Forced to Submit

  Davin’s luminous green eyes scanned the noisy, humid shack where he and his buddies often drank the nights away. The familiar group was as loud and boisterous as ever. Glasses clanked and clattered. The light foam from the tops of their beers sloshed every which way, causing the entire make-shift bar to be eternally coated by a stale, sticky layer. Between that and the musky smell of men fresh from the front lines, the place affectionately called ‘The Hole’ certainly lived up to its name.

  A pretty young woman, dressed in a tight corset and an ill-fitting hoop skirt, sauntered up to Davin with a tipsy stagger. She rested her hand on his shoulder and took a deep puff of her short cigarette.

  “Hey soldier,” she hollered over the din, “how was it today?”

  Davin knocked back the last half of his warm beer and slammed it down onto the counter. The white foam stuck to his stubbly upper lip, prompting the woman to reach out and flick it away with her finger.

  The women that littered the gathering place were there for, as the brass put it, “morale”. Of course anyone would have known that they were basically hookers on the government’s dole, not that any of the men minded.

  In fact, “morale” had never been higher.

  “Not tonight, Sandy.”

  She frowned and tossed aside her spent smoke.

  “Oh come on honey,” her hand slipped down over his shoulder and onto his tight chest, “what’s bothering you?”

  The twang of hard liquor followed her hot breath as it rolled past Davin’s ear and down onto his shoulder. He sighed and turned on the barstool where he was seated. The corners of his pouty lips were locked in a firmly straight line.

  “All of this,” he swept his hand around quickly, “all of this shit.”

  The tipsy prostitute grabbed his wrist.

  “Let’s go. We can talk.”

  Davin didn’t fight back as she led him past tables full of dirty, ragged-looking men with more alcohol in them than sense.

  The long hallway that contained all of the girls’ rooms was just as dirty and stale as the rest of the decrepit building. It’s biggest saving-grace was that it was cool; free from the sticky body heat that was eternally present in the main drinking hall.

  Sandy’s room was the last one on the right, hidden by only a faded floral sheet that she threw to the side with what almost looked like contempt. Inside of the tiny room were a creaky old bed and a solitary, nearly empty dresser that was missing all but one of its brass handles. In the corner, near the window, was a chair with peeling white paint flaking off of its legs. Sandy flopped down onto the bed and motioned for Davin to sit.

  “How long have you been here, soldier?”

  She lit up another cigarette as he lowered himself down onto the dubiously-stable chair.

  “It’s been over a year,” he sighed and rubbed his forehead, “and there is no end in sight.”

  Sandy leaned forward on the bed, her already buxom cleavage nearly spilling out of her top, and tapped the ashes down onto the wooden floor.

  Davin continued, “I’m thinking about volunteering for a black-bar spot.”

  “No,” Sandy shook her head, “you know as well as I do that nobody ever comes back from those missions. It’s like trying to use a shotgun to fish in the ocean. What good does sending men in blind do, huh?”

  She was becoming visibly agitated.

  “I see all of these men run off for those missions, thinking that they will be some kind of savior.” She threw her cigarette onto the ground and smashed it with her foot, sending embers flying in every direction. Her pale brow was furrowed and a trickle of smoke leaked out of her mouth as she spoke, “There ain’t no savior in this situation.”

  Davin rested his elbows on his knees, “I guess.”

  His eyes wandered over her curvy body. Even in the heat of war there were some things that a man just needed, including sex. As his sight swept across her collar bones and down over the rounded mountains that were perched on her chest, his cock started to twinge and rise.

  Sandy could see the look in his eyes. She stood up from her bed, reached behind her waist, and unhooked the top loop of her billowy skirt. The garment fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her in only her corset and a thin pair of panties.

  Davin looked over her body once again but said nothing. After a long silence, Sandy shifted her weight onto her right leg, forcing out the smooth curve of her lace-laden hip.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  She licked her rouge-stained lips.

