General Khorokov was good-looking in a rugged, almost grim Eastern European way. The handsome middle-aged leader was Belgestani. Belgestan, a practically forgotten mountainous and landlocked ex-Soviet republic, was now a nation torn apart by civil war. At least seven rebel groups and what remained of the decimated government now vied for power. Men died to take a village, or a few city blocks, and from an outsider's point of view, what was it all for? But General 'Khoro' happened to be a true believer, and he inspired those same beliefs in his men. Many of them came from areas of severe poverty, of starvation, and these were men who had little to lose...men who were only too happy to rally around a charismatic man with the promise of a plan.
General Khoro was that and much more. He happened to be one of the more ambitious of the warlords attempting to carve up the country, and tonight he had much to be thankful for. His forces had just captured the capitol of Kransk. His reasons to celebrate even had a personal dimension to them as well.
"We are here." Dostro, his bodyguard, pulled the jeep to a stop outside the well-concealed stone house along the mountainside. It had been chosen as Khoro's headquarters while they solidified their control of the capitol and prepared for the inevitable counterattack by government forces. If they could weather it and consolidate what they'd taken, General Khoro hoped that they could turn the tide of the war.
Beside him a naked girl named Jessica sat in the jeep, cloaked only by Khoro's uniform jacket to keep away the chill. He helped her step down and ushered her inside in his bodyguard's wake. He immediately took her into the second-story bathroom, to a ceramic tub. He turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up. It was long tub, with four ornate carved lion's talons resting on the tiled antique floor. With the water warming up, he nodded to the girl.
"You may take a warm bath and cleanse yourself in peace. I will have fresh towels placed just inside the door. If there is anything else you need, Jessica, just ask. I have a proposal for you, once you are freshly bathed, dressed, and ready to listen. Is there anything else you require?"
The girl looked at him uncertainly. Her expression fluctuated between one of tentative relief and abject fear.
Unable to control himself, Khoro stepped up to her. He took the uniform jacket off of her, eying her beautiful, naked physique. He cupped her face and it took all his control to stop himself from ravishing her right there.
"Think about what I have said, and do not try to escape. This will make me very angry, and I do not wish to be angry with you. I wish only good things for you, girl. Do you understand?"
Jessica nodded. The young woman clearly didn't fathom his irrational, instinctual attraction to her, but it couldn't be helped. As he turned away, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, he brooded about his feelings.
It was all most unfortunate, curse it to hell and back. He was very taken with this woman. Until today Jessica had been a police cadet of no importance. Young and untried she might have been, but she possessed real courage. She had fought valiantly against one of his best commanders before being captured, and she had paid the price - raped, along with the other police women, by order of Sergei Voskili, one of Khoro's commanders. Sergei was a man whose influence and tactical genius Khoro still needed to win this war, even though he despised the man for the monster he was.
So, Khoro had rescued the girl from the abuse of Sergei and his cronies, and now the question loomed before him. What was his next move? He wanted Jessica to be his, for reasons he could not even fully comprehend.
What was it about this young Belgestani girl that gave rise to such infatuation?
He found himself drawn to her, all right. She was beyond just beautiful; she was flawless in his eyes. Her perfectly sculpted figure, lithe and supple, with her gorgeous childlike face and long raiment of golden hair, could mesmerize or at least temper the baser parts of him as nothing else could. She had perky breasts, a smooth belly which led down to a light dusting of pubic hair surrounding the tantalizing opening of her sex, and beneath that were such lean, sexy hips. Her eyes confounded him most of all. They were as clear and blue as the shallows of a Caribbean beach, and so expressive that he never tired of watching her.
He had never thought he would ever feel such passion like this again - not after the tragic death of his wife. And yet here he was, in the middle of a war zone. Here he was, finding the one thing unlooked for, the one thing least likely to grow in a hellhole, like a rose springing up from concrete. Love...or some intoxicating variation of it. In the middle of a war-torn capitol city, that's what he had found.
He took off his clothes, layer by layer, in the upstairs master bedroom and lay back on the rickety mattress. Naked and alone, his mind drifted. This was the calm in the eye of the storm, and soon enough it would shatter. His mind calculated all the preparations he had set in motion, getting his men throughout the city ready for what was to come. More violence, more gunfire, more death. And yet...he couldn't help it. His mind drifted back to Jessica, and not just about her. He wondered what Sergei was up to. He had given Sergei strict orders, but now he questioned whether those orders would actually be carried out.
Sergei Voskili was the basest kind of man. He had the other captured police women at his mercy still, and although Khoro could not deny the men the satiating of their appetites, not without starting a possible revolt, he still felt revulsion for it. He wondered...had he doomed those women, saving Jessica and leaving the rest to suffer a fate possibly worse than death? What was Sergei up to even now?
~~~~~~~~~~
MEANWHILE, IN THE CITY OF KRANSK...
Sergei Voskili stood at least 6'5, his dark eyes matching the dark depths of his soul. He stood in what was once a police station - now converted into a rudimentary base of operations. The civil war in the backwater former Soviet republic of Belgestan was nearing its zenith, and that meant one thing. Well, two. Death and destruction. Most of the city's buildings were pock-marked with the scars of bullets or even heavy weapons. Belgestan's capitol city of Kransk had become like a ghost town.
Here only the strong survived.
"What is wrong, slut? Have you never learned to suck cock?" Sergei said angrily. He looked down at the former police woman. Her uniform lay in tatters beside her, but he could just make out her original officer's badge, which read 'Pam Zeneshko'. The rebels had commandeered the largest conference room in the police station and turned it into an orgy of rape for their own amusement.
Pam was a slender, petite blonde with shoulder-length hair, vivid blue eyes, and a pleasing face. She was naked, her hands tied behind her back. On her knees she was sucking his cock desperately, her loud slurps joining the other sounds of sexual perversion which echoed throughout the room.
The girl came up off his cock, pre-cum dribbling down her bottom lip and chin.
"Please Sir, if you untie me I can make it better for you. I can fondle your balls as I suck you," she implored.
