Life has been difficult since the war started and our town was taken by the enemy. They watch our every move and enforce their will whenever they see fit. Three weeks have passed since my fateful encounter with the officer. He took me one day in a field where I had been picking mushrooms to supplement my family's meagre food supply. I have often caught myself daydreaming about him, reliving our lust-filled union.
Tonight, however, I'm excited because some of the younger people of our town have conspired to have a gathering. It may seem silly, but even just playing some card games and scraping together some snacks makes for quite the party when your every movement is controlled by enemy invaders, and food is scarce.
My best friend, Svetlana, works in the same factory as me, at the next workstation. I've known her all my life, she's practically my sister. She is shorter than me, and curvier, with thick blond hair and cornflower blue eyes. I have the same coloring, blond hair, and blue eyes, but finer features. Proud cheekbones and heart-shaped lips.
We giggle under our breath all day, bursting with excitement for the anticipated festivities. We are girls after all, just barely into womanhood. The work at the factory - sewing - can be hard, and our taskmasters are quick to come down on us for any perceived slack in the pace of our work, so we do our best to keep our heads down and work hard until the whistle blows, signaling the end of the shift. We walk home, arms linked. I check in with my family - aging parents aged all the faster by this war, and my little brother. They go to bed early, so I wait until they fall asleep, put a nice scrap of ribbon I found in my hair, and head off into the night.
No one is caught coming to the small abandoned ramshackle house, and we have taken care to blacken the windows with admixture made from soot. It is these small defiances that keep us from becoming dead inside, as some of the older townspeople seem to have. They nurture the hope that one day this war will be over and we will be free people, to do what we please, to pick up the pieces of our lives. The gathering is indeed a success, no one can stop smiling, and we are all savoring the precious moments of stolen freedom, memorizing the jokes and look of each other, young and vibrant, to sustain us for who knows how long. Sadly, the night draws long and we must leave.
Svetlana and I prepare to scurry home, wrapping ourselves up in shawls against the cold. The party attendees leave in ones and twos so as not to attract notice. When it is our turn to make a hasty exit, we scuttle out the door and try our best to keep to the shadows. We are only a block and a half from home - Svetlana's family lives two floors below my family's apartment - when I see something move in the shadows ahead. I stop, grabbing Svetlana's arm to still her, but suddenly we are grabbed from behind by men, strong arms wrapping around my body like a vise.
They put their hands over our mouths to quiet us and carry us somewhere, I can't see where. I struggle but I am thoroughly overpowered, it is no use. I gather my strength to make an escape whenever an opportunity may arise. The next thing I know I have been tossed down like a sack of potatoes onto a concrete floor. Svetlana is squirming beside me and I take small comfort in the fact that we are together. I look around and the first thing I see are several pairs of legs - not good. My eyes travel upwards in the dim light and I make out 3 men standing around us. The minute I can tell they are enemy soldiers my heart skips a beat and I can barely breathe. I've been through this once before, and I know my body would survive rape, but it is actually the possibility of being killed afterwards that has me so panicked. Somehow I'd known my officer (yes, in my mind he is somehow "mine") wouldn't kill me.
Then the men shift and I see another man - my officer, the wolf, as I think of him - step into view. His piercing blue eyes barely stop as they skim over me, surveying the scene before him. My body relaxes a little, which is absurd. Somehow instinctively I feel a smote safer in his presence. I must be insane. He walks over to me and bends over, lifting my chin with his hand so he can look into my eyes. I try to look as regal as I can. I have my pride.
"Ah, yes, this is the one. She is mine, and none of you are to touch her or you will feel my wrath."
I swell with joy, until I remember Svetlana beside me. What on earth is going to happen? Svetlana looks at me, thoroughly frightened.
My officer picks me up and sets me down on a table. I choose not to fight because at this point I'm hoping things will wind up like last time, the best possible outcome for this scenario by my calculations. He takes each limb and binds it with rope to a table leg, so I am splayed face up on the table.
"Let me show you boys how to properly prepare a woman to be mounted. It's always better when they're wet and begging YOU for it"
The wolf lifts my skirts, baring my pussy to the cold air. After a few seconds, I feel his hot breath there, teasing me. Then a long lick, which makes my back arch involuntarily. The fact that people are watching this only makes it more erotic somehow. I close my eyes to shut them out but I can feel their gazes roving across my body. He licks a few more times slowly, then picks up the pace a bit. He stops to lift his head, "You guys can get started with her, " he nods towards Svetlana. The wolf starts licking at my clit again but I'm distracted, worried about my friend. Svetlana starts to scream as they try to pick her up, and one of them slaps her, hard. "No, not my friend," I moan. "Shhhh don't worry about her darling, you have your own skin to save. Besides, it won't be all bad, and we'll let you two go home afterwards." he says. "But I am rather disappointed to find out you speak our language and didn't tell me before," he said. "That will not go unpunished."
Shit, I think, shit shit shit. He continues his ministrations though, persistent in getting me off. I begin to grow wetter and wetter, and soon can't help myself, I try to open my legs wider even though they are trapped, tied to the table legs. "That's right my little whore, tell me you want me to fuck you."
