A Pryktians Pride Ch 01

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

*****

I don't mind my Sergeant. In fact, I'd go as far as saying I prefer him over the other people who've used me thus far. We have a silent agreement of sorts, he and I.

I knew the woman that he wished I was. No, no, I don't mean that he wanted me to be better or more than what I am. He wasn't one of those excited to get his hands on any fresh, young thing that came as a so-called "perk" with his job. In fact, I don't think he cared much for me physically. He didn't show it if he did.

No, I knew the women he had his heart strung up for back home. She was a kind woman. Had a mean streak in her occasionally with the kids she raised, but overall she took her duties seriously and did her best with the children. They couldn't afford a genuine relationship, though. Maybe you'd call it pity, but I didn't wish him unnecessary heartache. He'd been too helpful, if not exactly kind, for me to feel he deserved that.

This was his duty, not his pleasure, same as me. So he took me in mostly silence, with me faced away from him. It was easier this way. I didn't try to speed it up like I did everyone else. I knew he wanted this to end as quickly as I did.

So I focused on the texture of the small tent's fabric inches from my face and thought instead of finding something exciting tomorrow. I could care less about our objectives. They wouldn't change anything for me, but maybe we could find some new books or instruction manuals. Distractions is all they are, I guess. Just like this thought.

I'm good at distracting myself. I don't have to think about the in and out, in and out, in and out. The motions are a repetitive, monotonous part of life at this point. How long have I been here?

Five minutes?

An hour?

He says something, it doesn't register, but my body obeys regardless, spreading my legs a bit wider. I wonder when last he was able to see her. I wonder if this is how he touched her. That seems a bit too sombering. Best not travel down that line of thinking. I'm sure he'll be able to be with her again soon. This is just part of the job. It doesn't mean anything to him, or to her. It's just what we all have to do. It doesn't matter. Same as all the other times. I won't remember this a few days from now anyways. I'm good at forgetting. This is better than the alternative, it's a mild inconvenience is all.

Oh, he's turning me to the right a bit. He must be close now. I don't know if it makes it easier, but it is useful when they have a tell. It's helpful sometimes, knowing that they're close. I can start to prepare, pulling away ever so slightly. It'll be a minute or so more by my guess.

Tomorrow we should make it to the fourth mark. If I remember correctly, it's an old bunker, or was the next one the hunting lodge? I wouldn't mind either one, but I think the bunker would have a better chance of containing papers that were still legible. The last marks didn't have anything worth the trip other than some barely useable bandages, and spring is almost here. If we didn't head back home soon, we'd be at high risk of running into the grayskins. Half of us were newly out of training, but what choice did we have? Two more marks and we'll be heading home, either way.

Sergeant might meet up with his lady love when we get back. The guys make fun of him for not using me more, for not lasting long enough with me. Not in front of him, of course. But I can't be anything but grateful for that. I think it's almost kind of sweet.

Hopefully they're all asleep by now, so I don't have to deal with their comments and stares. I haven't heard anything but the husky breath behind me for a while now. That wasn't unusual, though. Just because they weren't allowed to touch doesn't mean they didn't enjoy listening in. Not that the rules ever stopped them before, if they want me they'll take me when it's convenient, I know that. It hasn't happened often, fortunately. Maybe it's too cold for them to get hard? Smiling in the dark, I thanked the cold for being on my side at least.

A sudden, but small sound escaped my lips as Sarge pulled my hips tight to him, finishing inside of me, as required.

I waited. He put his head against my back and just held me to him like that. If I were a more well spoken person, or maybe just less selfish, I would turn and hug him, tell him that he can forget everything. I will after all. Next week this memory will be a blur of motions with a faceless entity I know to be him. I could tell him this is no betrayal to his love, or to whatever children he may or may not care about. He'd done what was necessary to survive and there was no fault to be taken from it.

Maybe that's what I should do. But I can't. I can't. His cum's dripping out of me, though he's still buried to the hilt, and I hate it. Do I hate him? Maybe. But he's doing the same as I am.

