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From: conwic@aol.com (Conwic)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST: FEMALE POW (M+/F,nc,rape,war,tort) 1/5
Date: 17 Jun 1996 09:23:05 -0400
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DISCLAIMER; This story includes descriptions of rape, torture, and
bondage.  If
descriptions of sexual activity, particularly non-consenual sexual
activity, offend you, DO
NOT READ THIS STORY.  IF YOU ARE UNDER TWENTY-ONE YEARS OF AGE,
DO NOT READ THIS STORY.  DANGER: THIS STORY IS POLITICALLY
INCORRECT. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead,
is purely coincidental.
This story may be electronically reproduced and distributed where the laws
allow so long
as it is not changed in any way. I appreciate the comments and suggestions
which I have
received from readers and welcome further comments. All flames will be
ignored. 

           FEMALE POW: THE MOTHER OF ALL RAPES  (part1/5)


INTRODUCTION:  Largely because of the scandal caused by the Navy's 1991
"Tailhook"
convention , the ban on women flying U.S. combat aircraft was lifted on 28
April,1993. 
This story is a "what-if" looking at what might have happened if 
"Tailhook"  had
happened before the 1991 Gulf War and as a result women had flown combat
aircraft
during that war. 

******************************************************************
  It was the second day of the air war and Air Force Major Diana
 Barker was feeling very unhappy.  Part of this was attributable to 
the fact that she was sitting in the back of an Iraqi army truck with
 her hands tied behind her back and a bag over her head. She was thirsty, 
her body ached from the jolt she received when she ejected from her F-16,
and she was
afraid.  But most of all, she was pissed because she knew that she had
blown it.  After all
the hype, the first woman combat pilot had let herself get shot down on
her first combat
mission. All she could think of was how this was going to screw up her
plans for getting a
star.  She had spent the last ten years of her life working toward that
goal.  She had used
every resource at her command to get ahead in the air force, discovering
in her first year at
the academy that it was not so much a case of how good you were as how
well you could 
manipulate the system.  She soon realized that the Air Force's equal
opportunity program
was the perfect "ticket to ride" for someone like herself with a lot of
ambition and few
scruples. Those superiors she couldn't or wouldn't fuck , she blackmailed.
 As a woman,
the pressure on her superiors to ensure that she succeeded was already
great; adding the
threat to file a sexual harassment complaint made it irresistible. This
attitude earned her
the nickname of "Nutcracker".  Instead of angering her, Diana was  proud
of the
nickname, so proud that she used it as her radio callsign. A year ago when
the Air Force
opened fighters to women, she had been an obscure if talented captain
flying C-141
transports.  Now at 32,  Diana Barker was a high speed, low drag major and
the darling of
the media.  Unfortunately, the media demands of her "superstar" status had
not left her the
time or the inclination to master mundane matters like counter-SAM drills.

    As she rode,  Diana began to think that she could come out of this OK.
Aside from
some groping by the soldiers guarding her,  no one had mistreated her. Nor
was she the
type to be afraid of a little "grab-ass".  Diana was almost six feet tall
with the buff 
physique of a body builder combined with a 36" chest.  She was proud of
her body; like
everything about her from her short and sassy haircut to her choice of
cars,  it was part of
the "Top Gun" image she had created for herself.

   Diana could feel the change as the truck moved on to a hardtop road and
hours later
could detect the increase in sounds as they entered a city.  She surmised
that she must be
in Baghdad.  Eventually she felt the truck stop and she was hustled out
and into a building. 
There was some conversation in Arabic which she could not understand and
then more
walking , this time down some stairs and through numerous doors which
clanked
ominously behind her.  When the guards released her arms and spoke, Diana
could see
light through the bottom of the bag covering her head and sense the
presence of several
other men in the room besides her escorts.  Diana was very proud of how
tough she had
been at the Air Force's survival, escape ,and evasion school.  She thought
she could handle
a camel jockey. 

  Watching her from his seat  was Captain Vahid Yazeed of Saddam's special
security
service , one of his most promising young torturers.  He had been
personally selected by
the Great Leader to break the first American pilots captured and turn them
into
propaganda weapons .  Yazeed understood that the information he extracted
was of minor
importance   His job was to break the pilots' will, so that they would be
pliable tools in the
battle for American public opinion which would be waged using their own
media.  Though
he was surprised that the first POW was a woman, it made no difference in
his orders and
made the task that much more appealing to him.  A through sadist, Yazeed
had been
eagerly anticipating  watching his men rape an American male pilot. Now
that he had a
female pilot to work on, he looked forward to participating in the rape as
well. For rape
was a primary tool of his trade, used to break the subject, man or woman,
psychologically.  
Although he had tortured Iraqi and Kurdish women, Diana would be his first
Western
female.  Yazeed found the idea of having such a woman under his control
very exciting.