  “Well do you want to get fucked before you,” she cleared her throat, “before you really get fucked?”

  The swollen erection in Davin’s pants gave an obvious answer. For a moment he was taken aback by its solid persistence in spite of everything that was waiting for him the next day.

  “What the hell,” he muttered and stood up slowly, “maybe a little pick-me-up would do some good.”

  Sandy took his by the hand and pulled him in close to her.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  She reached down to his thick bulge and squeezed, releasing a swirling flurry of tingling throughout his fit body. The sensation made him almost feel like he was melting into her touch. Over the top of the rock-hard pinnacle, the crotch of his denim had grown uncomfortably tight.

  As if coming to the rescue, Sandy deftly unbuttoned his fly and allowed the throbbing pole to spill out into her petite hands. She immediately began to stroke it, moving slowly at first.

  Davin groaned and wedged his hand between the tight corset and her undulating breasts, where he found one of her already hardened nipples. He closed his eyes and toyed with her as she did the same for him.

  Within minutes of groping each other, the pair had stripped down to nothing but bare skin. Their movements were frantic, sending clothing flying every which way.

  Once naked, Sandy ran her hands through her copper locks and smirked before shoving Davin back onto her tiny bed. The ancient springs creaked menacingly under the weight as she crawled up over him. She stopped only once her already moist folds were rested on the slight curve of Davin’s shaft.

  “Here,” she said as she pulled a condom out from under her pillow.

  Davin quickly grabbed it, tore it open and rolled it down over himself. Within moments of securing the rubber, Sandy lowered her body down onto his rock-hard member. She immediately started to bounce up and down, her moans growing with each pass. Davin reached out to her swaying breasts and gripped them tightly.

  After a few minutes, Sandy leaned over and pressed her tits against his face. He grabbed each one and took turns licking her perky, large nipples.

  “Wait,” he said to her.

  She sighed, “What?”

  Davin shoved her off of him and onto the bed.

  “Bend over.”

  Sandy bit her lip and moaned softly as she took up a position on all fours. Davin was right behind her and shoved his cock into her channel right away. He forced the top half of her body down onto the bed, pinning her right where he wanted.

  Without mercy he pounded into her until he felt the familiar twinge of an orgasm looming. He curled his fingers against the soft skin on her back and slapped inside of her a few more times before his dick exploded his hot seed into the rubber.

  As he watched the prostitute climb up from the bed and start to dress again, he couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. The sensation was a welcome one, however, as it served to strengthen his resolve to accomplish the impossible.

  Once both of them dressed, Sandy took out another cigarette and offered one to him.

  “Oh,” he waved his hand, “no. I know how much those things cost.”

  Sandy sipped one out of the plain white packa
ge and forced it between his lips.

  “Don’t worry.” She was regarding him like a man on the way to be hanged, “It’s the least that I could do.”

  ---

  Dawn broke over the expansive camp in a fiery fashion, but Davin was already awake and particularly un-phased by the spectacle. His sleep the night before had been restless. There was little that one could do to prepare for the mission that he was about to undertake.

  A “black-bar mission”- as it was called by the soldiers -was operated on a volunteer-only basis. Nobody knew for sure what exactly happened; only that none of the volunteers ever came back. The assignments were billed as the saving grace for the Alliance powers: heroic missions that could lead to the nation’s triumph, if only just one man were to succeed.

  But it wasn’t a desire for fame or redemption that led Davin to step up to the challenge. He had been serving on the front lines for a long time, but he had suffered under the effects of a nation at war for almost all of his life. Then, one day after coming back to his tent and kicking off the worn boots that were barely held together, he realized that enough was enough.

  It was time for him to do his part to end the conflict, whether he survived or not.

  Just after breakfast in his tent, one of the captains poked his head inside and regarded him from behind a wide pair of sunglasses.

  “It’s time to go, soldier.”