So I wait. Until he finally lets me go, the length of him sliding from me with a sickening sound. He pushes me ever so slightly to the side as he lays down to sleep. I take no time to right myself, gathering my clothing and dressing quickly.

I crawl out of the tent onto the cold, dew covered grass, and head into the woods until the camp is almost out of sight before leaning against a tree. Before I pull my pants down, I take a handkerchief out from my pocket. With my legs spread, I frantically dig my fingers into me, scooping globs of his seed out onto the forest floor. Once as much of it as I can get is out, I fold and roll the cloth until it's the shape I need. I shove it inside of me, waiting uncomfortably for it to absorb some of the liquids that my fingers couldn't get.

My head rests against the rough bark and I close my eyes. I just need to catch my breath before I return and let myself sleep. The cold bites at my exposed parts, and I let it, just for a moment. Hands of frost and wind caress my skin, echoing where I've been touched before. Maybe it should hurt, maybe I should shiver against it. It doesn't matter though. It's only for a moment.

____________________________________

Wet grass squished beneath our boots as we made our way through the woods. My hands adjusted their grip around my gun.

The backs of the men ahead of me were rigid but maintained their steady pace. Light puffs of cloudy breath rose and dispersed in less than uniform patterns. The metallic of their uniforms reflected little of the gray around us. The blue of their skin seemed to be the only color to be found.

Unless you looked up a bit.

Green was everywhere here, even if its brilliance was muted under the weight of the snowy tops. And further above that, the citrusy hues of the sunrise were clearly present inbetween the clusters of branches.

Beautiful as it was, I had no trouble ignoring the cues from Sarge and waltzing into the back of Laref. Before I could utter an apology, I was on the floor. The pain from being shoved to the ground didn't hit me until he was straddling me, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me. "The fuck is wrong with you?" One of the others pulled him off as he continued his hushed yells and insults. "She's gonna get us all killed."

I stood, rubbing my left butt cheek where most of the impact had been absorbed. "I'm not the one yelling."

Laref's eyes flamed, warning of another slew of unnecessary shouting. Sarge pulled his shoulder enough to force him to stumble back a step. "Rueg."

My eyes immediately shifted away from his, lowering to the floor. "Sorry, Sir."

After a beat, he turned back to finish calculating our course. Breathing out, I lifted my gaze, a bit less concerned about colors and trees, while the others tried to calm Laref down. He's been losing it since we saw those old bodies a couple days ago.

To be fair, we were all on edge at this point. We all knew we were behind schedule. Not to mention there were only eight of us. That's the smallest team that's ever been sent out. I don't know about the politics behind it, but they should've sent more. We could hardly scare off any animals with this small of a group, how would we deal with a grayskin? Then again, we had more illness this winter, our supply of laborers was near the point of exhaustion.

If we didn't find anything on this trip, how long before things get much worse?

We continued West for several hours, stopping for two breaks. Not that we had anything much to eat. The last edible creature we had seen scurried out of sight last week. By midday the last of the reluctant snow on the ground had mostly melted away, leaving only the muddy underpinnings of the forest to step on. The sun warmed us for a small while before more clouds moved in, but it was refreshing.

Living in the mountains is different than traveling in the mountains. I wouldn't have thought hiking in the cold would be this strenuous. After not very long, every next step hurts and you dread the landing of every single one, and each breath is a flood of pain. The others struggled as well, thankfully. With any luck, my trouble wasn't as apparent as theirs. Since I wasn't allowed to be at the tail end of the group, I didn't have any choice but to keep pace.

When the trees finally cleared and our path began to turn down towards a dilapidated bunker, it was all I could do to not shrug my shoulders with a great sigh.

We stopped at the base of the valley, huddling together for instructions.

"Two hours is all we got. We need to get back to Orange Mark tonight." Everyone made noises of frustration and disappointment before Sarge continued in a harsher tone. "We don't have time for your whining, Squad A, front of the building. Squad B, back. Squad C, sweep the perimeter. No walking off, I don't care if you piss yourselves. This is our furthest point. Scout your areas and let's get back the hell home."

