[darkstalker]

The picture trembles in Lenny’s hand and Romstad can already see Lenny’s shaft tenting up below his pants, his hand quivering as it rubs the long end. Lenny is looking at the photo Romstad has given him of Kari. Those cameras sure do come in handy, he thinks. Especially when you can print the footage there. The picture Lenny holds in particular is angled to show the woman’s nice ample bosom from above, her top teasing at what surely lies beneath.
Lenny, now a good deal older then he was in the war, thin and wiry with wrinkled skin. He looks at the photo Romstad has handed him, his hand twitching as he taps it on his knee, trying to ignore his dick that’s pushing against his trousers. “You sure she’s not American?” says Lenny, licking his lips.
“You mean white, bro,” says Colbert. “Every bitch we’ve had here is American!”
“Ye-yeah,” says Lenny, not fully understanding or caring about what Colbert says. “You sure she’s not white, boss man? The bitch sure looks white to me,” he says while licking his lips, a wide look to his eyes like a lost boy wanting to believe in santa.
The senator drinks from his whisky and smiles. “Yes, I’m sure. The bitch has those Asian slanted eyes. Might have some white mixed into her for good flavoring, but who cares? We’ve got an Asian bitch for the flailing. College kid without a job, or at least one with any importance. I had Cynthia look it up. So we can use her for the whole month! Then when we’re done, we can sell her or get rid of her.”
“Seriously boss?” says Colbert, the only black man in the group. He is still big, but chunkier then before. He looks back down at his own photo, probably gazing down at Kari’s creamy thighs as his photo is angled up between the girl’s skirt. Nothing much to go on except the shadows of the whore’s shapely legs, but it’s enough. “Fuck man. This is going to be some fucking payoff here.”
There is a puff of smoke as Dirk looks towards him, his eyes filled with a dark malice. “We gonna need to hold back like we did on your secretary bitch? I’m tired of holding back.”
He drops the photo he has on the table and leans forward. “If I do this, I want to make this gook really suffer. Been a long time since I get any real action.”
Dirk has a scar running down his left eye but both eyes are cold and hard and still able to see. Though aged like the rest of them, the darkness inside him doesn’t seem to have dulled one bit. It is still a ruthless and cold thing that wishes to hurt people.
Romstad had already had to make a few calls to make sure Dirk didn’t get into trouble and then provided him with women that were more... expendable. Those whose disappearances wouldn’t be noticed. But Dirk always carries that desire. A desire to lash out at people.
“Only part you’ll have to hold back on is that we keep the bitch long enough to enjoy her. We’ve got a full month to use the bitch every which way and when we get bored, well, there’s always the toys to use to make her less boring.”
The men all laugh at that, knowing full well what that means. Dirk nods, not fully satisfied, but willing to try the game. Good, thinks Romstad grinning. This will... It is then that the doorbell rings.
Electricity crackles and the men look to their left at Specs. He has a stun gun that sparks with electricity at its edges, glowing blue. Lowering the weapon, he says, “we should take her to the old warehouse on 59'. Won’t have to worry about people coming to check on her or us over there.”
“But what about filming it,” says Romstad, already getting up from the couch to answer the door. “Not a concern. I’ve already set up the cameras.”
Romstad smiles. Specs always has an idea, planning ahead for any given situation. It’s too bad big Bob isn’t here to join the festivities, but he’d been shot a few years ago when trying to evade police for some less then innocent affairs. Shame really, he really would’ve let it out on the poor girl.
Speaking of...
He heads to the door, Specs close behind. He opens it quickly, looking over at the girl. She is still dressed in the same slutty tube top and blouse with that skirt riding up her legs. He smiles, a dark grin of teeth. This is just as he wanted her. He says, “We’ve been expecting you.”
The girl moves a strand of hair from her eyes and says. “Yes, I’m sorry for being a bit late, I... wait. We?”
“Yes, we,” says Romstad, motioning her into the room. The young woman glances over at the men assembled. Some faces grim and some with wide rowdy smiles that make her skin shiver. Like they’re undressing her with their eyes already. She chuckles lightly, her breathing already becoming quicker. “Come on in,” says Romstad, putting an arm across her shoulder. “These are simply some of the men from the platoon who want to speak to you about what happened back in ‘nam.”
The door slams shuts behind them both with an audible bang as if cutting off Kari’s final retreat. She gives it one last glance before turning back to the living room.

