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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Pity Is A Disease
by Hans Schultz (hans_schultz_2005@yahoo.com)
***
Army captain and his comrades loot and rape the poor
country they have invaded. (M+/Ff+, ped, nc, rp, v,
tor, sn, military)
***
Make love, not war.
I wouldn't put it that way. The hippies were wrong. Why
can't one do both?
I have been through many things during my exciting
life, and I have seen everything. So let me tell you a
story about how I came to the conclusion that it's much
more entertaining to make love AND war.
PITY IS A DISEASE
Being a soldier is not really a bad thing after all.
Here I will publish my notes that I wrote down in the
sweet 60's when we attacked the south, the land of the
niggers. It came to them as a complete surprise. Our
armament was modern, much more modern compared to
theirs. The natives didn't have much chances to defend
themselves against us.
1965-05-06
THE ARRIVAL
Forenoon. The small town has just woken up and its
inhabitants are going through their daily routines.
Most of the men are still somewhere trying to fight and
the women are trying to do the best they can to keep
their society up and standing.
It's exactly 8 AM when about 80 land-trucks cross the
border of the town and head towards the centre. The
trucks, which are packed with white men in their grey
uniforms scatter around the town. Everyone of us is
armed with a rifle, and as soon as we are reaching the
town district we begin a ruthless firing. We are
shooting everything that moves.
The bullets are hitting the walls and finding their
ways through the windows. In a moment the streets are
filled with dead bodies. The drivers are driving full
speed on the narrow alleys between the houses. They are
not giving way to anyone. The niggers don't have enough
space to step aside and they are crushed under the
heavy wheels as the drivers run over them. Most of them
die immediately, but some of them stay alive and
suffering on the streets. We are just laughing on the
trucks and go on firing.
As a matter of fact I like this. I am the commanding
officer of my platoon so I give an order to leave the
wounded alive and in their pain. No-one is resisting.
This is a dream come true for many of us, and I am by
no means the only one who is secretly fondling a hard
cock inside the frieze trousers.
We get down and go on as infantrymen. After we have
split in groups we start walking around the town
searching the houses and arresting every single person
we can find. Then we drag them to the market square at
the very centre of the town, where a big, wooden
building (probably a church or a school) is located.
People are panicking. They are unarmed, so they can't
defend themselves against the strong soldiers, who are
kicking and pushing them forward on the streets. The
children, who are not able to walk are torn away from
their mothers and killed in front of their eyes.
As soon as all of the inhabitants have been gathered to
the market square, they are driven into the wooden
building.
The disorder is almost complete. A constant scream of
terror is carried to my ears from every part of the
town. The soldiers are shouting their commands and
hitting people with their rifle-butts to make them move
faster. Of course that kind of behaviour is of a nature
to just increase the chaos.
I see how a pregnant women falls in the crowd and I
tell her to get up. I start kicking her stomach with my
heavy army boot to stress my words. The desperate woman
screams for someone to help her and tries to cover her
yet unborn baby with her hands. I go on kicking her
until blood starts to come out of her mouth. Then I
just walk away and leave her lying on the ground.
The doors are locked up and the soldiers wet the walls
of the building with gasoline. As soon as it's done we
are opening fire and the building flutters to flames.
The people inside are screaming and banging the locked
up doors in panic. They are breaking the windows and
trying to jump out, but we shoot them before they can.
The fire just moves more quickly into the building
through the broken windows.
The woman I was just kicking is still moaning on the
ground as the fire grabs her clothes and her hair. Some
men are standing a couple of metres from her, smoking,
and they cannot hide their amusement while they are
watching as the woman starts to scream in pain.
One of them is taking a photo of her.
Inside the building the screams are now mixed with
coughing and rattle. Then, one by one, all human sounds
fade away and there is only the sound of burning wood
left.
Our task has been fulfilled and we can leave.
We spread around the town, plunder the houses and set
them on fire.
During this same day, about 40 operations like this are
put to action in the country.
Our victory is clear as the African sky.
1965-05-21
THE NEW ORDER
After the power has changed hands, the life of the
locals hasn't been the same anymore.
We have subjected them to our rule and we are ruling
with an iron fist. Soldiers are everywhere and the
civilians are doing their best to avoid us.
At the first days of the occupation they hadn't still
realized this. In spite of the wild rumours that had
been told of our ways, people still couldn't believe
that we could practice such cruelty among them.
We have cancelled the human rights of the niggers and
not a single one of us has dared to question the new
methods in public. There's no need to. Our living
conditions are very comfortable since we have all the
power.
I'm not surprised at all of the fact that the great
powers of world have stayed silent and wanted to keep
up the good economical and military relationships with
us instead.
So our leaders may feel free to let their men go on
terrorizing the civilians.
It's not rare at all to see soldiers breaking into
people's homes in the middle of the day, killing the
men, raping the women and the children and cleaning the
houses of everything, even a bit valuable.
This practice has automatically lead to a situation in
which the civilians are getting always poorer and are
living at the edge of hunger when, at the same time,
even every common soldier is getting always richer and
surrounded with property.
Torture is very common. Corruption is more like a rule
than an exception.
Very many of our soldiers are forcing young local girls
to become their personal slaves, who they will abuse as
long as they will get bored. Then they'll just kill the
old ones and get fresh girls to entertain them.
We are destroying in frenzy. Just to satisfy our own
personal needs we violate and murder people on the
streets. Most of the houses of the public sector, like
hospitals and kindergartens are in ruins and I suppose
there aren't very many unbroken glass windows left in
the city.
Nothing really is sacred. And the greatest thing is
that no-one will probably ever questioned our actions,
because we are the winners. The civilized countries
won't care about the crush of these sub-humans.
The suffering of one is the pleasure of another.
The base of me and my unit is now at the capital city,
which is fortunate indeed.
Because the official military operations have ceased,
we don't have much work to do.
Or at least not much unpleasant work, and there's a big
city to explore and exploit.
I'm feeling like a young boy again.
1965-06-07
STREET LIFE
I'm off duty, but I'm still frustrated and I decide to
get drunk. I set my aim to a nearby public house, in
which I use to go. It's a quite shady night and I can
feel the forthcoming rain in my bones.
An old local with a garbage man's badge on his sleeve
walks towards me on the street. He salutes me according
to the regulations and stops waiting for me to pass
him. I ask for his ID.
