of her, and she and Sweetness were reduced to staggering through the dark dismal wood, not knowing where they were going, only knowing what they were running away from. The sound of explosions became more infrequent and more distant, and she was now more conscious of the deadness and silence of where they were. But tired as she was, she and Sweetness continued walking and stumbling in the dark. Neither said much to each other, although Sweetness clung to Sharon’s arm or hand so tightly that Sharon could feel the girl’s nails dig deep into her flesh.

The girls walked on and on, until they could walk no more. And then, hoping that it was safe, Sharon settled on a spot underneath a tall tree around which was mostly grass and moss, and although it was slightly damp in the night chill, she gently eased Sweetness down to join her in the dark for the rest that her body demanded of her. Sweetness sighed and pulled herself onto Sharon’s body for comfort and warmth. Sharon had neither the energy nor the cruelty to push her off.

In fact, their bodies were the only shelter they had from the chill. They held each other tightly, seeking solace in each other’s arms, Sweetness’ head buried in Sharon’s lap and Sharon’s head resting on Sweetness’ back. Sleep was elusive and fitful, but when it finally came, brought relief of a kind that Sharon had not known for many days.

It was serenely and blissfully peaceful when Sharon woke up. The light from the sun lit up the green and brown forest, revealing the many pretty blue and yellow flowers that she’d not seen the night before. The sun’s heat burnt on her bare back and Sweetness was clasped closely to her: her arms looping beneath hers and around her back, her face close to her own, and their legs entwined together. Sweetness stirred and opened her eyes. The pale sightless eyes gazed at her through the wild hair that had fallen onto her face.

“Oh Sharon! You saved me! I’m alive! How can I thank you?”

Sharon sighed. “It’s not over yet,” she said miserably. The darkness that had engulfed her in the days of rape and abuse in the tent was not that easily lifted. But she appreciated Sweetness’ tender affection. The girl put her arms onto Sharon’s shoulders and pushed her face into Sharon’s. She kissed her full on the mouth, her tongue just emerging and about to enter between Sharon’s lips. Sharon gently pushed Sweetness away.

“Oh! Sharon! I love you. I love you,” said Sweetness sadly.

Sharon was not pleased to hear this. “I’m not a dyke,” she reminded Sweetness. “Just keep your fucking hands off me! Well, not your hands. But your tongue anyway.” She was distantly aware of Sweetness’ hands probing between her legs and then a finger stroking the short hairs of her crotch around the cunt-ring, which was all she had to wear. Sharon brushed Sweetness’ hand away, gently and sympathetically. “And whatever you do, don’t put your hand there.”

Sweetness weeped. “But I love you. You saved my life.”

“I don’t fucking care! It’s men I want … well, not all men …” she mused, thinking of the regular abuse she’d so recently become nearly accustomed to, “but men anyway … not women. Do you understand?”

Sweetness bent her head down, her hair cascading onto her hands and over her skinny breasts. Her bony limbs seemed so vulnerable in the sun, as she pushed her clasped hands down between the angles of her knees. “No, I don’t,” Sweetness admitted. “I don’t understand at all. Joy always made love to me. Why don’t you? What’s wrong with me? Don’t you like me? Do I look so horrible?”

Sharon was aware that tears were running down Sweetness’ nose, and one droplet hung precipitously from its end. But she couldn’t relent. It wasn’t right. “Come on, Sweetness,” she said gently, putting a hand on Sweetness’ own clasped ones. “We have enough to do. We have to somehow find things to eat. And we’ve got to get away from here.” She lifted Sweetness’ head up by her chin and gazed into her face. The girl was quite pretty, if horribly malnourished. The cuts and bruises on her face detracted from her attractiveness. Her cheeks were sunk in, there was a dark mark around one of her eyes, and her lips were cracked and the lower one slightly split. “We must get moving.”

“But where to?” wondered Sweetness standing up above her unsteady and slightly wobbly. Sharon gazed up at the unshaven triangle between her legs, the sharp angles of her hips and the caved-in stomach. An overwhelming sadness came over her, colouring her darkness with a fresh sense of foreboding.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know!”