*****

Kari flinches at how loudly the door sounds as it bangs closed. The echo filling the room. The black man is the first to get up, taking her hand into his own. “My,” he says, giving her a grand grin, white teeth splitting his face in half. “You’re some fine looking piece of ass,” he says, laying a gentle kiss on her hand.
She pulls it away, rubbing her hand. “Thank you,” she says quietly, not sure if to take his gestures as insult or compliment. Probably a little bit of both, she thinks sourly. And more one then the other.
Romstad’s own hand on her shoulder is rubbing more then she feels comfortable with and she pulls away from it. “Our little lady friend here wants to know more about the war,” says Romstad, putting his hands into his pockets. Kari notes he looks more informal now. An old duster jacket and button up blue shirt without a tie. He was in a robe earlier, but somehow, he seems more informal now...
She feels a hand on her leg rubbing up her thigh and she moves quickly, slapping the hand away. “Hey!” she yells.
“Forgive Lenny,” says the senator. “He gets a bit excited when he sees new women.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Well keep your hands to yourself Lenny!”
The man licks his upper lip, his mouth twisting into a type of grin. “She has nice skin,” he says. It’s like he didn’t hear her at all, his eyes darting over her body as if they were his hands tracing along their edges. Kari shudders and turns towards the men.
“What can you tell me about the war?” she asks, pulling out her pencil and pad from the purse she has slung over her shoulder.
“The war?” says the black man. “Why you want to know about shit like that? It’s all in the past.”
“The war,” says another man with a scar crossing his eye. He takes a long puff from a cigarette and blows slowly, the smoke filling the space above him. “That was about stalking your prey, feeling the eyes in the trees always following you and putting a bullet between those eyes before they could do the same to you.”
“What about the women in the war?” says Kari, flipping her books open. “We’ve heard about many atrocities committed during this time. Do you care to elucidate?”
“Elucidate?!” says Lenny, looking towards her. “Man, these college sluts sure know them big words now adays!”
“Excuse me?” says Kari, her blood beginning to boil. She walks towards the man, leaning down towards him. “Do you think I’m some hooker you can give a 50$ tip to and think that’s it?”
“No,” says the man with the scar, flipping a blade open she hadn’t seen. “You’re just a rich bitch who’s been hanging on to her father’s britches too long. But that dumb fuck isn’t here to help you, is he, gook?”
“What?” she asks, feeling the first traces of true fear running down her spine. This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come here after all.
The man with the scar gets up, walking towards her and the other men laugh and she stumbles back, trying to avoid him. She almost trips as she walks backwards, her purse slipping from her arm and spilling on the floor, her cell slipping out with it.
The black man picks it up, looking at it. “Well well, fancy shit you’ve got here,” he says. “Too bad it won’t do you no good.”
He gets up then, along with the scar faced man who still walks towards her and slams his foot down on her phone. The crunch of wires and circuitry splitting is loud in the spacious room.
“Please!” she says. “What’s going on? I’m just trying to do a report.”
The man with the scar is on her suddenly, pushing her roughly against the back wall so she hits hard, knife under her throat, pressing deep against her skin. “You want to know about the women in the war?” he says darkly. “You want to know how we violated those gooks, how we made them beg for our cocks to plug their filmy little holes and how we tortured them to death? That’s what you want to know?!” His eyes are dark and menacing and Kari feels something inside slip. A nerve....
She is shaking now and she looks down at his knife as he runs it slowly over the skin of her neck, tracing the collar bone and then over her left breast, over her tank top, tracing it over the tip of her teet and digging the point in so it just scratches the surface. “ow,” she moans, banging her head against the wall.
“You think that hurt,” says the man darkly, running the blade across her cheek. “That won’t be nothing to what we do to you. Bet your hymen is still plugged up and you’re still a fucking virgin.” He spits in her face, the spit splattering across her eyes and cheek. “Well that isn’t going to last, bitch. We’re going to pop your sweet holes. All of them! And then we’ll make you beg to be killed so you know exactly what those gooks felt like back in ‘nam. Exactly as you wanted to know.” He says this while running the blade across her neck, barely touching the skin.
“Please no...” she moans, her body trembling.
The blade slams into the wall next to her right ear, making her shriek. The man leans his face close, his stubble inches away from hers, his hot breath stinking of tobacco and whisky. “Gonna’ show it to you, beginning to end. Won’t you like that... bitch?”
He accentuates the words by running his tongue down from her neck up over her cheek. Something in her breaks and she screams, roughly pushing back at the man, making him stumble backwards and turning down towards the hall, running towards the door. Not thinking wether it’s locked or not, she runs, just wanting escape.
The thin man with the glare reflecting off his glasses is unexpected as is the sudden jolt of sharp teeth hitting her left breast followed by a sharp crackle of electricity that runs through her body and slams her backwards. She hits the floor, twitching. Her muscles not wanting to respond properly.
“Bitch looks like a skewered tuna,” she hears the black man say as her body goes through spasms. “Look at those tits jiggle!”
Through blurry eyes she sees the senator standing over her. He leans down towards her, a bottle in his hand and a rag in the other. “You wanted to learn what those women went through?” he says, pushing the wet rag towards her face, covering her nose and mouth. “You’ll get what you want. First hand.”
She stares wide eyed, trying to resist but with her body unwilling to answer just yet. She can smell the chloroform, feel it running through her systems. With her body already weakened by the electric shock of the tazer she felt earlier, her body has no resistance. The senator smiles, the rest of the men laughing behind him and her mind falls into a deep cold pit and she can only hope this is a really bad dream and she’s still in bed, asleep.