A detestable situation. I shouldn't have stopped. I
just want to have a cold beer under my nose and I
really am not interested in seeing any goddamn papers.
I guess this is just one of these officer's reflexes. I
feel like an idiot standing there in front of him. His
face is irritating me and I would like to push my
thumbs into his nervous eyes. But instead of doing it,
I just spit on his face and go on walking as soon as he
has gotten his pile of ID's and permissions out of his
pocket.
He stays there holding them in his shaky hand.
A couple of blocks away from there I see a drunken
group of soldiers on their evening furlough. They're
having fun with a young nigger boy. Not my men.
The little boy, about 10-15 years of age is bleeding in
front of them and tries to get up. The soldiers are
laughing their drunken laughter and giving him
occasional blows with their night-sticks. The boy holds
a loaf of bread in his hands, and one of the men takes
it a way from him. Then the soldier throws the bread to
the ground and stomps it with his boot until it's all
mashed.
"Aren't you hungry? Come here and have a snack,
nigger!" I hear him shouting, which is followed by a
loud laughter of the soldiers.
Suddenly the boy rushes up and starts running, but in
his excitement he hasn't noticed me and runs directly
to my embrace.
For a second we both are a bit dumbfounded, but then I
notice that he's bleeding on my clean uniform and I
push him down in disgust.
"Fucking bastard!" I shout and kick his ass.
The soldiers have noticed my captain's badges and stand
at attention.
"Report yourself," I snarl and try to wipe the blood
away from my clothes.
"Yes sir! Corporal Lauri Heikkinen from the 13th
infantry company reports ! A group of evening
furloughers from the same company returning to the
garrison as ordered, sir!"
"Stand at ease," I reply and go on, "Before you do,
take care that this pile of shit here won't ever be
able to come and ruin my uniform for a second time. I
want to hear the report tomorrow before 11 AM. Captain
Ruohonen, the fourth military police unit. Got it?"
"Yes sir!" he shouts and tells his friends to pick up
the nigger boy.
"Dismissed," I snap out and walk away.
I walk away even though I would like to turn back and
get me a clean uniform, but I don't bother, because I'm
not on duty.
And what the hell? It's not the first time I've walked
around in bloody clothes.
I turn right at the next corner and see a military
police patrol working on a woman and a child.
It seems to be a busy night, indeed.
The woman is about 30 years old and the child is almost
a newborn one.
Other one of the policemen, a man in his fifties and an
officer, is tearing the woman's blouse to shreds and
her tits are hanging free for all to see. Another,
younger one, is holding her still as the first
mentioned takes out his cock. The woman holds her
screaming infant in her arms and it's difficult to
really say which one of the niggers is screaming
louder, the woman or her brat.
Then she notices me and starts to pray for mercy.
The policemen notice me too and the younger one loosens
his hold of the woman. The older one is busy stuffing
his cock back into his pants, ashamed.
I walk to the woman and lift the baby away from her
arms. The policemen are silent, they're just staring me
while the woman cries and moans.
"Dear captain...sir...don't let them hurt my
baby...please. I'm begging you, sir," she sobs
I look her in the eyes, then at the roaring offspring
I'm holding. How is it even possible to have such a
loud noise coming out of such a tiny mouth?
Its screaming pauses only when the brat has to inhale,
or when it's about to drown in its own spit.
I lift the baby over my head and use my full strength
to hurl it down to the asphalt.
"Noooooo!" its mother yells and tries to get to her
child.
"Don't let me disturb what you were doing, gentlemen,"
I tell to the policemen.
The child doesn't die. It stays rattling on the ground
and blood starts to flow out of its mouth.
The policemen attack the woman with a hysterical
laughter and tear her skirt away. They are beating her
with their sticks until she's lying on the ground and
holding her hands in front of her face. The older
policeman takes his cock out again and penetrates the
woman's cunt. The younger one is brave and removes all
of his clothing. Then he straddles the woman and begins
a furious fucking between her tits. He milks her tits
so violently that large streams of mother's milk are
splashing on his hairy chest and running down his
stomach.
This sight is turning me on. I take a couple of steps
back and masturbate while watching the rape. The passer
bys turn back on their heels. Nobody wants to get
involved. Which is wisely thought.
I take out my pistol and look up. I see dark faces at
the windows of the surrounding houses.
The curtains are opening a little here and there. I
took a good aim and shoot a couple of the too curious
ones while wanking my cock with my other hand.
The policemen are shooting their loads, roaring in
pleasure.
Inside her and on her face the slime goes. I'm telling
them to step aside and to force her on her knees in
front of me.
Her child goes finally silent.
The men are pulling her hands away from covering her
face and I can see the woman's desperate eyes. She sees
her child, bled to death, then she sees me masturbating
in front of her, and finally shooting thick wads of my
sperm right on her face and eyes.
I use her hair to clean my cock and place it back in my
pants.
The policemen are from my unit. My men. Good men.
I ask them to come and have a couple of beers with me.
They seem to be honored.
We move on.
1965-06-08
THE REPORT
Corporal Heikkinen reported himself at 10.30 AM today.
They had took the young nigger to his home, tied up his
parents and shot a couple of wounding shots to his
body. Then they had left the building, leaving him
there, unable to help himself.
He assured me that the boy will be crippled for life.
I'm satisfied.
I will give my recommendation to get the corporal
promoted.
1965-07-15
THE HOSPITAL
We are taking possession of a hospital. One of the few
ones that are left.
About 50 men have been ordered to accomplish this task.
The building is moderately big and it has about 200
patients plus the staff, we were told.
That's all.
We do need labourers, but we don't need the ill. That's
why they need to be eliminated.
We are marching in and splitting in groups. The staff
of the lobby tries to escape in horror, but just a
couple of sharp machine gun runs are enough to harvest
them.
I and my platoon move on to the wards. We are opening a
door after another and aim our guns to the helpless
patients tied in their beds. Not a single soul is
saved.
The ones who are able to walk are trying to save
themselves and escape. Some of them try to climb out of
the windows, but the bullets have no mercy.
Some crippled niggers are sitting in their wheelchairs
at the corridor. My men have lots of fun by pushing
them down the stairs and laughing at their cries, as
they fall and hurt themselves even worse. Many of them
are left there without any release from their agony,
and crying and lament are filling the hospital. The
soldiers are yelling and laughing in their animal
frenzy.
Butchering and torturing the helpless is what we know
best and it's what we like to do.
