We are in a dark place. It's cold. An icy draft is blowing thought the thin fabric of my dress. There are several of us. ...men, women, and children. I don't know how many. We are hiding; being discovered would mean death.

Through the wall in front of me, I hear a sickening mixture of screaming and laughter. A young girl is being raped by a group of soldiers. I hear the thud of her being thrown down, and the ripping of her clothing. If we are found, the same thing will happen to me and the other women.

Tears are trickling down my cheeks. As I sniffle in the darkness, two strong hands squeeze my shoulders, as if to comfort me. They are rough and calloused. A man's voice is whispering in my ear.

"Hush," it says. "Be still."

His hands release my shoulders. They... Oh my! ...my breasts! He is squeezing my breasts! I am trying to pull his hands away, but he is too strong.

"Be still," he whispers, again. "Don't make a sound."

I can't see his face; it's too dark. I have no idea who this man is. He is fondling my breasts! His hands are cupping and molding them. Ow! My nipples are stiff from the cold, and they are being pinched and squeezed. Who is this man? Why is he doing this to me?

Oh my God! His left hand is sliding down my front. He's feeling... He's touching me. ...between my legs! ...rubbing me through the front of my dress. Oh God, I want to scream, but I don't dare. I am afraid to even move; the soldiers might hear.

The young girl has stopped screaming. She is crying now. I can clearly hear her loud, broken sobs, and the grunting of the soldier raping her. I can hear their naked bodies slapping together.

The man has let go of me. I am trying to move a way, but he is pressing me against the wall. I feel a draft on the back of my knees. Oh God! He is lifting the back of my dress. I can't believe this is happening! I have never felt so helpless in my life.

I'm trying to pull my dress down. He let go! He has grabbed my left wrist. Ow! My arm is being twisted up behind my back. I am using my right hand to cover my own mouth, muffling my whimpering. It hurts!

Once again, I can feel a cold breeze on my knees. My dress is being lifted, again! Now I can feel a draft on my goose-pimpled thighs, and now on my buttocks. As tight as I can, I clamp my legs together. I'm shivering. Not only from the cold, but with fear. How far is he going to go? When is this humiliating intrusion going to end?

The young girl is letting a out a long, hoarse, wailing cry of anguish; the soldier is climaxing. His gutteral groans of pleasure - as he concludes is assault on her - fill the air. For a moment, it is quieter. The only sound being that of the girl's gentle weeping. Then, the grunting and slapping noises start again; a second soldier has taken the place of the first.

The man molesting me is chuckling softly in my ear. He is telling me to relax. ...to open my legs. One of his hands is still twisting my arm, and holding up my dress. The other, is groping my buttocks. His fingers are pushing my undercloths aside, moving around to my front. Oh my God! They're sliding through my pubic hair. He's stroking my labia and clitoris. His calloused fingers feel even rougher against the tender flesh of my vulva. One of his fingers is trying to worm its way into my vagina.

I wish I could scream. I wish I could do anything. I would try fighting him again, but he would only twist my arm further. He obviously doesn't care how much he hurts me. He doesn't care anything about me. He just wants to use me the way the soldiers are using that poor girl.

He has given up trying to get a finger into my vagina. He's pulling my hips back toward him. In my ear, I hear his whispering voice telling me to spread my legs and bend over.

I would rather die. But, I can't endanger the lives of the others. If he twists my arm further, it'll break. Oh God, I don't know what to do!

Behind my back, I can feel him fumbling with the front of his pants. Now, there is no doubt in my mind as to his intentions. He intends on raping me!

I am thankful for the darkness; it is preserving the tiniest part of my dignity. Even if the others could see, I doubt it would make any difference to him. Taking advantage of me under these circumstances proves he is no better than the soldiers.

I feel sick to my stomach. His stiff, naked penis is pressing in between my exposed buttocks. His fingers have pulled away my under things. The spongy head of his penis is pushing painfully against my anus. He is whispering to me, again.

"Spread your legs," He says. "Spread them or I'll shove it up your bottom."

Oh, dear, God! I have no choice. There is no way I could stand that kind of pain without screaming. I have to comply. For the sake of the others, I have to submit to this horrible man's wishes.

Through the wall, I hear more voices than before. There are more soldiers, and they have brought another girl with them. She is crying, asking for her mother. From the sound of her voice, she is even younger than the first girl. A soldier tells her that her mother and sister are busy 'making babies' and he is going to show her how it is done. The soldiers are laughing. I feel like they are laughing at me, too.

I have opened my legs, and I am bending forward, literally offering my attacker what he wants. I feel awful. I have never felt such dread and self loathing. I feel like I am as despicable as he is. A better woman would have endured the pain rather then spread her legs willingly. I hate myself for not being stronger. All I can do is cry, feeling sorry for myself.

He is lowering his penis from my anus, slipping it in between my flared labia. Its tip is wet and slippery. Although my vagina is dry, it grudgingly eases open, accepting him. He presses into me further, whispering in my ear, telling me what a whore I am. The shame I feel is unbearable. My entire face is wet with my tears.

The younger girl is now screaming. A third soldier is now raping the older girl. We are all three experiencing our own private hell. Each of us is having her vagina filled and refilled with the penis of some terrible, hated man. The difference is they can see their attackers and I can not. I don't know which is worse. But, as awful and demeaning as it is, at least I will only have to endure one rape. Those poor girls, and any others the soldiers have captured, will be raped repeatedly for the next few days. Many of them will be maimed or mutilated for sport. And, many of them will die, either at the hands of their rapists or by their own hand.

Another soldier is climaxing. Several others are arguing over who is next. In the distance, I can hear the sounds of yet another rape.

My own rape is continuing at a snail's pace. The time it takes for him to push his penis into my vagina is torturously long. And then, he withdraws it just as slowly. Each stroke takes what seems to be an eternity. And, with each agonizingly slow stroke, he continues to whisper obcenities in my ear.

His breath is hot and ragged. He is gripping my waist so tightly it hurts. His penis has stopped moving altogether, its full length pressed deep inside me. It's throbbing! His warm semen is flooding my vagina! I feel so humiliated. I can't stop crying; I am filled with his sperm, and full of self pity.

He is moving again. ...out, in, out, in, out. He has withdrawn his penis entirely. He's gone. He's moved away, leaving me alone and degraded in this dark place.

The End