Romstad pulls away from the girl, her head flopping to the side, a small bit of drool escaping her lips and puddling on the floor. Her body still twitches slightly, after effects from Spec’s little gun. It is beautiful how those breasts tremble, her legs rubbing against one another as if wanting a man’s shaft plunging their depths already.
“Load her up in the van boys,” he says, looking down at the college woman’s creamy thighs and her milky breasts, the hard tits pressing against the thin fabric. “We’re going to have a long night with ms. Kari Chen Saiyuki here. A very long night.”

*****

The van rolls down the streets quietly except for the words of the rowdy men. Specs checks the mirror, checking in on the men while the senator sits next to him, sighing. In the back, the lights are off but the men all watch the girl stretched out between them through the little lighting given by the passing cars and street lamps. She moans quietly but isn’t coming to just yet. She looks so helpless with her dark hair spread out behind her head, framing her round face with those large breasts rising and falling with each breath she takes. Just inviting to be raped, thinks Romstad.
Colbert laughs, licking his upper lip as he looks at the girl they have. “Damn,” he says, “you sure got a fine looking bitch this time around, captain. Can’t remember the last time you got one who was a D-cup. How long we gonna keep her this time around?”
Romstad corrects the mirror so he can look at the black man who sits grinning at him the white teeth reflecting so eerily against his dark skin. “Till the bitch is black and blue son. Till she’s black and blue and we don’t need or want her anymore.”
The black man turns back to the woman, her head rocking back and forth with the movements of the van, her body jostled with each bump of the road, breasts jiggling nicely.
“Seriously?” says Colbert, looking at the cleavage of her large round breasts. They rise slowly, nipples pressing against the fabric from the cold. “I don’t think I’d get tired of this bitch,” he says, leaning forward and tracing his fingers ever so carefully over the skin of her breasts. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting an imaginary flavor on his tongue, licking his fingers tentatively.
“You damned cunt,” says Dirk, looking over towards him. “No wonder we lost the war with soft pricks like you.”
“What?” says Colbert, his eyes growing large. “Are you trying to say something?”
Dirk grabs the woman’s right breast in his hand, squeezing it tightly, making her moan in her sleep. “If you’re going to do something,” he says acidly. “Do it right!” His fingers dig into the woman’s skin, nails biting into her flesh. The woman rocks her head, her lips parting, letting out a soft moan.
“You boys better not wake her up yet!” says Romstad irritably, adjusting his mirror. “I don’t want the party started without me. I want to see that gook’s eyes when we start the fun. Besides,” he says, adjusting the mirror to keep an eye on the men. “I don’t want her to have any clue where we’re taking her. The more confused she is, the better!”
“Yeah, so lay off her man,” says Colbert, pushing Dirk back. Dirk’s fingers fall away from the woman and her moans subside, but his anger does not. The blade that flicks out from Dirk’s wrist is suddenly under Colbert’s neck, nestling uncomfortably under the man’s chin making him push back against the wall. “He-hey man. Ease off,” he says, raising his hands with palms up.
“That’s why I said you lost us the war,”says Dirk, pulling the knife back slowly, tracing it against the black man’s neck. “Cuz you bitches don’t know how to do your shit.”
“I can do my shit,” says Colbert, watching as Dirk pulls the knife away and traces the blade slowly over the contours of the woman’s breasts. The knife and its owner make the black man unwell and the woman stirs slightly, the knife blade just tracing a light wound on her soft skin as it digs in partially.
Dirk turns the blade to its flat end and takes the drop of blood on the point, licking the blood off. “Now there is a real taste in that, boy. Real one hundred percent gook blood here.”
“You’re full of it man. She’s half white. Can you taste that?”
The man takes the blade from his lips, twisting it slowly and stares at it. Colbert stares as well, the light shimmering off the blade with the passing lamp lights.
“Doesn’t matter,” says Dirk, twisting the knife about. “She’s one hundred percent whore. And that’s all I care about.”
“Fucking...”
The knife is suddenly under his chin again and Colbert finds himself leaning back. “Hey...” says Colbert. “I...”