We have come just during the lunchtime. There, in a big
dining hall are sitting tens of patients having their
small lunch. We jump on the long tables and start
delivering heavy kicks around us.
The plates are crashing under our boots and the food is
making the table very slippery.
Teeth are kicked in. Noses bleed.
We tell people to open their mouths and as they do so,
we push the barrels of our guns into them.
"Bon appetite," I laugh as I pull the trigger.
Blood and slices of brain are mixing on the floor with
the food and shattered glass.
Then the maternity ward.
Fresh mothers have rushed in panic to their newborns
and as we come in they are trying to cover and hide
them from us.
I'm giving an order to deprive the babies from their
mothers and to throw them all into a big hospital bed.
The babies are screaming their lungs out. They can't
understand what's happening.
The mothers are herded into a corner and three soldiers
aim them with their machine guns, ready to shoot. The
women are begging for mercy, but that's the last thing
they're gonna get from us.
I don't want to have the babies shot. I want them to
suffer. It's exciting and it makes my cock big and hard
in my pants. I hate these brats, and there ain't a
destiny that would be too hard for them.
I've got the power and I will use it.
I'm taking personally care of the murdering of the
babies by pouring some gasoline to the bed and setting
it on fire. In a second the whole pile of baby meat is
in flames.
I enjoy as I hear the screams of pain. I've learned to
enjoy it. The smell of burning flesh is in the air.
Some of my men have grabbed young mothers for
themselves and now they are raping them on the floor. I
take my already hard cock out and fondle it while
watching this senseless play of violence and mayhem.
My men in uniform are showing their strength.
They are beating the crying women. They're satisfying
their animal lust in mothers whose babies are just
burning to death in front of their eyes.
There's nothing they can do about it. Absolutely
nothing.
There are not enough women for all of us. But
fortunately women in general feature lots of
possibilities, so even four soldiers can concentrate in
raping one bitch. They beat them with fists and rifle-
butts and laugh, as they usually do. Some of the men
force the mothers to watch their burning babies while
they at the same time make them wank their slimy cocks.
And as they want to cum, they are usually doing it on
the crying faces of the desperate women. I'm proud of
my men.
Many of the cunts go insane. They can't stand cruelty
at this stage.
I'm shooting some of them at random.
In the next room there is a woman who's still in the
middle of her labour. The nurses have escaped and the
woman is trying to push the baby out of her cunt by
herself, but she doesn't have the strength. The brat is
just coming in the halfway.
The woman is in incredible pain and she's screaming
like a pig in a slaughter-house.
She doesn't even notice me as I step in, walk to her
and grab the foetus.
With a one forceful yank I manage to tear it away from
its mother's cunt which is now free for me to enter. I
drop the baby on the floor and climb on the woman, who
is finally paying some attention to me. I see that her
eyes are looking for his newborn baby, so I take out my
pistol, push it into her mouth and tell the whore to
keep her mind on more important matters.
As I'm penetrating her cunt, I notice, to my amusement,
that the navel-string is still connecting her and her
baby, but I don't care. As a matter of fact, it's
feeling very good against my shaft as I move my manhood
in and out of her loose cunt.
As I'm doing this, I'm also making some lewd fucking
gestures with my pistol in her mouth. I smile as I can
see some fresh tears appearing in the whore's eyes and
starting to roll down her cheeks.
I can feel my cum rising in my balls. She's quiet and
stares directly into my eyes. Crying.
I'm panting on her face and licking my lips.
Then I feel the first wave of my orgasm coming and just
as a moan of pleasure escapes from my lips I pull the
trigger of my gun and see how her head explodes in
front of my eyes.
The enjoyment I get out of this is something
extraordinary. I'm roaring out my victory and wallowing
in my obscene lust...and finally in that extreme
satisfaction, which is possible to achieve only by
these means.
The woman dies instantly. Her baby is still alive as I
walk out of the room, but it will inevitably die soon
too.
I'm just happy to let it suffer a bit longer.
A total chaos is the prevalent situation in the
hospital. Dead bodies are everywhere.
The soldiers are robbing the offices and raping the
last women still alive. In a mindless fury they are
destroying everything that is coming into their view.
They are pissing and shitting on the corridors, even on
the patients that are breathing their last breathes.
Soon they too are as dead as most of the other niggers
here.
My perverted mind is bathing in joy.
1965-06-29
A RAID
We're going through the buildings of this district one
by one.
The adjoining blocks have already been emptied and
people have been transferred to the execution place.
The same thing will happen here now.
The other side of the street is already in the hands of
turmoil. People are running around and the soldiers are
beating them with clubs to make them form lines.
Women are crying and looking for their husbands.
Children are looking for their parents. Without any
results of course. If they do find their families, they
will be separated by force.
Most of the people are going to get executed, but the
strongest ones will be put to work.
Also the most beautiful women will be forced to work as
prostitutes at the whorehouses for the soldiers.
We're getting into a staircase now. The stomping sound
of our boots echoes from the hard concrete walls. I run
to the top floor and hear how my men kick the doors
open behind my back.
As a commanding officer I shouldn't really be doing
this. But I like the excitement...I like the smell of
fear. And no-one can stop me from going to the
battlefield if I want to.
I throw a kick to the door and it flies open.
For a moment I'm standing at the doorway looking
around. No-one.
The fuckers are playing hide and seek.
"Come out with your hands raised!" I shout, but there's
no response.
Holy fuck!
Why does it always have to be the hard way. This could
be done so much easier.
The end will be the same in any case.
Well...never mind, at least I will now have time to
look around whether here would be something valuable to
steal.
I walk in to the small apartment and start from the
kitchen. I yank the closets open, but there are just
dishes and other shit like that. I throw them to the
floor.
Then a bigger closet with some cleaning equipment as
its contents. And the first discovery.
A young man is hiding under the rags. And he's armed,
goddamnit.
Rapidly he attacks me. He's squeezing a metal pipe in
his hand and he raises it to a blow.
Just in time I move aside as the pipe hits a table and
splits it in two parts.
No time for thinking now.
I draw out my pistol and shoot towards him but the
bullet just hits his shoulder. I didn't have the time
to aim properly.
I may not get nervous now.
Suddenly I rush forward, grab the man from his chest
and throw him against the window.
The glass goes to pieces and the man falls screaming
down from the fourth floor, straight into the crowd
that's thronging on the pavement.