I followed my group inside as Laref and two of the others left to circle the area. No one complained any further, probably motivated to get back home as soon as possible.

It was less a bunker than it was a concrete shack with a sturdy door. The musty air escaped with a vain sense of importance. Light branched through the dust filled air from the spaces in the window that had yet to be filled with grime. Upon entering, my squad left Squad A to deal with the front half of the structure. We traveled through tables and shelves of what must've been some sort of lab or nursing station at one point. It was hard to tell with the age of everything in here.

The faint tracks underfoot caught my eye on our way to the rear wall, but I tried to ignore them. It wasn't unlikely that one of the previous groups already scouted this place. Our maps were hardly kept up to date, but no need to dwell on the possible futility of this trip any further.

Several steps from our destination, our footsteps began to send the crunching of glass to echo through the one-roomed building. The others paid no heed to it as I stooped down to investigate.

I picked up a piece that was rather large and thick. It wasn't curved, and the thickness wasn't indicative of any kind of bottle or flask. Windowpane perhaps? Looking up, there were certainly a few panes of glass that had been so graciously relieved of their completeness. But... I looked back at the piece in my hand. The color didn't quite match. That could be due to the different states of cleanliness between the two.

"Rueg!"

The glass fell from my hands as I turned back to the door, standing back upright to face my Sergeant.

"Get to it, we don't have time to be playing in the dirt."

"Yes, Sir." I turned before he could admonish me further, directing my attention to the cupboards underneath one of the back tables.

"Barely out of class and already screwing up," one of the others said behind me.

Ignoring them with only a slightly meaningless glare, I moved onto the next cupboard hoping it to be less bare. My search took me to the right, mostly because the other two had gone to the left. Almost everything in here was broken or otherwise useless.

By the seventh shelf, my spirits were pretty low. More dust and cobwebs. But then, as good Shila above smiled down on me, my eyes landed on the peeling of paint in the back of the bottom shelf, covered almost entirely by dust.

Could it be? Could it possibly be?

My breath caught in my throat and I fought down a grin. My fingers twitched as they reached out to tug on the corner. The corner came loose for the singular- no! -multiple pieces of parchment.

Not a trip in vain after all.

The lovely printed text spoke of formulas and mathematic equations I made no sense of. It was as beautiful as a piece of music, of which I'd only seen thrice. Under the thick layer of dust, there was a great deal of fading on the top page, especially in one corner that clearly took the most sun. But the back of the page- yes, they were indeed double-sided! - as well as the entirety of the second page were almost entirely legible.

Only the typical words I could actually read, though. Lots of letters together that didn't seem to form actual words resided separate on the page from the main texts. And then very large words that you may say to a young child before they can speak just to entertain them for a moment wound themselves through the words I knew. And symbols of all sorts. Lots of circles and lines and slightly strange letters. It was mesmerizing.

Something cold touched my nose.

I looked up. Snow had started building on the corners of the windows. Further up, a few snowflakes found their way through the cracks in the roof of the old, cracked windows.

It was pretty. The snow drifting down through the particles of dust still clearly visible in the air from our disturbance of the space. A polka-dotted picture of peaceful submission to their own demise.

"Psst."

I like polka dots. Circles are just such a nice, strangely simple way to occupy a space.

"Rueg!"

I blinked. That wasn't Sarge speaking. I looked for the others next to me, to find the glimmer of what had to be someone's camo suit.

Crap, what did I miss?

Turning back, I found the others shimmering out of sight, but my attention was immediately drawn to the entrance. Ducking under the open door, someone- something coming through.

My mouth fell agape, eyes wide.

It's them, right? It had to be them. What else could they be. Gray skin, that should be an immediate indicator. But... they looked like us. Other than their skin clearly not being blue, and generally quite a bit taller than us, I couldn't find many other differences. Their arms clearly did not hang all the way down to the ground, like in the drawings. And they weren't drooling, nor were they sneering with giant sharp teeth. They even had regular hair. Why were our drawings always showing them with crazy spiked hair?