“Enough of that, you two,” says Romstad. “You’ll wake the bitch up before it’s time. So quit your yammering and just sit ready. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The girl moans and both men look at each other, knowing neither is touching her. “She has soft skin,” says Lenny. Both men look down at the wiry man who rubs the woman’s leg up and down, coming particularly close to her crotch. “She’ll be a good fucking.”
The man leans forward, running his tongue over the girl’s leg, a trail of slime and saliva left on her pale skin, gleaming softly in the moonlight. “Yesss...” he says, pulling away. “Good fucking alright.”
The man leans back, clasping his hands together, smiling numbly. Colbert starts laughing, shaking his head. “Hill billy hick,” says Dirk, twisting his knife. But there is a soft smile on his face and he nods approvingly to Colbert, making a shake of his head towards the girl. Colbert nods in reply and leans down, running his hand over the girl’s breast. She moans softly, her lips parting. Colbert continues to kneed her flesh, his hand slipping beneath her top and gripping her nipple, rubbing it between his two fingers and squeezing. The girl moans, her back beginning to arch.
“Enough you two!” yells Romstad, slapping his hand behind the seat. He leans back between the two seats, looking between the two men. “Don’t let me catch you touching the whore again until we’re at the warehouse. All the supplies are there, so don’t ruin it! Last thing we need is some officer pulling us over because the bitch is screaming.”
He gets back into his seat, looking into his rear view mirror. “Now settle down you two. I’ve buried enough men and I’m not afraid of burying two more.”
Dirk leans back against the door and shakes his head. Colbert just chuckles softly while Lenny looks between the two, not fully gazing at anyone. Only the sounds of the vehicle rocking accompanied by the soft moans from the girl as she begins to stir are heard for the rest of the trip. Though she stirs, she does not waken. The lights become less and less as they enter the less populated areas of the city. These are the dredges and ghettos of the city where they initially set up their little operation for bringing in the “merchandise” as they liked to call the women.
The van comes to a halt and Romstad is quick to step out and slide the doors open. “Get the bitch out and ready. We’ll put a use to all your pent up testosterone in the warehouse.”
The men nod, one taking the girl by the arms and the other by her legs. She is stirring more visibly now. The effects of the chloroform and shock seem to be wearing off.
“Poor bitch doesn’t know what she’s going to be in for,” whispers Colbert. “Glad I’m not her.”
“Stop talking and let’s get the bitch inside. Quicker she’s in and locked tight, quicker we can get to fucking her holes,” says Dirk.
“Now you’re talking man! I knew you weren’t all up tight like that.”
Dirk shakes his head, ignoring the man before him. The woman starts to squirm in his grip as the doors roll open and the crunch of stone turns into the tapping of boots on stone. Then she is dropped, an audible oof coming from her lips as her body is dropped suddenly with an unceremonious thud, her body starting to squirm more fully now. She hits her head hard on the floor with a crack but the men simply smile. A little bit of disorientation to the girls never hurt their fun. They go back to finish sealing the doors and wait for Romstad.

At the van Romstad leans over the driver’s side of the window and looks towards Specs. “You sure you don’t want to break this bitch in? The boys will be more then willing to share.”
Specs shakes his head, bringing up his tazer and letting it crackle. “No,” he says quietly. “I prefer to break in my whores in private. I’ll wait until you’re all done for the night.”
“Suit yourself,” says Romstad, tapping the hood of the car twice. “But you’ll be in for a long wait!”
“I know,” says Specs, settling into the cushion of the seat. “But I can wait. I’m patient.”
Romstad shakes his head and starts walking towards the large warehouse. “Alright!” he yells, “let’s get this bitch started on her rounds!”
There are cat calls and whoops heard from the warehouse, mostly from Colbert, but some he recognizes from Lenny too. Specs watches as the gates shut with a rumble and leans his chair back, resting his arms across his stomach and settling in for a long sleep. It will be some time before the men grow tied and give him his turn, after all. Why not get some rest before hand?