I just hope I didn't hit my comrades.
I hear some loud yelling and swearing from the
staircase.
I walk out of the kitchen and see how sergeant Makela
is killing all the five inhabitants of the next
apartment with a single machine gun run. He's laughing,
lighting up a cigarette and walking back in looking for
the valuables.
"Show yourselves, fucking niggers!" I shout again.
The living room.
I grab the pieces of furniture and throw them upside
down. I take out my knife and rip open the sofa and the
mattress looking for some hidden treasures, but I find
just some old photographs which I rip to pieces.
Fuck!
An infuriating situation. I lose my temper totally and
take my aggression out on everything I see.
I tear down the curtains and the lamps. I throw some
furniture out of the window.
Then I'm able to find some hidden jewellery and I stuff
them into the pockets of my uniform.
I go to the bedroom and open a large closet which
contains some clothes and children's toys all in a big
pile on the floor.
Well, at last something. This is suspicious.
I throw the stuff out of the closet and see that my
suspicions were correct.
The closet features a partition made of cardboard. And
it's made so poorly that it wouldn't even cheat a
child.
I pull the partition open, look behind it and see three
pairs of frightened eyes staring back at me.
All of them belong to women. Probably a grandmother,
her daughter and her granddaughter.
They are so afraid that they are shaking.
At that very moment sergeant Makela appears to the
doorway.
"Do you find anything?" he calls out to me.
"Makela, you came right in time. Would you like to have
some fun?" I call out back to him.
The question is completely unfounded.
The bitches have curled up and hugging each other. They
look at us but then quickly turn their heads away.
Sergeant Makela walks to me and speaks out:
"Well, I'll be damned...hidden flesh. And a little
nigger child on top of that. Come here kid!"
He's making a motion with his hand, which is supposed
to make the youngest hider come to him.
Sergeant Makela is a complete idiot, but he's a good
soldier. One of my best men.
He's violent and stupid. Always hungry for money, blood
and pussy. He'll never get enough.
"What's the matter? Can't you just hear me, or aren't
my words effective enough? Come on you piece of shit,
get out of the fucking closet right now!" he shouts and
begins to lose his temper.
He grabs the sleeve of the youngest slut and pulls her
away from her mother's embrace.
Then he lifts the girl's face in front of his own and
lets out a long shout.
Sergeant Makela is a prick.
He smiles and throws the kid to the wall behind his
back. Then he kicks her ribs as she falls down on the
floor. He picks up his rifle, aims and shoots an exact
shot right in the middle of the face of the kid's
mother. Then he finishes the kid's life.
Makela has gained his credits as a sharpshooter and
he's one of the best shooters in my unit.
The woman dies immediately leaving just bloody stains
on the wall behind her.
The only one who's left now is the grandmother, who has
raised her hands to prayer and murmurs some words in
her native tongue. Sergeant Makela grabs her hand and
drags her to the middle of the floor. I light up a
cigarette and offer him a sip out of my vodka bottle.
"Come on Makela...don't kill yourself. Relax for a
while."
He takes a long gulp and burps on the top of it.
"Ok captain...and now we shall fuck this old cunt,
don't you agree," he says to me.
I take a sip of the vodka and smile.
"If you're able to get a hard on with that mummy, I
promise to offer you a night at the Jokinen's place," I
chuckle and point the old woman on the floor.
"You got yourself a deal, captain!" he shouts and
begins to unbutton his pants.
The old woman has no teeth and she's continuously
speaking out her incomprehensibilities, so it's a piece
of cake for sergeant Makela to stick his cock inside
her mouth.
She is crying now and trying to push him away from her,
but Makela just takes a strong grip of her thin hair
and begins a very violent penetrating of her face.
I can feel how my own cock is getting hard in my pants,
so I'm urging him on with his action.
And yes, I should have guessed, that in less than a
minute he has succeeded in getting himself a raging
hard-on.
I am very excited and I start to rip the old woman's
clothes with my combat knife.
Makela is standing over her feet, drinking more of my
vodka and his cock is standing at attention, dripping
pre-cum. He's waiting for me to get the bitch naked.
Her tits are sacky and every single strand of her pubic
hair is grey.
An ugly bitch.
But that doesn't seem to bother sergeant Makela,
because he just falls down on the her and forces his
cock inside her dry hole. The old woman lets out a
hoarse scream and Makela hits her face a couple of
times with his fist, smashing her nose. Blood starts to
flow.
I step back and watch as the brutal soldier is beating
up and raping this old woman in front of my eyes. His
grey uniform is dirty and covered in blood stains. His
ass is moving up and down over her and with each thrust
he's letting out a groan of pleasure.
The woman looks like she's about to faint.
Suddenly I hear a shout coming from the door.
"Grandmother!"
I turn around and see a nigger girl in her twenties
looking at us with a horrified expression on her face.
Makela doesn't seem to pay any attention to her.
"Nooo! You murderers! Monsters!" she screams and runs
to sergeant Makela. Then she starts to pull him away
from the top of her grandmother.
In a second I'm beside her and kick her ass away from
bothering him. My boot hits her stomach and she falls
down with a muffled scream. But she gets quickly back
on her feet.
A stupid whore with spirit.
"How can you do that to an old woman? Don't you have
any feelings? I hate you ! I hate you ! You have
destroyed everything I've got!"
The bitch sobs and cries and starts rushing towards me
with her fists raised.
"Well...that's no problem, if she insists," I think and
take a strangling grip of her.
Then I push her down on the floor, under me.
"Let me go ! Don't touch me ! I hate you!" she goes on
yelling as remove my grip.
The woman is weak and she can't give me any trouble. It
takes just a moment to undress her, even though she's
struggling like a madman. The cloth is thin and the
sound of it ripping is turning me on.
Now she lying exposed on the floor.
She's trying to scratch my eyes with her fingernails,
so I'm forced to pin her hands down. Then I start
beating her fingers with the butt of my pistol. The
bones are cracking and the pig is screaming so loud
that I have to stop breaking her fingers and to push my
hand over her mouth.
I can't stand her screaming in my ear.
Sergeant Makela is panting by my side. He has just shot
his load inside the old woman's cunt and lies now on
top of her, exhausted, smothering her with his weight.
"I'm not for fuck's worth interested in your lowlife
nigger history!" I shout at the girl that's fighting
under me. "You are the disease, and our duty is to be
the cure ! Do you understand me, whore?"
