The arrival of new captives was like a wave of fresh meat to hungry wolves. The camp buzzed with a energy, the soldiers eager to break in the new arrivals with acts designed not just for dominance.
Chapter 11: "A New Batch of Captives"
Under the harsh midday sun, the arrival of new captives was announced by the clanging of chains and the murmur of soldiers, their eagerness palpable as they gathered, ready to begin breaking in the newcomers.
The Aftermath
As the new captives were paraded before the soldiers, their bodies were scrutinized with a predatory gaze. Gunnar, with his broad, muscular shoulders and strong legs, was noted for his potential in hard labor and intimate uses. Torsten, a younger and less battle-hardened warrior, with smooth skin and a slender build, was seen as a plaything for more inventive cruelties.
Gunnar was first, his resistance met with a brutal display of power. Several soldiers held him down, his muscular form stretched out, his back arched under their force. They took turns penetrating him, but the humiliation was far from over. One soldier, laughing, forced Gunnar to lick the sweat from his armpits, the taste of defeat bitter on his tongue. Another, in a display of dominance, urinated over Gunnar's bruised body, the warm liquid a stark reminder of his new place.
Torsten faced a different kind of brutality, his youth exploited. They forced him to kneel, his face close to the ground, as they made him lick the dirt from their boots, his tongue scraping against the leather. The soldiers then took turns, not just with penetration but by forcing him to swallow their body fluids, his face contorted in disgust and pain, his innocence shattered by their invasive acts.
Jorund, his body marked by the toil of manual labor, was pushed to his limits. After the initial penetration, where his muscular rear was used mercilessly, they subjected him to further degradation. One soldier, in a twisted game, had Jorund open his mouth, spitting into it, then forcing him to swallow, laughter echoing at his visible disgust. Another, with a sadistic grin, used Jorund's mouth as a receptacle for urine, the act both a physical violation and a psychological assault.
Sigmund, lean but strong, was encircled by a group of soldiers, each one eager to mark him with their dominance. They used him in ways that mocked his previous life, not just through penetration but by making him clean their bodies with his tongue, from their feet to their chests, the taste of their sweat a constant reminder of his subservience. One soldier, in an act of control, urinated directly into Sigmund's mouth, his body convulsing with the effort to endure such humiliation.
The existing captives watched this initiation with a grim understanding of their shared fate. Among the soldiers, this was a bonding ritual, their laughter a proof to their camaraderie, built on the shared act of breaking others. They patted each other on the back, their unity reinforced by each act of dominance.
Left to process their new reality, these captives were marked not just by bruises and pain but by the deeper scars of humiliation. Their bodies were now tools, their strength, youth, and dignity exploited in the most degrading ways imaginable. The use of bodily fluids, the forced acts of submission, were not just about physical control but about reshaping these men into the submissive roles this society demanded, where every touch, every taste, was a lesson in their new, harsh existence.
Chapter 11.1: "The raid was swift"
The raid was swift, a storm of steel and shouts as the soldiers of Al-Nur descended upon the brothel, their intentions as clear as the morning sky. The prostitutes were swiftly herded away, destined for the women's quarters, their roles now defined by labor and procreation. However, the real prize of this conquest were not the women but the brothel's guards — muscular, aggressive men, their bodies sculpted by a life of physical confrontation. Their wide backs, thick necks, and bulging biceps spoke of their strength, their very presence testified to brute force.
Once the dust settled, the soldiers encircled these prizes, their laughter a mix of triumph and malicious anticipation. The guards, despite their size and strength, found themselves at the mercy of the soldiers' whims, their aggression now a mockery in this new context.
The first guard was pushed down onto his knees by several soldiers, their hands like iron clamps on his broad shoulders. His face, marked by the scars of past brawls, was forced to meet the first act of his degradation. One soldier, with a grin that split his face, unbuckled his trousers, presenting his member, already hard with the thrill of victory. "Open wide, big beast," he taunted, and the guard, his eyes burning with defiance, was forced to comply. The taste of defeat was immediate, the soldier's member pressing into his mouth, the humiliation palpable as others watched, their laughter echoing off the brothel's walls.
Another guard, his body like that of a bull, was tackled by a group of soldiers, his strength turned into a spectacle. They pinned him down, his muscular form stretched out, his resistance futile against their numbers. They took turns, one after another, their members penetrating him from behind, each thrust a declaration of their dominance over this once-feared brute. His grunts of pain mixed with the soldiers' jeers, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a harsh rhythm in the air. One of the guards, known for his ferocity, was made to endure both oral and anal penetration simultaneously, his body contorted in ways that mocked his former power. His wide shoulders shook with each invasion, his neck strained as he tried to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the soldiers were relentless.
They commented on the guards' size, their strength now a jest, their aggression turned into a source of amusement. "Look at this one, thought he was a bull, now he's our cow!" one soldier laughed, slapping the guard's muscular buttocks, now red from their assault.
As the sun dipped lower, signaling the end of this part of their conquest, the guards were left in their new reality, their bodies used and marked by the soldiers' acts. Their once-imposing figures now symbols of the soldiers' control, their strength turned against them, their pride shattered in the dust of the brothel's floor. The soldiers, their victory complete, left to share stories of their conquests, their camaraderie tighter for the shared experience of breaking these strong men.