*****

Kari moans, feverish nightmares assailing her of the man with the scar running his blade over her body, teasing her breasts and then shoving it into her chest with a crunch, or her stomach, and pulling down. In her nightmares her entrails and viscera spill out as the man looks down at her coldly, his eyes glowing a deep red. Then he’d put the blade to her throat and slide it quickly, the blood flying from her wound. Her eyes would go wide and then the hellish dream would start anew.
Each time starting with that shock to her breast from the small taser with its prong like apendages that sent so many jolts of pain and agony through her system, paralyzing it so she was at the mercy of the dark man who would gut her.
Her eyes squeeze shut, wanting to force her to wake up. Certainly this can’t be real, it can’t have really happened that she’d been put into this situation? Why? She hadn’t done anything wrong. Why would she be the one chosen as a victim for a bunch of psychopathic rapist?
Her eyes squeeze tight, hearing loud voices that sound almost like drunken men at a bar. She can almost see their leering gazes in her mind and it makes her shudder. Those eyes... undressing her, stripping her of her clothes, groping at her flesh and prodding it open to attack the most intimate regions of her body...
She feels herself lifted, carried, her body weightless as it slumps between two masses. When her body hits the floor with a crack, she rolls to the side, instinctively holding her head where it begins to throb. Her eyes flutter rapidly and she begins to wake. The pain receptors do their work activating her senses. She moans audibly and gets up slowly, coughing and then feeling some bile push up her throat.
She vomits. The sickly matter coming up her throat and wetting the floor with a wet slapping sound. She coughs a few more times, her eyes trying to adjust to the dark lighting, her hands and legs cold from the cool floor. She wraps her arms around her body, hugging herself for some warmth, as she hears doors rattle closed and bang shut, clicking with a clackt, a red light flaring at the ends. This is the only light she can see from within the large room aside from the little light coming from the moon pushing through the windows several feet above her.
“Hello?” she says, standing on unsteady knees, her voice sounding hollow and echoing in the room.
“Turn on the lights!” she hears the senator’s voice bark. “I can’t see anything in this god damned dark!”
There is a loud chuckling and Kari’s heart stops, a cold sweat running down her body. She recognizes those voices. Senator Romstad and the black man. Where are the others? She whirls around, trying to find them but only sees shadows moving within shadows. The building is dark and she can see barely anything.
There is a brilliant surge of electricity as something sparks loudly and the lights overhead begin to click, banging to life, each one coming on overhead and bathing the near empty room in light.
Kari backs away from the incoming lights, her breathing coming out rapidly as she trips over boxes and chains behind her in her haste to avoid the light. The light is too quick and they are on her before she can think to find a place to hide. She backs herself against the boxes, staring wide eyed at the men who are several feet away from her. They stay there, watching her, cold eyes on her body like the leering men she’d imagined and she shivers at that look in their eyes... She knows right off what that look means and she wants none of it! But.... as she looks from one man to the next, she’s not sure she’ll have a choice.

Romstad looks towards the woman, her back pressed against the far wall, arms spread wide, her breasts heaving inside that tight tube top, hot little nipples pressing against the fabric. Already he wants to rip that top off and sink his teeth into those great large gams and drag his teeth across them. He steadies himself, tapping his pants lightly. Not yet... not yet... First he needs to savor her fear then he can devour her body. Everything in proper order.
He squints at the girl, licking his upper lip and grins. He can not make out the details quite so clearly from this distance but he can swear her eyes are wide and large, her mouth forming a small “O”. He always enjoys the fear in the eyes of these whores, wether gook or white, they’re all the same. Cocky and uptight until the situation turns on them and no one is there to protect them their soft little hides. Then they turn to begging and running, hoping that’ll be enough to quell his thirst. It never is of course and this makes them scream and beg more when he begins the actual festivities. This whore has no idea what she’s in for. Romstad wrings his hands, thinking on it. She’s just the way he likes her. Scared and confused.
“Colbert,” he says, motioning to the large black man. “Go bring the bitch over so we can play with her a bit. No point in leaving her there on her lonesome.”
“Sure thing boss,” says the black man, already licking his lips. He is walking towards her already, a tall imposing giant and the woman is turning away, stumbling and tripping over boxes, her skirt riding up that firm little behind, just inviting them to fuck her over. “No! No! Stay away! Stay away!” she screams, her voice frantic and shrill like.
Romstad laughs. How these bitches change when they’re away from their homes and familiar settings. He’s done this a few times before but this time he intends to enjoy the whore to the fullest. It’s been a god awful long time since he’s had a gook bitch to play with. Just all these pasty white Europeans. About time he gets a nice slant eyed whore to play with. He feels his cock throbbing against his pants. Yes, he wants to poke the bitch with it. But all in good time.
“Oh shit!” he hears Colbert yell.
“What?” says Romstad, raising his head in surprise, a bit of irritation entering his voice. He looks towards Colbert who is lifting his boot, some sickly substance on the floor sticking to it. That shouldn’t be there, he thinks. They cleaned up last time. They...
“Bitch fucking threw up already! God fuck!” he hears Colbert curse.
“Well, get her and make her clean it with her filthy tongue,” says Romstad calmly, imaging the tears running down her eyes as she’d have to lick the filthy slime encrusted floor with her sweet tongue. He imagines grinding his heel into her temple, forcing her cheek against the shit and feels his member twitching, precum leaking out already from the head. “Show her we don’t like our shop getting dirty!”
“Yeah, good idea,” says Colbert in a mumbling voice. “I.. Where is she?”
Romstad looks up towards the end of the room where the girl had been and sees no one. The bitch is gone! No. Not gone. Somewhere in this room. With the items for sexual play as well as some of the more regular storage items like old cars, tools and twisted metal along with the boxes and piping spread around everywhere, the bitch has disappeared somewhere.
“Find her!” says Romstad. “Don’t let her get away!”