 "Strip her," ordered Yazeed as he leaned back in his chair and watched.  

   The guards untied Diana's hands and  unzipped her flight suit, then
pulled it off her and
set it carefully aside.  Then they ripped off her T shirt, bra and panties
, leaving her nude
but for her combat boots, dog tags,  and the bag covering her head.  Diana
did not try to
resist them; instead she concentrated on breathing slowly and calmly.  She
had been told
to expect this in survival school.  Stripping a person of their clothes
was meant to stripped
them of their confidence, her instructors had told her.  Still, knowing
that didn't make her
feel any braver right now.  

  Yazeed examined her body at length.  He found the large breasts with
their little finger
size nipples to be fascinating . The breasts and particularly the nipples
were a very
sensitive area  for a woman.  He would enjoy working on a woman so amply
endowed. 
Her muscular body was foreign to an Arab but nevertheless appealing.  Not
only did it
arouse him, but it would serve his purposes well since she could suffer
longer before she
reached her physical limit.  Only her neatly trimmed pubic hair repelled
him. Unlike  this
Western slut, respectable Arab women shaved their pubic hair.  Though he
knew that he
should wait longer to let the humiliation of standing nude before unseen
men play upon
her, Yazeed could not wait to see her face.  Half afraid he would find an
ugly hag , he
ordered the bag removed from her head.  He was pleased to find a
beautiful, mature face
framed by reddish brown hair. 

  Diana remained at attention when the guard pulled off the bag. 
Unaccustomed to the
bright lights, she could see nothing until her eyes adjusted.  Then she
saw two men in front
of her.  One was seated; he was a clean shaven man about her age wearing a
well tailored
officer's uniform whose rank she did not recognize.  Standing behind him
in the classic
flunky position was a younger, very worried looking man in a shabby
uniform.  Diana
ignored him and concentrated on the officer.  She could sense the presence
of her guards
behind her but ignored them as well.  

  Yazeed spoke briefly.  The younger man standing behind him translated, "
You are in the
custody of the security service.  You are not a prisoner of war but a
criminal guilty of
crimes against the state of  Iraq and will be treated accordingly.  Your
only hope for
leniency is to cooperate fully."

  " I am Major Diana Barker, serial number 309-48-8221, United States Air
Force.  I
demand to be treated as a prisoner of war.  What you are doing is contrary
to the Geneva
Convention; you could be tried as a war criminal for mistreating a
prisoner"  It sounded a
little pompous, but Diana was just pleased to have gotten through it
without her voice
breaking.  She had to make this man understand that she was someone he
couldn't push
around.  

  At a nod of Yazeed's head the guard to her right jabbed her hard in the
kidney with a
short wooden club, sending her to the floor doubled up in pain.  As she
lay there, she
dimly heard the translator tell her that the Captain did not like speeches
other than his
own.  Another order from Yazeed had the guard haul her to her feet by her
hair.  

Yazeed spoke at length before the translator turned to her and said, " The
Captain says
that  your country is foolish to use women in its air force and to use
them in a war. That
you will be the one to pay the price for your country's foolish ideas.
Being a woman will
not protect you.  Nor will the Geneva Convention protect you here. What is
your unit,
your base location, and what was your mission?"

  Diana glared at the seated officer as she replied, " Barker, Diana,
Major, USAF, serial
number 309-48-8221.  I demand to speak to a senior officer."  As she
finished her reply, a
nod from Yazeed again brought a painful jab from the guard behind her. 
She kept her feet
this time but saw stars.  As she resumed her position of attention, the
Iraqi officer left his
chair and stood in front of her.  To her disgust, he began running his
hands over her
breasts, weighing the heavy globes in his hands.  As she clinched her fist
in helpless fury,
he smiled unpleasantly and spoke to the translator, giving his words
emphasis by twisting
her nipples.

  " The Captain says that you are a  foolish woman who thinks that she is
going to a tea
party, not a war..  He says that you will not be so uncooperative after
the guards have
finished with you. He says that the guards will enjoy raping you.  They
have never had a
Western woman before and are curious if what they have heard of the
insatiable sexual
appetite of Western women is true."  As he continued, the young man's
anxious expression
gave way to one of real fear.   "Remember that you are totally in his
hands to do with as
he wishes; no one can help you here.  If you do not obey him and answer
all his questions,
he will do terrible things to you.  Please, what is your unit, your base,
and your mission?"