  “Yessir,” he stood up and absentmindedly dusted off his gray shirt, “let’s do it.”

  Davin left behind all of his earthly possessions, however few there were, and was deposited near enemy lines as twilight began to set in. He was instructed to make his way into the main city of Kabarash, where he would get as close as possible to the enemy leader. Once there, he had six bullets; six chances to make the shot.

  The dividing line between the two groups was fertile and lush, fed by the ancient river that had flowed through the area for generations. On each side of its banks were ferns, trees and moss that extended as far as the eye could see. Davin had only heard rumors of the area before and it almost felt un-real for him to actually be standing there; to see it with his own eyes.

  He knelt down into a tall patch of foliage and looked across the muddy waters with a small pair of binoculars. There was no movement. The air around him was silent and still. Not even the birds dared to enter the area anymore.

  For the rest of the evening he stayed in position, waiting until the night fell before beginning his trek across the icy river and up the steep bank. His boots slipped in the sticky mud as he trudged up the hill, trying his best to move quietly.

  Once he had reached the top, he went back down onto one knee and looked out over the enemy turf with his binoculars. Far in the distance, a glowing orb of light over the capitol city of Kabarash shone into the black night sky. The mere sight made Davin’s heart race. Few people had gone far enough to actually see the city with their own eyes and, of those that did, none of them had ever returned to tell the tale.

  He lowered the binoculars down and shoved them into the small pouch that was slung over his shoulder, contemplating what his next move should be.

  It was then that a swift, hard blow fell on to the back of his head with a sickening crack. The world around him went dark almost instantly.

  ---

  Davin awoke to a flood of icy water being thrown in his face. He jumped up dramatically but was kept next to the wall by the shackles that attacked his wrists to it.

  “What the hell?”

  Whoever hit him had also taken the liberty of stripping him completely naked, allowing the water to flow over him. His large nipples instantly hardened and started to prickle. Small goose bumps formed everywhere that the liquid touched. Even the flesh covering his flaccid cock tingled.

  “Who is there?” He demanded.

  Near the back corner of the barren room, a deep voice echoed out from the darkness.

  “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to join us.”

  Davin pulled on the restraints with all that he had but they didn’t budge.

  “Let me go now!”

  The man just laughed and took a few steps forward, allowing Davin to get a good look at him. Only a few feet behind was another man, though he was quite a bit shorter. Both of them were dressed in matching olive uniforms. The one in front held a long, sheathed sword in his hands.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Davin scowled, “How would I know?”

  The big man laughed, “Exactly! You wouldn’t know, would you?”

  “Cut to the chase, you ugly son of a bitch.”

  The smaller man chuckled and ran a hand over his bald head, “He’s got balls.”

  “I can see that.” He paused, “I am Silva, and this is Oron.”

  He pointed to Davin with the blade.

  “And you, my friend, are going to do whatever we say.”

  Davin responded with a ball of spit that landed at the very tip of the big man’s boot. Silva tapped the shoe on the ground. His smirk quickly faded into a frown.

  He motioned to his companion, “Come on.”

  The smaller man moved swiftly to where Davin was chained and lifted him up from the ground by one arm, and then forced him around so that he was facing the gray wall. Davin closed his eyes and rested his head on the rough surface. From behind, he could hear the slick, shimmering sound of the sword being taken out of its sheath.

  “Now, young man, “the flat side of the blade gently tapped the small of his back, “are you prepared to pay for your crimes?”

  As tough and brash as Davin was, he wasn’t above the weight of his mortality that was pressing down into his chest, making it hard to breathe. The blood pumping quickly in his hands and feet felt like it had turned to ice. He wondered if the fate befalling him was the same as all of the men before. As the cold steel lifted off his skin, he could taste the acidic twang of the blood to come in the back of his throat. His head spun, blurring the gray wall by his face.