Dirk watches from the upper stairwell. Even though the senator had been a Sargent back in the war the man has let himself go. He walks with a limp and almost teetering, like a drunk with too many beers. He’s become incompetent, like the rest of them. A bumbling fool, thinks Dirk, a sneer crossing his lips.
While the Negro and Romstad had chatted the girl had run out from under them. But he’d seen her as she’d done so. Seen as she’d tried to slip by and hide herself, hunkering down behind an old dismantled car. He smiles, chuckling as he slowly hunkers down and silently comes down the walkway.

******

Kari breathes heavily, pressed down against an old dismantled impala. The rust flakes off against her trembling fingers and her breathing sounds too loud for her own safety. She watches the two men. Three as the thin one named “Lenny,” joins in to search for her. But weren’t there four? Where was the fourth?
She cranes her neck as much as she dares, looking over the wreckage, trying to locate any signs of the fourth one. The most dangerous, she thinks. He’d been the one to slam her against the wall and played with her, sliding his knife over her skin. She shudders at the thought. The bas...
Her hair is suddenly wrenched back, a thick knife pressed against her throat. “Move and I slit that little swan neck of yours, gook,” whispers a dark voice. She shakes against the hard frame, her bowels releasing themselves as a stream of piss rolls down her legs.
“Fuck!” the man yells, seeing her piss herself and drops the knife from her neck, letting go of her hair at the same time. She screams and ducks out from behind the impala.
“Grab her,” he hears the senator yell. She charges out, looking towards the big Negro, as she tries to dash around him. His arm swings out before her in a quick move. It’s not a grab he went for and she realizes this too late. First is the impact of the blow as she feels her lips slam against her teeth, the force jarring against her cheek and then her body falling back in slow motion, hitting the floor with a crash, the wind suddenly knocked out of her.
She cries, lifting her hand to her bruised cheek, trembling as the boots come down in front of her, surrounding her, cutting off her escape.
“No need to catch the bitch if you can knock her down,” she hears the surly voice say. Then she is being picked up by the roots of her hair, jerked up from the floor, struggling and screaming, her breasts swinging in her top as she is dragged towards the converging group.
“Not bad Colbert,” says the senator with a grin, “but we weren’t supposed to damage her today.”
“No sweat, boss,” says the black man, still holding her as she struggles, the tears streaming down her eyes. “Just a lil’ bit of bruising. Nothing she won’t get over by tomorrow.”
“Let me go!” she screams as the senator walks up to her, his paunch belly almost in her face. “You’ll be sorry if you keep me here!”
The crackt against her face makes her take herself back. The senator looks at her, holding her cheek and grabs her by the neck, lifting her almost dangling from her feet. “Little stupid mouse,” he says, “don’t ever run off unless we tell you to!” He throws her back against the ground, watching as she sprawls against the floor, her large breasts pointing skyward, attracting him.
With a laugh he watches as her skirt rides up her thighs revealing her ample buttocks, perfect skin smearing with oil. “Ha! Ha! Look at that! The gook is already flashing us!” All the men laugh with gusto, staring at her, leering down at her...
She quickly pulls down her skirt, anger balling up in her fist, body trembling with rage. “Shut up!” she says, standing and lunging at the man. A fist slams into her stomach, knocking her upper body forward.
“Oh!” says the senator laughing and jerking her head up as he grabs her hair. “This one’s got spirit! How about we play a game with her?” His lips twist into a sickly grin, wide teeth seeming yellowed, eyes big saucers with little emotion and even less compassion. The blood vessels stand out clearly against the whites, the balls of the eyes trembling with their movements as they run over her body.
She places her hands on his arm, jerking, trying to get him to let go, the pain on her scalp burning. “Let me go!” she yells.
“Oh we will,” says the senator, almost quietly, almost gently. “But dear, you’re going to have to play a game with us first.”
She ceases her struggles, her body trembling. “Wh-what kind of game?” she asks, meekly, fear entering her senses. Any game these men think of can not be good. The gleam in the senator’s eyes makes her shake worse then before. She is certain the game will not be in her favor...