I push my cock into her with force and feel how it's
crushing the hymen on its way to the bottom.
Leaning my hands against the floor, I begin a fast and
violent fucking inside her tight and unused cunt.
"No! Let me go! Get off me!"
I answer by increasing the speed. My pelvis is smacking
against her mound with such power that it'll probably
bruise her skin. Her blood is working as a lubricant
and soon I can feel that my orgasm is on its way.
"Fucking nigger whore ! I despise you ! You're nothing
but a pile of shit!" I snarl into her ear at the same
time as I erupt inside her. "Let's hope you'll get
pregnant, bitch!"
The woman is crying. I spit on her face.
Then I get up and button my pants.
Sergeant Makela has sat down on something that used to
be a piece of furniture and is now watching my bustling
with amusement on his face. He's smoking a cigarette
and drinking.
"May I remind the captain that he's owing me
something," he's chaffing.
"Pick up that whore and hold her still. I'm gonna show
that shit a piece of proper nigger treatment," I say
and point at the woman crying on the floor.
"Anything you say, sir!" he shouts and salutes me extra
carefully. Mocking.
Then he laughs and picks up the woman.
"Take care that she's keeping her eyes open"
Makela forces her to open her eyes by lifting her
eyelids with his thumbs.
I go to the old woman who's nearly unconscious by now.
Then I throw a sharp kick to her ribs.
She gets back her consciousness in a second and lets
out a yelp.
I give her another kick, then a third.
I can hear her fragile rib bones snapping.
"Please stop. Have mercy. She's just an old woman," the
younger woman pleads quietly.
Makela lets out a cruel laugh.
"Madame tight ass will now be a good girl and watch.
It's captain's order," he snarls into her ear.
I am furious. I want to cause pain and that's what I'll
do.
I'm walking around the grandmother and kick her body
all over with my heavy boots.
"Fucking sub-humans! You are up to no good! You all
should be killed ! And you will!" I shout as adrenaline
is rushing into my brains.
Then I move on to kick her head. Then I step on her
face and crush her facial bones by putting all my
weight on her. She's unconscious again. Her
granddaughter is desperate.
"Stop, you monster! I hope you will die in the fire
stone lake of Hell!" she screams and bursts into the
final tears.
The resistance has been broken.
The floor is stained blood red. So are my boots and my
uniform.
I kick and jump on the woman as hard as I can and I
don't stop before I cannot find anymore solid bones to
break.
The youngster tries to look away, but Makela forces her
to witness the event.
Once again I take my cock out. It is limp now, but it
doesn't matter.
I walk to the unconscious woman and let a stream of
piss flow down on the remnants of her bloody face.
Sergeant Makela is thinking that this is funny and he's
merrily describing to the girl how fun this actually
is.
He tells her that this is to be her grandmother's
extreme unction.
"Alright then. Let's take this whore down to the
others," I say as I shake the last drops of piss from
my cock and put it back to my pants.
Makela pushes her down on her knees, then presses the
barrel of his gun against her neck, and tells her to
start crawling to the door. She's sobbing but still
doing as she's told.
Then Makela starts pushing her down the stairs and goes
on until we're at the street level.
"Go down, bitch!" he commands.
I walk behind them, satisfied in myself.
The woman is completely broken. She's burying her face
in her hands.
On the street our colleagues notice that we are
bringing a naked woman with us.
"Was she good?," one of them asks laughing.
We answer his question with the wide grins on our
faces.
A NIGHT IN A BROTHEL
Later at night I'm walking to a bar with sergeant
Makela.
Or, to be precise, it's a bar and a brothel in one.
I'm paying my debt to Makela. He insisted that it must
be done today.
The place is ran by lieutenant Jokinen, who used to be
located at our unit. He's a civilian now, because he
had some luck and he got wounded in a battle. Not very
seriously, but it was enough to earn him a one way
ticket out of the army. However, he decided to stay
here with us and run a business.
The place is full of soldiers, as usual. They are
making a lot of noise by fighting with each other and
harassing the whores. As soon as we step inside,
Jokinen recognizes us and comes to greet us in his
expensive suit.
"What's up old bastards? You came to spend your little
money on some entertainment, am I right? Would you like
to have a piece of black pussycat for the beginning?"
"Shut your mouth, Jokinen and fix us drinks. This time
I have a sponsor with me, so I can spend as much money
as I want in your sleazy hole," Makela snaps out,
according to his habits and is pointing at me as he's
saying the word "sponsor".
Jokinen goes on undisturbed and as glad as before.
"Uh-huh! I don't think that's a correct way to speak to
a higher officer, is it Makela? All I'm asking for are
some manners, please. This is a place of the higher
society, if I may make a remark," he says.
We are sitting down at the bar and start to drink some
Scotch whiskey. This is the only place where it's even
possible to get that stuff. And of course Jokinen has
priced it according to it.
Whores are coming to sit next to us, but we shoo them
away, consistent of our purpose.
I admit that Jokinen has the most beautiful hookers in
town. They are in good meat, unlike most of the other
local girls. He has even white meat for sale, which no-
one else has, but today we have something else in our
minds. We need some encouragement.
The raid earlier today has left us in an unfinished
state of mind, somehow.
Jokinen really has everything from the newborns to old
women with their other foot already in a grave. He's
even got options for the ones who prefer having sex
with boys instead of women.
The local women are almost desperately trying to get to
work here.
The work is risky, and they don't get paid, of course,
but Jokinen is giving his employees lots of food and
good clothes, and that's a lot.
Jokinen is a hard boiled businessman, and for money he
is selling anything.
Most of his time he is sitting behind his desk and
smoking his fat cigars. He thinks that smoking cigars
makes him a fine man. From time to time he walks to the
door to welcome his friends and the higher officers.
My captain's badges are noticed here too with respect
so we may sit and drink alone without any bothering
drunkards around us. The reputation of Makela may also
have something to do with the fact. Everybody knows him
as an anxious street fighter who hits hard.
The whores are coming to us because they must, even
though they know that we might offer them some
unpleasant surprises.
The officers and the non-commissioned officers are very
popular prey, because we have more money than the
privates, and sometimes some fool might even give some
private tip to his whore.
Jokinen comes to me, sits down and makes his opening
line.
"Well then, old fellow. You seem to be enjoying my
Scotch."