  In the fraction of a second that he had to recognize the sound, Davin closed his eyes and waited as the tell-tale whoosh of the weapon filled his ears. A hot stinging radiated out through his body and a boyish yelp escaped his throat, prompting the men behind him to cackle loudly.

  “You laugh as you kill a man?!” Davin asked angrily.

  Silva laughed again, “Killing you, huh?”

  He reared back and brought the blade down onto his skin again. A sharp pop rattled out as the metal made contact with his rosy ass.

  “What are you-“

  SNAP. The blade came down again even harder and it left a little knick almost an inch long. A tiny trickle of blood spilled out.

  “We don’t kill here.”

  “What?”

  He throttled him again. The force was hard enough to make him wince visibly.

  Oron leaned over and placed his lips close to Davin’s right ear, “All of those men who never came back simply chose not to leave.”

  Silva whipped him again, leaving yet another cut.

  “Why,” Davin whimpered, “why?”

  “Because,” Silva’s tone was close to a growl, “we know how to treat a prisoner.”

  The sword spanked him one last time before the big man threw it to the side.

  “What do you mean?”

  Oron leaned down close and wrapped his long fingers around Davin’s growing erection.

  “That’s how.”

  As much as he wanted to fight back on principle, Davin couldn’t muster the desire to do so. The sensitive area nestled at the base of his growing shaft was tingling. He could feel a wave of arousal wash over him at that moment. The pain spreading out from behind him was like a drug; a drug that he needed another hit of.

  Silva grabbed onto his hips and pressed his body up against him. Davin could tell that the two men had undressed at some point. Both of their poles rubbed up against him, as if to guarantee his fate.

  “Please,” Davin tried to fight back the con
fusing feeling inside of him, “please, no.”

  “Ha,” Oron laughed and began to stroke him, “sorry.”

  His grip tightened around Davin’s cock and the pace of the strokes increased. From behind, Silva reached down and used three fingers to smother a cold, slick jelly over Davin’s tightly puckered ass hole. He knew what was coming and it made him weak in the knees. His entire body quivered.

  The throbbing girth of Silva’s dick rubbed up and down between his cheeks, spreading the lube all over. It eventually came to rest with the head just over his rear hole, where it massaged in small, tight circles.

  Every nerve in Davin’s body felt like it was on fire. Eventually the primal desire boiling just under the surface overwhelmed his senses. He felt every muscle relax. The tension in his back released, allowing him to arch up his hips and spread open wide for his eager captor.

  Silva didn’t waste any time. As Oron went on jerking Davin off, the tip of Silva’s thick member slipped into him. He cried out loudly.

  “Oh god!”

  But just an inch wasn’t going to be enough; not for any of them. He gasped loudly and gritted his teeth as the bulging cock pushed deeper and deeper. It split him open and forced its way in, rubbing up against tender patches of flesh that Davin was feeling for the very first time. His moans echoed through the room.

  “Yes, oh fuck yes!”

  Silva, once he was finally buried in Davin’s tight ass, gripped his powerful hips and began to thrust in and out. He wasted very little time in speeding up until he was pounding into him furiously. Beads of sweat rolled down off of Davin’s brow as he pulled down onto the metal chains. To his side, Oron stroked himself shamelessly and shimmied his way into the small space between him and the wall.

  Oron’s lips surrounded Davin’s bouncing member with finesse. He immediately began to suckle and lick him, all while quickly jerking himself off.

  The sensation of both men using and abusing his body made Davin buck and rock with pleasure. The powerful pounding from behind forced him back and forth with loud, wet slaps. He looked down below, only to catch Oron excitedly erupt a stream of his cum onto the ground in front of him.

  It made Davin want them even more.

  He shoved his hips forward, thrusting his cock into the back of Oren’s throat, but Silva’s deep pounding behind pulled him back. It went on like that for some time: pushing, pulling, pounding and thrusting until Davin felt the muscles in the pit of his gut begin to tighten. They were as hard as his busy pole.