******

The senator smiles darkly, his yellowed teeth showing clearly to her, tar stains marring the common coloration. He pulls on her hair, jerking it by the roots as he leans towards her and spits in her face, temporarily blinding her. “The game,” he says as she blinks her eyes, trying to clear the spit and grime on her eyes, feeling it run down her cheek. “Is you hear a story.”
“A- a story?” she says in surprise. “What are you talking about, you sick fuck?! What are you playing at?”
His large hand comes down with a loud crack, smacking across her cheek, making her eyes water. Jerking her hair again, he says, “The game is this. You hear this story without flinching, shivering or crying and we let you go. Sound fair bitch?”
She spits in his face and growls, “why should I believe you?”
He laughs, turning to the other men. “She wonders why she should believe us,” he crows, raising his arms to the air and laughing, his paunch belly jiggling with the sounds he makes. The others laugh in turn, even the one with the scar. The senator smiles, looking down at the girl’s grim expression, how it accentuates her chin and cheekbones, that fire in her eyes. He’ll enjoy breaking that. His eyes wander down her body, looking at her full bosom and his smile widens. He’ll enjoy breaking her and more. His hand goes down towards her firm flesh and squeezes.
Kari flinches, feeling the man’s hand squeezing her right breast as his nails dig into the tender skin, drawing crimson lines across it. “See,” he says in a low whisper, “I don’t need to lie to you cuz I know you’re gonna’ fail.”
“Try me,” she growls, a fierce determination in her eyes. She tries to ignore the feeling of the old coot’s nails against her skin, how he touches her so wantonly, massaging her flesh and squeezing it. When she gets out, he’ll pay for touching her. They all will. But for now she’ll need to play his game.
“Well,” he says, a thin smile running down his lips. “The game is easy and not one of us will flinch, but you might. You know why?”
“Probably cuz you think I’m a weak girl,” she hisses with venom in her voice. “Just like any other masochistic ass, you think I can’t take it.”
He pulls her hair harder, making her wince as he pulls her head back at a painful angle. He leans towards her ear and whispers, “No you little gook. It’s cuz everything we did to this tramp I’m gonna tell you about, we’re gonna do ten times worse to you.” His tongue flicks against her ear and she struggles, screaming wildly and snapping her teeth at the air, kicking in wild abandon. A good kick allows herself to free herself.
With this she manages to wrench herself from his grip, turning to run only to be grabbed by the thin lanky one, slamming into his body as she does so. Despite her kicking and screaming he holds her firm, and the punch from the black man into her gut does not help her. “You can rub against me all you like, gook slut,” says the thin man. “I like how your ass feels against my cock.”
The senator jerks her scalp up once more and shakes his head. “You should be a little more compliant then that, whore.” He runs his hand down her cheek and she shivers feeling the hard skin on it, the rough callouses rubbing against her skin.

He smiles. Romstad can feel the girl shiver under his palm. She’s already lost and he hasn’t even started the story. He could call it now and rape her but it’s more fun to watch her suffer and struggle, her eyes bulging and heart beating faster as he describes the details of what’s been done to other girls.
He twist his lips and licks the upper edge of one. “Alright girl, let me tell you a little story...”