Without Buttercup or Tracey, Sharon felt even more hopeless than she had before. And her responsibilities towards this blind girl may have given her a sense of purpose, but that didn’t make her any more capable. Their wanderings through the day and the days to come were aimless, meandering and uncoordinated. They wandered in and out of the woods. Sometimes walking along the empty roads. Sometimes straying towards the battle zones where bombed-out tanks and abandoned vehicles gave evidence of potential danger.

On a few occasions they saw the bodies of soldiers rotting in the sun, surrounded by the buzz of insects and the gathering of horribly slimy things around them. On one occasion, they even saw the body of a soldier fully clothed, with maggots and flies crawling through the fabric. This was the first time Sharon had seen anyone, alive or dead, with clothes on, and this acutely reminded her of her nakedness. She looked down disparagingly at her bruised and lacerated body, her bare vagina a kind of affront to her sensibilities. Would she ever wear clothes again? And lead a normal life? She looked at Sweetness, who was staring blankly ahead, her hand, as always, tightly grasped in hers. She was discomfited more by the horrible smell from the corpse than by its sight. Sharon felt overwhelmed by a sense of sadness and something else she had been resisting so strongly. She tenderly kissed Sweetness on the cheek, who started slightly alarmed, and then smiled as she established what had touched her. Sharon gently eased the girl off as she tried to reciprocate the affection.

Sharon was completely hopeless at the task of finding and preparing food, and Sweetness was understandably even worse. As the days and nights went by, a succession of wandering punctuated by exhaustion, the two got weaker and their wanderings more fitful. Every time they saw figures in the distance, the girls hid either flat on the ground or in the thickets, terrified that they might be seen by soldiers or, worse, police. Sharon’s self-confidence dropped and her despair intensified. But still the sun shone, the landscape alternated between the bleak barrenness of the open fields and the forbidding shadows of the forests.

Those times that they had the energy to stumble forwards became steadily shorter, and the times they rested became longer. Soon, Sharon leaned more and more heavily on Sweetness, who was steadily losing her passion for her guardian as her own energy levels dropped further. Sharon’s awareness of where she was became increasingly more tenuous. When they rested, their consciousness slid away so easily, and stirring became even more difficult. The sun burnt on Sharon’s back and shoulders and her legs became increasingly lacerated as her stumbling became more faltering and more unsteady. And soon they weren’t walking at all.

Sharon wasn’t at all sure how long she and Sweetness had been lying on the earth in the shade of the large tree. They were clinging to each other in desperation, Sweetness occasionally shivering as fatigue and hunger shook through her body. Sharon’s mouth was dry and her lips cracked. The few fruits and the odd mushroom they’d eaten hadn’t really been enough to sustain them with either nourishment or moisture. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She assumed it was Sweetness, and opened her eyes surprised to see that both of the girl’s hands were clinging to her shoulders, her eyes closed and one leg pushed out ungainly away from them.

Sharon started. She mouthed “What the fuck!” and looked up at the possessor of the strange hand, expecting to see a Buggery soldier with his erect penis and khaki skin. Instead she saw the face of a woman with her hair shaved off and a strangely reassuring smile under a small nose disfigured by a huge nose-ring.

“Who are you?”

The woman offered Sharon a bowl of water which she was holding in her other hands. Sharon took it from her and gulped it down greedily, and as she did so glimpsed the hands which had proffered the bowl to her. They were slim white hands with the third finger on the left hand cut off at just about the lower joint. She looked up and evaluated this strange angel of mercy. It then became clear. The naked body, the chains running from the pierced nipples and the shaven vagina. The crouched figure was a Sodomite pilgrim.

The woman smiled again, and opened her mouth voicelessly. It was with an acute sense of discomfort and unease that Sharon realised that there was no tongue in the mouth behind the sparkling white teeth, or rather only the stump of a tongue. And this Sodomite pilgrim was not alone. There were three or four others: one male, the other female, all naked bar the chains and rings from piercings all about their bodies. They were all smiling at her. Despite herself, Sharon smiled back.

The woman who’d given her the water was crouched beside her, the chains from her nipples resting on her knees. She placed a hand on Sharon’s lips and then pulled herself forward to kiss her gently and tenderly on the lips. A very warm and brief kiss. She then gently raised the bowl of water to Sharon’s mouth.

Sharon sipped some more and looked up at the solicitous and kindly gaze of the strange woman. “Thank you,“ she said sincerely and with difficulty through the newly watered corridors of her parched throat. “Thank you for saving my life.”