Diana hesitated.  She was not prepared for the crude direct approach of
the Iraqi Captain. 
She had expected captivity to be mostly mind games just as it had been at
her training
course. But her training wasn't the real world of the middle East.  Now,
things were
moving too fast for her.  She felt she had to slow things down, pretend to
give in to gain
time.  This sort of information was of little value anyway; certainly not
worth a gang rape. 
She replied , " I am from the 417th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 250th
Tactical Fighter
Wing which is based at Dhahran.  I was flying an aircap when the missile
hit me."  Diana 's
face burned as she spoke. She was ashamed that she had given in so soon;
but since the
information was all lies she knew it would do no harm.

Yazeed listened to the translation, consulted a black notebook , and  then
turned to Diana
with a chilling smile.  The translator listened to him and  said," The
Captain says that you
are a poor liar.  We are not stupid ; we have CNN here too. We saw the
reporter do his
story about your loss.  Some of our pilots  spent a lot of time in Saudi
Arabia when we
were fighting the accused Iranians.  They tell us that the base he
broadcast from was Al
Mindhat not Dhahran; the buildings are quite different.  Nor is there any
417th fighter
squadron or 250th fighter wing listed for your active air force.  The
Captain now intends
to teach you a lesson in what happens when you lie to him."

Yazeed stepped back and gave an order to the guards.  They grabbed her
arms and
dragged her to a long bar hanging from the ceiling.  A sharp blow to the
stomach
precluded resistance on Diana's part as they secured her hands in manacles
at the ends of
the bar.  Then the two men grabbed her muscular legs and bent them back
until the lower
legs were a foot above and parallel to the floor.  A sharp order to the
translator sent him
to help the two guards by tying a rope around her booted feet and then to
the ends of the
bar.  In a moment, Diana hung from the ceiling, her muscular arms
supporting her entire
weight, with her legs tied like the short leg of an "L" behind her.  As
she cursed the Iraqi
guards, one of them held a bottle of clear fluid to her mouth while the
second guard  used
his fingers to close off her nose.  As Diana choked and sputtered, they
poured the vile
tasting  fluid down her all the while laughing. .Even the translator
seemed amused as he
told her, " The bottle held a powerful laxative.  The Captain says that
now you will not be
so full of shit. "

The guards then gagged her with a rubber ball gag, patted her ass,  and
left;  Captain
Yazeed and his translator remained.  The officer stood in front of Diana ,
caressing her
prominent nipples again.  He began twisting the sensitive flesh with his
strong fingers as he
stared into her face.  He worked on them one at a time, twisting and
squeezing the nubs
until they hardened involuntarily. The twisting was no more painful than
foreplay but  it
was humiliating to Diana to have this man use her body so casually.  When
he was
satisfied with the erectness of her nipples, Yazeed brought a pair of
small metal clamps,
alligator clips actually from a voltage meter, out of his pocket.  The
clamps had serrated
teeth and a powerful spring.  He placed each carefully on her elongated
nipples and then
released both at once.  The sharp teeth bit down into the tender flesh of
Diana's nipples,
drawing tiny drops of blood almost instantly.  Diana screamed into her gag
as the two
clips bit into her nipples. The pain was overwhelming;  for a moment she
thought her
nipples had been cut off.   Then Yazeed took a roll of thick green tape
and tore off a strip
about six inches long.  Without a word, he smoothed it down over her pubic
hair. 
Looking her in the face, he ripped the tape off her .  Diana's head went
back as another
sharp pain shot up her body.  Dimly she realized that he was pulling her
pubic hair off. 
Yazeed confirmed this for her as he held up the tape with a handful of her
short hairs
attached and grinned.  The Iraqi officer varied the way he pulled each
piece of tape off;
sometimes pulling slowly so that she felt every hair pull out and
sometimes quickly so that
she didn't feel the pain until he was holding the tape up for her
inspection.  Eventually he
was satisfied by the now hairless vee between her spread legs. He tore off
one last piece.  
This one went over her anus so that she could not excrete anything until
it was removed. 
Then the officer and his flunky left as well, leaving Diana alone with her
pain.

Diana knew that they were going to rape her.  The use of the laxative made
it obvious that
they intended to sodomize her.  She had never allowed anyone to take her
in the ass.  The
thought of one or more of them using her in that way terrified her.  She
could have
tolerated normal intercourse, but not sodomy. Visions of her anal rape
began running
unbidden through her mind, accented by the pain of the clamps biting into
her sensitive
nipples and the strain of her weight pulling on her arm muscles.