It's clear that he's worried because we still haven't
bought a woman from him.
"Now listen Jokinen. Would you happen to have a good,
disposable package for two tonight?," I ask and let him
out of his worries.
"Oh, you want to have a disposable one!" he grins,
"Well now... you men seem to have some unloaded stress
today, am I right?"
"Cut the crap, you goddamn pussy dealer and do your job
like you should," Makela lisps from behind my back,
clearly drunk now, and empties another glass of
whiskey.
"But of course I will. For you guys I'm always serving
the best," Jokinen says and clearly tries to ingratiate
us.
He gets up and returns in a moment with a gorgeous half
naked nigger woman beside him. She's wearing only black
panties and her firm tits are visible for all to see
and feel.
"This is Sandi. What do you say? She's a very good
girl. I've personally taken care of her training,"
Jokinen gives me a wink and goes on. "She's 25 years
old, but I really couldn't say so if I didn't know it's
true. Don't you agree?"
I must admit the man is speaking the words of truth.
The girl is just charming, once and for all. And she
can act just as shyly as she is expected to act.
A real cockteaser to put it straight.
I'm suspicious. Jokinen must be hiding something behind
his back.
Usually, when you are asking for a disposable whore,
you will get the most ugly eider of the house, who has
been fucked to the very limit.
But this one...she is a piece of very productive meat,
and Jokinen, if somebody, knows that.
He's confirming my suspicions when he turns to me and
says with a nervous tone:
"Also I happen to have some unloaded stress by chance,
so you will get her at half price, if you let me come
with you, let's say in a capacity of an observer or
so..."
"Jokinen! An old libertine! I should have guessed!" I
can't hold back my laughter.
"So, the deal is done then?," he says and sounds
suddenly very formal.
"Feel free to join us. We won't be bothered," I am able
to say between my laughing and turn my eyes to the
girl, who's standing behind us.
As soon as she notices me looking at her, she forces
her thick lips to an affected smile.
Makela commands her to fill his empty glass and pushes
his hand into her knickers. The girl lets out an
exclaim which is caused by surprise or pain, but still
she manages to pour the drink for Makela without
splashing it.
"Unbelievable. It's good to stay in good relations with
Jokinen," I think.
The whore is pure luxury. If she just knew what's in
store for her.
"Good. Room number seven is reserved for you. You seem
to have all the necessary equipment with you already,"
Jokinen says and hands me the keys, "Just go ahead, I
will be joining you in a minute or two."
Jokinen goes behind his desk and begins to give some
advice to his staff.
We stand up and take the girl between us. She's
giggling her fake laughter and laying her hands around
us. I see that mentioning the equipment has gotten her
a bit nervous, but she has no option.
Now she's irritating me.
We're stepping inside the room seven.
There we can see a big bed with posts, a table and an
armchair. Also there's a big mirror at the ceiling over
the bed. A very typical decoration of a brothel room,
so to say.
We're standing in the middle of the floor looking at
our merchandise : A short afro hair, black as the
Devil's ass. Not very tall, she's only to my shoulder
in length. Her white teeth are shining behind her dark
red lips and even the corny, whorish make - up isn't
able to hide her primitive beauty. There's not even an
inch of extra fat in her, but then again, she's not too
thin either. Her ass is curving out nicely below her
waist, and as she's removing her panties, we're able to
see her cunt, which is covered by thick, black and
really curly pubic hair.
Our merchandise is looking at us. To be honest, we
cannot really be described as attractive as she is.
Yes, we have shaved our faces, of course, but our grey
uniforms are needing a wash very badly. Cleaning away
the dried blood stains just isn't very simple task to
do at these conditions.
Makela has a strong scent of sweat and alcohol hovering
around him and our drunken, blue eyes are cold and
unfeeling. Our faces are a little red from all the
drinking and although our baggy trousers are still
erect, they haven't seen an iron for a too long time.
It's so easy to get a bit broad-minded here. The
garrison discipline is quite a different thing.
"Get on your knees!" Makela is commanding the girl.
Immediately she's doing as she's told and without any
request she's unbuttoning our pants and taking our
cocks in her hands. Then she starts exciting us with
her small fingers very professionally.
She's giving our cockheads small licks and then looking
up into our eyes.
"Oh, how big they are!" she's sighing, "You misters
have really handsome cocks, you are so kind soldiers,
making me wet like this."
She's telling us the same things she's probably been
telling to tens or even hundreds of soldiers before us.
"Shut up whore and suck," Makela is snarling to her and
gives her face a little taste of his fist.
Then he begins to whip her face with his cock and I'm
following his example.
Now we're both whipping her face with our cocks and I
can see that the whore is not enjoying the situation a
bit, even though she's moaning and rubbing our balls
with her tiny hands.
She's not a very good actor.
Every time we are hitting her eyes, she's groaning in
pain.
I grab her hair and say, "Open your mouth, whore!"
As soon as her mouth opens, I thrust my cock right to
the bottom. Makela is moving beside me and he pushes
his cock into her whore mouth too. We begin to be
cramped for room there.
The corners of the girl's mouth seem to be stretching
many inches as she's trying to swallow us both and it's
quite a funny sight indeed.
Yes, she is an experienced cocksucker, but still she
isn't able to hold back her reflexes as we both are
pushing our manhood deep into her throat.
Naturally she doesn't dare to fight us and soon we can
feel how her warm vomit is filling the mouth around our
cocks. It's spraying out of her nose too and then it's
making it's way down to the floor and on our boots.
I grab her hair once more and pull her head back.
"Look at what you've done, you pig!" I yell, "You
messed up our just polished boots with your slimy inner
organs ! You had better to go down too and clean our
boots with your tongue or you will be really sorry you
didn't!"
I slam her head towards the floor and lift my other
foot for her. So does sergeant Makela, even though his
boots are really far from just polished.
After the raid today they are covered with shit, dust
and blood. But our whore has no possibility to protest
and so she begins to lick our dirty footwear with a
disgusted expression on her face.
Right at that moment the door is opening and Jokinen is
stepping in.
He sees her whore down on her knees licking our feet
and us masturbating slowly while we are looking at her.
"Well...look at this! My great war heroes have already
started without me. Please don't let me disturb you,"
he laughs, sits in the armchair and throws an unopened
bottle to Makela, who can't believe what he's seeing.
"Holy Fuck! Brandy!" he's shouting delighted.