******

Romstad runs his fingers over her cheek, making her shudder. He laughs, looking at how she squeezes her eyes, at how a shiver runs down her skin already. Already, she’s lost. But they can prolong it. The psychological torture is just as amusing as the actual thing.
He thinks back on that event. It happened many years ago, he says. Back when the war was near the end...
Or more properly said, when the government decided it couldn’t lose any more soldiers on the front lines of some god forsaken country. On this day he and his men had some shore leave off on one of the islands near their camp and stopped by a restaurant. Their old truck had rumbled to a stop, squealing and shrieking with every shift and grunt of the changing of the gears. Romstad had looked at his men, looking from one to the other and said when looking at an old dilapidated restaurant, “fuck it. Don’t know about you boys, but I’m starved for some good old style cooking.”
“You’re not going to get that here,” Bob had said, his fat lips spilling spittle, squinty eyes narrowing. “Nothing American in these parts.”
“Maybe...” Romstad had acceded, looking upon the old restaurant with whimsical eyes. “But I still need something to fill that empty hole in my gut.” The sound of his stomach gurgling had attested to that statement.
Colbert had clapped him on the shoulder and laughed raucously. “Yeah, you got it sarge. Don’t give a shit if ain’t some old creole stew or not. Need something to fill the gut.”
“Bunch of heathens, all of ya,” had growled Bob, crossing his fat arms with a sour look making his already fat lips pucker out even further. Noone had paid him any mind. The old truck had ground to a halt and the men exited, hooting and calling, clamoring like small children. All of them had been excited and happy to be on leave and not have to worry about some loose bullet zinging past and hitting them in the skull to put them in an early grave.
They exited quickly with big Bob slumping out a few minutes later, grouchy and growling, the truck groaning in its own right as he’d slipped out. They’d all ignored him, their stomachs leading the way. Any food would do them at that time. Especially compared to the gnawing empty mites in their bellies.
“Don’t care what food these gooks give me,” Colbert had said. “As long as they can fill my belly and get the flies to leave.”
“Amen to that,” Lenny had mumbled, giving a quick jerk of his head. They’d entered the restaurant, a type of hut made of wood slats. A fat portly gentleman of Indian decent had greeted them, bowing his head as they’d taken their seats. Respectable he may have been but an English speaker he was not. When Romstad had finally gotten through to the man that they were interested in eating they’d all already been seated and thumping their hands in irritation against the table top. The chair beneath Bob had squealed in protest all the while but held its meat and kept from giving way.
Looking at the menu, the men had slapped them down on the table hard. “Can’t read half the shit on this menu,” Colbert had said. “Fucking Thai food.”
“I can,” Specs had said, adjusting his glasses. “Just needs a bit of practice and sophistication. If you have any.”
“Say what?” Colbert had leapt from the table, knocking his chair down, ready to strike his team mate when Romstad had ordered him to sit down.
“Stop acting like a whiny ass bitch, Colbert. Geez,” he’d said. “No wonder Specs gets you riled so easy.”
“I don’t know about Specs, boss,” Lenny had said, looking away from them. “But that gook can sure rile me some. If you know what I mean?”
“Gook?” the others had said, looking towards the direction Lenny had looked. A smile had crossed Romstad’s face then. A different hunger had been remembered. One that made his member hard, pushing against his trousers in anticipation.
The woman that had walked towards them had been stunning. Wrapped in a blue sarong with yellow flowers crisscrossing it, her pale golden skin had gleamed in the noon day sun. Her black hair had been tied back in a tail, her brown eyes shining happily, a small white flower stuck behind her ear.
Romstad had licked his lips, his member pushing against his pants, twitching with precum already. He’d forgotten his “other” hunger as it had been several weeks since they’d had a gook to mash up and fuck. The killing had taken over. That and surviving. Not everyone had made it. Mitch and Mike were pushing up daisies already and Trent who was in the make shift hospital didn’t sound like he’d make it. But at this time he’d smiled and laughed. His troubles and fears temporarily forgotten. “Well boys, guess lunch came early today!” The men had laughed, knowing full well he didn’t mean the food.

“And what?” Kari says, looking towards him, gritting her teeth. Why are they telling her this? What is their real game here?
“Did you take her and molest her like you did the other girls?”
The senator leans down towards her, gripping her scalp and kisses her roughly, forcing his tongue between her lips to the back of her throat. Kari resist, feeling the bile surge up again in her mouth, but Romstad pushes his mouth forward, his tongue going deep into her. She taste fresh and new, and it coaxes him further. It last only a few seconds but it feels like an eternity to Kari as Romstad plays with her mouth and finally draws away with a bit of spit connecting their lips still, he smiling down at her.
“No bitch,” he says. “Why not be quiet and let me go on with the story?”
He slaps her across the cheek, the crack sounding loudly in the hollows of the room. She bites back her tears, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, drawing blood. Her cheek burns, but there isn’t much she can do in this position. She’ll just have to wait and bide her time.