As his translator converted his words into English, Yazeed held the electric baton, which its American maker appropriately called a "cattle prod," prominently in his right hand.
To do this he had to have one successful battle and then prevent his army from turning on him in their defeat. The key to doing these two things lay in controlling General Hamid Rashid, the popular commander of III Corp and his army's best commander.
Then they pushed its nozzle up her stretched spincter to clean out the fecal matter remaining there. Diana felt a shock as the cold water filled and then flowed from her bowels and into the drain below her.
The front was open and the zipper sides pinned back to her shoulders so that her breasts were totally exposed. The crotch of the suit had been cut out entirely, exposing her shaven cunt and most of her buttocks, complete with the still painful bruises from her whipping the night before.
It was the sight of Diana slavishly sucking his cock as much as the sensation of her tongue working on his penis that brought Captain Yazeed to the point of no return. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and began using her face as if it were her cunt.
She knelt on the sand in front of the headquarters with the headquarters personnel drawn up in a formation to her right. Diana had instinctively assumed the submissive position taught her by Yazeed; her legs spread and her back straight with eyes downcast. She had no idea what was going to happen to her.
As she had been painfully taught to do, the captured pilot knelt with her legs spread wide, exposing her sex which was still swollen from the gang rape and fisting of five nights before. Diana held her arms up with her hands clasping at the back of her neck, involuntarily thrusting her large breasts forward as if offering them to her torturer.
"Oh god!" she cried, through more tears. I dragged my tongue lewdly down her stomach, mouthing her flesh.
"I am Major Diana Barker, serial number 309-48-8221, United States Air Force. I demand to be treated as a prisoner of war. What you are doing is contrary to the Geneva Convention; you could be tried as a war criminal for mistreating a prisoner."
She replied, "I am from the 417th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 250th Tactical Fighter Wing which is based at Dhahran. I was flying an aircap when the missile hit me." Diana's face burned as she spoke.
The sight of the whitish fluid dripping out of her drew him to her abused vagina. He crouched between her legs to peer inside her half open cunt lips. Fascinated, Yazeed spread those lips with his fingers to get a better look.
A nude Major Diana Barker knelt submissively in front of the her seated captor as Captain Yazeed angrily berated her in Arabic for her lackluster performance in the last propaganda broadcast.
Diana's screams were clearly audible throughout the headquarters as the general wished them to be. No one could humiliate him and escape; let those lackeys and cowards listen, he thought as he savored Diana's screams.
The cum was drying in a sticky sheet which stained her thighs halfway to her knees. Diana was moaning softly into her gag, her head resting on her chest. Her breasts were heaving as if she had run a long distance; her muscular body was soaked in her own sweat and that of the guards.
It was the second day of the air war and Air Force Major Diana Barker was feeling very unhappy. Part of this was attributable to the fact that she was sitting in the back of an Iraqi army truck with her hands tied behind her back and a bag over her head. She was thirsty, her body ached from the jolt she received when she ejected from her F-16, and she was afraid. But most of all, she was pissed because she knew that she had blown it. After all the hype, the first woman combat pilot had let herself get shot down on her first combat mission. All she could think of was how this was going to screw up her plans for getting a star. She had spent the last ten years of her life working toward that goal.
But she knew that if she displeased the general he would inflict some horrible punishment on her. The general was making some kind of a speech to the assembled soldiers in Arabic; he seemed to have forgotten her for the moment.
Through the quarter panel window I can see her, in the mirror. She's almost here. Me? I'm just a guy, in a safe neighborhood, unloading his truck.
Diana did not resist as the Captain stood in front of her, unzipped his pants, and placed his erect penis in front of her face. He grabbed her by the hair and guided her face forward. She simply opened her mouth and allowed his penis to penetrate her lips.
He fucked brutally, shredding her unlubricated cunt walls as he put all his strength behind each thrust. He would pull out until only his cockhead was still inside her then thrust into her again with the force of a piledriver.
At Yazeed's order, the guard raping her ass began to twist and pull on her sore nipples to get her to struggle again. The new pain coming from her abused nipples did make Diana fight feebly, involuntarily milking his cock as her body struggled feebly to escape.
Consumed with fear and guilt, Diana was losing touch with who and what she was and beginning to allow her captors to define her in their terms instead.
Diana glared at the seated officer as she replied, "Barker, Diana, Major, USAF, serial number 309-48-8221. I demand to speak to a senior officer." As she finished her reply, a nod from Yazeed again brought a painful jab from the guard behind her. She kept her feet this time but saw stars. As she resumed her position of attention, the Iraqi officer left his chair and stood in front of her.
Diana hung for over two hours. Her arms burned as they were slowly pulled out of their sockets by her weight. The pain as the clamps bit into her nipples grew worse as they cut into the flow of blood to the sensitive nips of her breasts. But mercifully, the pain peaked and then began to recede into a dull throb as her nipples grew numb under the assault.
When I came back down she was just where I left her. Good girl. I pushed her face down into the mattress.
Her body was shiny with sweat. Her thighs were covered with a sheet of cum which had run down her legs to dry in a white scum on her tanned skin. Diana's head rested on her chest as her body was jerked up and down like that of a puppet by the guard's thrusts.
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