"Sandi, my girl. I want you to know that I've sold your
ass to these gentlemen here as a disposable one. I
expect you to be good to them. Please enjoy your last
fuck while you can," Jokinen goes on with a cruel smile
on his face.
Every hint of his recent kindness has suddenly
disappeared.
"Disposable! No...please!" she cries out and looks at
her master in horror.
I kick her face with the tip of my boot, because she
has dared to stop licking it.
Her head flies back, but Makela is on the other side of
her in a second, and then his boot is smashing towards
the left temple of the whore.
She crawls to Jokinen, who's still sitting in the
armchair
She starts begging for mercy. Her nose is bleeding.
Jokinen gets mad. He's kicking the whore's face one
more time and makes her stumble backwards.
"Don't you come whining to me, nigger! Go on and do
your job, because if you don't, I can guarantee that
you will stay alive. But that's an experience you don't
want to have!" he shouts.
Before she can get up on her feet, I'm by her side and
lift her up in the air from her armpits.
"Okay. There's the door. If you really think that you
want to leave, then be my guest and go ahead. But do it
quick," I tell her in my best commanding voice and put
her down in front of me.
She's still a bit confused from the kicks, and she
doesn't seem to realize what I'm saying to her. She's
takes a step back and then she gives questioning looks
to me and Jokinen who has stood up now.
Finally she looks at Makela, who's still fondling his
cock and chuckling at the situation.
"Well? You heard the captain. Get lost!" he blurts out.
Now she's coming to life again.
She turns around, runs to the door and turns the
handle. At the very same moment when I fire my pistol,
she's realizing that the door is locked.
The bullet hits her left knee, and she falls screaming
down on the floor.
Makela now draws his pistol and walks to her. He turns
her on her back with his foot and shoots her to her
other knee.
Jokinen sits back into his armchair and watches the
massacre.
The continuous scream of pain fills the room.
The whore can't decide which one of her knees she
should grab so she tries to move by pulling her body
forward with her hands. Then she tries to get up on her
feet, but her they don't carry her and she falls back
down.
We are watching this show with amusement.
Then we start to walk around her.
We are aiming our guns at different parts of her body.
Making her wait for the shot, but then we lower our
guns again and continue our besieging.
"The elbows," Makela says with a dry tone, and drinks a
gulp from the brandy bottle.
I take an aim at her left elbow and pull the trigger.
Makela is following my example, and bullets hit her
both elbows almost at the same time.
Makela hands me the brandy and I take a sip of it.
The whore is screaming and begging us to stop.
"Please, don't! It hurts! Please don't kill me, I
haven't done anything to you!" she cries.
She's pathetic. As I look at her tear stained face, I
think of our colleagues and their whores downstairs.
They must have heard the shots and all this screaming.
I can sense the tensed feeling even from another room.
"Bring her here, please," Jokinen asks.
Makela grabs the girl from her waist and lifts her to a
crawling position. Then he starts to drag her to the
front of the armchair. Her broken arms are moving
uncontrollably back and forth and her crushed knees
leave two stripes of blood on the floor behind her.
Jokinen grabs her chin, so that he's able to look into
her eyes. Then he takes out his gun and presses it
between her eyes.
"Shut up, nigger!" he shouts at her face as loud as he
can.
The whore's screaming is slowly turning to constant
moans and muffled waves of pain.
I'm sure she's still thinking she might get out of this
alive somehow.
Jokela stays silent and looks directly into her eyes
for at least 30 seconds.
"Tell me...what are you supposed to say now, Sandi?" he
finally asks her with a sharp voice.
The girl is just sobbing. Then she lets her head fall
down.
After a short while we can hear her speaking through
her tears.
"I'm sorry, sir...please forgive me..."
Jokinen looks at us and gives us a victorious smile.
"Good girl," he says to the whore and lifts her head
back up.
He draws a long puff of smoke from his cigar and then
looks at its glowing edge.
"You deserve to have a reward for that, Sandi," he says
and makes her have a taste of his cigar too.
As the girl draws the smoke into her lungs, she begins
coughing. Jokinen uses this opportunity.
He turns his cigar around, opens the girl's eyelids
with his fingers and then begins slowly entering the
glowing edge of the cigar into the whore's right eye.
With a sharp, hissing sound, her eye melts in the
incredible heat.
The girl screams, then loses her consciousness and goes
limp.
Jokinen has taken out his cock and now he forces it
into her mouth.
Or maybe forcing is not a correct word. The bitch is
out of control and Jokinen has to press her mouth shut
with his hand.
He starts to masturbate with the girl's head, moving it
up and down on his hard cock.
It's looking very easy, because the unconscious cum-
dumpster is completely relaxed and her mouth is
existing only for this purpose right now.
But then again, she isn't able to suck or lick, and
that'd be a bit boring to my tastes. And that seems to
be the case with Jokinen too. After a short while he
pushes the girl away in disgust.
I pick up the smelling salts from the table. Standard
equipment of the room.
As she comes to her senses, she immediately goes on
with her screaming.
Makela and I are still fondling our cocks as we walk to
her and push the barrels of our guns against her
forehead.
Then I give a sign and we both pull our triggers.
And as we see her die in front of us, we both shoot our
loads too.
Our semen hits her face and gets mixed with her blood.
Then, as soon as we've recovered, we notice that
Jokinen is cleaning his suit which is stained with his
semen. He's handling us two towels.
"Can you believe...that whore really had the courage to
ask me for some money for her services. Unbelievable. I
just don't know who she thought she were," he says to
us and we nod our heads in agreement.
We step out of the room and leave the whore there for a
cleaning woman, who will throw her body to the trash.
As we walk down the stairs, we are welcomed with loud
applause and a roomful of curious men.
We don't have to buy a single drink for us during the
whole night, because the men want to hear every detail
of our encounter, and they're naturally offering us
drinks for that.
The whores don't seem to like our stories at all, and
the most popular entertainment of the night is to
describe the slaughter of their comrade to them...and
watch as they try to fight back their tears and look
amused.
Well, anyway...the night has been a success. And I
didn't have to spend all my money to pay my debt to
sergeant Makela. He's constantly saying that I have
cheated him.
"Listen now Makela. That's the reason why I am a
captain and you're just a sergeant," I tell him, as he
mopes and throws some murderous looks at my direction.
1965-09-02
THE HUNGER
Most of the fields have been mined and it's almost
impossible to harvest the crop.