They looked almost normal, compared to what we had been told. These weren't exactly the beasts I had expected.

Something finally snapped and I realized what was going on. I scrambled for the button at the side of my suit, fumbling despite the circumstances. By the time it was on, five were already inside, the front of the group clearly amused with my ineptitude.

"Seems we found something of interest here," the one at the head of the group said, much to my surprise. His voice was clear, his words articulate. No one had ever mentioned they spoke our language. From a pocket on the side of his pants, he drew out a large knife and began to stalk forward.

My camo was on, but he made a direct, line toward me. Shaky, uneven clouds formed in front of me as my breathing increased, causing the others in his group to chuckle.

Glancing around, I quickly put my thoughts together. The others would do their best to leave if possible, knowing I had the monsters' attention. They'd know as well as I that we wouldn't be able to take them. There were probably more grayskins outside even if we were able to manage the now six in here. My hand hovered over my gun. Shooting in here, with so many present, would get me nowhere. Even if I somehow killed one, even two of them. But with how low the charge on our weapons was at this point- no, at best it would be good for a distraction or temporary inconvenience.

I don't know if the others would be able to get out through the grayskins in the only entrance, but I certainly wouldn't be able to.

None of the groups, from the past decade at least, had survived an encounter with grayskins. If I try to fight, I'm dead. There's no way for me to run. Not right now. But maybe...

The grayskin was clearly drawing this out, keeping his pace unnaturally slow as his eyes stayed on me with a fierce determination. I'm not sure what the purpose was exactly. Maybe to entertain his buddies?

With him only a few feet away, there wasn't any more time to think. It's do or die time. Got nothing to lose in trying.

My eyes closed and I took a deep breath. Before he was close enough to be in touching distance, I switched the dial off on my suit, shocking him enough to stop any further movement. I slowly, without too much shakiness, raised my hands, empty and open toward him. Swallowing over the large lump now in my throat, I opened my eyes and raised my head with as much dignity as I could spare, hoping to Shila the others weren't still here to see this.

"I surrender." I looked up, a bit startled at the grayskin's height. I was rarely, if ever, shorter than others in the village. To see him, a pace away, already towering over me by at least a head, very likely more- well, it was a strange experience. How old was I last when anyone had that much height over me? 10? We knew they were larger than us, I suppose I just never fully understood what that would feel like up close.

His eyes lost all that fire behind them as his expression went blank. "Excuse me?"

Concentrate. My eyes stayed locked with his as I took a quick breath and wet my lips. "I surrender," I said, slower but louder this time.

The right side of his mouth twitched up, only for a moment, before his eyes took on a new devilish look and his whole face lit up.

Oh, stars above.

I'm not sure what his opinion was on the subject of my surrender, but I hadn't expected such a joyous reaction from it. Maybe this was a first for them. Hell, maybe they really never got this far without killing us. That wasn't the most pleasant of thoughts.

I just have to last long enough to be in a good position to run. No matter what they usually do, I just need to get them to not kill me for a little while.

Once he recovered from his momentary shock, he closed the distance between us, forcing me to back into the shelf. A cold sweat broke out above my brow as I refused to give in to my fear and back down or turn away. I felt like I was shrinking as he towered over me. He had to be at least 2 feet taller than me, and wide enough to ensure some sort of muscle under the strangely normal looking layers of clothing he wore.

His eyes did not stray from mine, though I could not do the same. My eyes ran over every inch of his face. They must shave, considering how even and well kept his facial hair seemed. He had gold eyes that were a stark contrast to his dull looking skin. His dark hair seemed to be handcombed to one side. The color of his skin was darker around his nose and cheeks. I can't say for certain from this distance if that was the same on the others or a unique pattern he alone had. His nose was wider than mine, though not so drastic to be disconcerting. I mean, no more disconcerting than the entirety of him was. And his lips- they're moving.

"-aren't you." I only caught the last half of the sentence he was saying as my eyes fled back up to his, worried I missed something important.