The people are starving and the soldiers are stealing
the last food they have left.
We do have lots of food, but some of us think it's fun
to take away the poor people's last chance for life. We
are going even so far that we burn the cowsheds and
pigstys.
It's hard to eat the burned animal bodies.
Sometimes we do save the animals for our own use, but
that's just sometimes.
The international Red Cross – organization has finally
realized the situation and is sending here massive
contributions, which is good, of course. Because of
their food supplies, our need to freight the food we
need is much smaller. That saves money. Usually a
single contribution from the Red Cross is enough to
feed our unit for a week.
It's quite usual to see children and old people, that
have starved to death, lying on the streets of the
city. It's unhygienic, because the warm temperature is
making the rotting process very quick.
There are flies everywhere.
That's why we have gathered some local men to work as a
body-squad and they are cleaning the streets during the
night time. There's a big mass grave just outside the
city district. The dead are taken there and then
burned. The fire has to be fed all the time, so large
loggings of the forests are necessary.
On my personal looting expeditions, I use to search for
all the food from the houses. Then I will eat it there
or destroy it by burning or simply stealing. If a
family is just having their meal as I get in, I usually
just empty their plates on the floor. Sometimes I have
had a shit on their plates and made them eat that
instead while pointing them with my gun.
They do eat. They cry, but they eat.
So you may notice that I've realized the importance of
unchained hedonism.
My sex life is flowering like it has done never before.
Partly because of the super abundance, and partly
because of the unlimited possibilities I have to self-
fulfillment.
I couldn't even have dreamt of anything like this when
my home was still in the North.
My wife has written numerous letters to me. She's
asking when will I be able to visit her again.
I have promised her to come as soon as I can, but I
don't think I will do so.
Why would I?
Life is good here.
1965 –10 - 20-21
EXPLOITING THE COUNTRYSIDE
We've got a new business.
We have been contacted by some rich men from Japan,
Europe and The States, and they are willing to pay us
very large sums of money, if we are able to deliver
some fresh nigger women and children for them.
I suppose they want to have personal sex- and home
slaves for themselves.
This is a chance to get our hands on the big money.
Unfortunately the population of the cities is far from
fresh and prosperous, so they won't do.
We must go to the countryside. And it's quite risky.
We're not very used to move in the African nature, and
the natives are able to take us by surprise if we are
not careful enough.
Our only chance is to pretend that we're benefactors.
We are coming to them as friends.
We are entering the villages and giving some food for
them.
After all it's quite easy to gain their trust, because
the small villages are practically isolated from the
outside world. People don't know what we've been doing
in the big cities.
A typical village around here is built of thin canes or
trunks. The "houses" and the jungle are separated with
a high fence, which is built of the same material. At
the centre of a village is usually a big square, a
constant fire burns there to keep the wild animals
away.
But we're not afraid of fire.
Our method is just a bit troublesome.
Once we have chosen the ones that are suitable for us,
we must kill the rest of the population.
The choices have to be made in secret and then we have
to take the houses by storm. If we left them alive,
they could go after us and we wouldn't have very much
chances against them in a jungle combat.
Once again the machine guns are very useful. It's also
quite easy to blow up a whole cane-hut with a single
hand grenade. But we have to hurry. The fire moves very
quickly at the dry, wooden structure and it's easy to
get surrounded by it. Then the possibilities of getting
out are minimal, and we might die in the flames, like
the rest of the people.
But still this method is good, because it furthers the
possibilities of succeeding in our main task.
And if we succeed, each one of us will get enough money
to be able to get the hell out of Africa.
I'm not talking about pocket-money here.
I'm talking about the fact that we will probably be
able to spend the rest of our lives in pure luxury.
The risk is worth taking, so to say.
And we are taking it.
1966-01-13
ADIOS AMIGOS
I'm leaving.
The money I got from selling the nigger slaves have
made it possible.
I have bought my way out of the army. But I'm not
heading back to the North.
Sergeant Makela, me and a couple of other colleagues,
who took part in the looting expedition last autumn,
have decided to start from the far east. At first we're
going to Hong Kong.
We will make ourselves feel comfortable and then we'll
start studying the possibilities of making ourselves
feel even more comfortable. I know that the East can
offer us great possibilities to maintain the feeling of
paradise we have been used to.
My wife and the kids may feel free to fuck off, as far
as I'm concerned.
Everything went surprisingly well, after all.
We got a good catch: Eight teenage girls and eleven
children survived the trip back to the city.
It was a bit unfortunate that we couldn't satisfy our
needs with them. Our customers wanted their merchandise
to be shipped to them in good shape. Untouched.
So we had to be content with fucking the mouths of the
captives. And the transport wasn't easy too.
We tied their hands so they couldn't move them. And to
prevent running, we had to chain their legs.
The travel through the jungle to our trucks was pure
Hell, to be honest.
But that's history now.
I won't be missing this place. But on the other hand, I
wouldn't give away a single day of the time I've spent
here.
I know now, that the best a man can get is a complete
feeling of power.
To be able to rape and kill as much as one likes. And I
have done that.
I believe that no man, who says that he's got balls,
can be honest and admit that he doesn't enjoy seeing
how women and lower-raced people collapse in front of
his might.
That's an experience every man should have. Nothing's
more entertaining than beating a nigger whore to death
with your fists, at the same time as your cock is
raping her virgin cunt.
In my mind I can still hear all the begging and screams
of pain, which I didn't care of.
Even the memory is enough to get me hard again.
And I know that I'll be able to do well in the future
too. I am a wealthy man now, and it won't be a problem
for me to buy sex slaves from the poor families living
in the slums.
No-one will question my actions. Every man is
corruptible, and a bunch of dollars is an effective way
to get the police to close their eyes and ears from the
suffering of the innocent.
I am used to get what I want, and I want to destroy and
to see pain and suffering around me.
No-one can stop me now.
Don't blame the war for this. This is what I have
always liked to do. A war is a blessing of God.
Let's be honest to ourselves and ask: Which one is more
important? The satisfaction of a noble man, or the
happiness of a herd of living nigger shit?
I think the question doesn't need to be answered. Who
would care about their fates?
No-one, I would say.
They have deserved their hunger. Let's bring the slave
trade back and give the honour to the men who deserve
it.
Pity is a disease.
Captain Juhani Ruohonen
The 4th military police unit, second platoon
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 45