Suzanne was running for her life through muddy fields and dense forest, attempting to evade the sniper who was on her tail. She’d been grounded by one of their anti aircraft missiles, and her parachute was kind enough to tangle itself into a chestnut tree, of all things. The spiky shells of the nuts had pierced the fabric of the chute and stuck as if they were deliberately trying to hinder her escape, and so she had to hurry to cut herself down. From her vantage point in the tree she couldn’t miss the convoy of vehicles that was attempting to negotiate the rough terrain to intercept her.
As she made her way through the trees the convoy had been her most pressing concern, right up until the point that Suzanne felt herself being pelted with the bark of another chestnut tree. The bullet had lodged itself into the unfortunate tree at about the height of her knee, and had missed hitting her by only a few centimetres. From the direction that the tree had been hit, Suzanne realised that it could not have been a member of the convoy who had fired upon her. She was being flanked by a sniper.
He was fast, and he was a good shot. From the shot that had come near to her, it looked as if he was aiming to wound her rather than kill. Some consolation at least, although she certainly didn’t want to find out what he would do to her if he caught her. She rounded a corner to find a thicker patch of trees in the distance that would provide better cover, if she could get to them. She ran for it, using the small rocks for cover as best as she could. She reached the trees safely and continued running for several minutes before sinking to her knees to rest.
After catching her breath, Suzanne thought it best to move on. She quietly got to her feet, scanning the trees ahead for the best route out of the forest. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met those of her pursuer; he was crouched in the trees no more than twenty feet away from her. She panicked and ran, attempting to get a head start before he could get up. Too slow, too slow, too slow! her brain chanted as she stumbled on the uneven ground. Her sniper, used to this land, had no such trouble. He seemed to have decided that he was too close to use his gun in such dense forest. Or he was just enjoying the chase. Either way, at least she wasn’t getting shot at.
Suzanne didn’t spare a moment to look back, but she knew he was close; she could hear his breathing as he ran along behind her. He laughed as he saw her stumble, but he didn’t catch her. He was playing with her, enjoying the chase. Bastard. He said something to her as he matched her pace. Her Serbian wasn’t too good, but she was pretty sure that what she heard went against the Geneva Convention. Her face burned in rage as she heard him mention something about enjoying the view and almost not wanting to catch her.
She reached the top of a small hill within the woods and cried out in shock as she realised that the ground dropped out from under her feet for several metres, and she didn’t have any hope of stopping in time. She fell through the air and landed back on the forest floor with a thud. Winded, she tried to roll over and get back to her feet, but she was dragged backwards and flipped onto her back again. Caught. Shit.
Sasha was glowing with the thrill of the chase, but he kept his expression brutal. The woman was still trying to get away, and aimed a kick at his shin while attempting to punch him in the face. She was impressive; she connected both of her strikes before he was able to evade. Not a problem; she was fast but she couldn’t hit as hard as his bones were used to. He grabbed her wrists and held her still, growled in her ear for her to lie still. She either didn’t understand him or she was ignoring him. It didn’t matter either way, he still needed her to stop. He slapped her hard, and then backhanded her as well, but she only redoubled her efforts to escape. She was screaming what he could only assume were insults as she continued to kick.
“Get off me you murdering bastard!” the woman screamed as she tried to free herself from his grip. Her face had turned an angry red from the force of the blow that he had inflicted on her, but she seemed determined not to let him see that he had hurt her. Angered by her refusal to cooperate, Sasha screamed “Shut up!” at her in Serbian. She stopped screaming, but wrestled her arms free and rolled on top of him so that she could put her weight behind her fist as she smacked it into his jaw.
Sasha had had enough by now. He could have shot the woman easily, but his commanding officer wanted her for questioning. He’d been given specific instructions to deliver her alive and as unharmed as possible. He dragged himself back on top of her, and decided to threaten her in a different way. He yanked her legs apart, and moved on top of her so that his groin was digging into hers, then dragged her hands above her head and held her down. She groaned as he held her face level with his, and shouted at her to shut up again. She obeyed.
Suzanne was stuck. The threat was unmistakable, regardless of which language they were speaking. She could lie still, or he would play dirty. He was slowly grinding his hips into hers and she groaned in disgust as she felt a treacherous heat start to build inside her body. She writhed against him, trying to break free of his hold before her body betrayed her any further. It didn’t work. He let go of her face and slid his palm over her breasts and squeezed until she screamed in anger.
They carried on struggling, until eventually Sasha had the woman lying still on the ground. She was brave, but she did not want to be raped. He knew that she understood at least some of his language, so he decided to talk dirty to her until he got a reaction.
Suzanne groaned softly as the sniper continued his assault on her, grinding into her while holding her down and whispering into her ear. He was saying that he was going to fuck her and that he was looking forward to hearing her scream as he came inside her. He hissed that she was going to blow him until he collapsed and that she would be begging him for more by the end of the day. She tried to hold back a moan of fear as Sasha slid his hand back up to hold her head still, and then bent down and kissed her. She felt her body go rigid against him as he continued his assault on her mouth.
His warm lips felt scorching against her freezing skin, causing a bolt of electricity to burst through her veins. As he hunted for a way inside her mouth, Suzanne struggled to drag air into her protesting lungs and she suddenly found herself swathed in his scent. The analytical part of her brain noticed faint traces of soap, gun oil and sweat before she felt him begin to nibble. His tongue bathed her chapped lips in yet more heat as they danced across the trail left by his teeth. The heat of his mouth was trickling into her own body, and Suzanne shuddered as he leaned into her, deepening the kiss.
Bleep. The man finally came up for air and seemed to curse to himself as he grabbed his radio and silenced the sound before talking into it too rapidly for her to try to comprehend. Following this, he was up and dragging her to her feet in a matter of moments. Suzanne felt dazed, and fairly disgusted with herself for showing a reaction to her attacker. She scowled at him as he looked down at her. He had tied her wrists together behind her back and was about to lead her off to god knows where. He noticed the scowl and grabbed her by the chin.
The sniper held Suzanne’s eyes level with his as he pulled her against him. With her arms behind her back she had no way of holding herself away from him. As her body slid against his again a confusing wave of primitive emotion rushed through her; fear and anger and a small amount of arousal that scared her more than any threat of physical pain. He started to talk and the wave of emotion became a storm, threatening to overwhelm her.
“You’re very lucky that my commanding officer wants to speak with you,” he growled softly. “Otherwise I would have had so much fun with you, little girl.” Suzanne didn’t understand everything he was saying, but she definitely got the gist. “For your own sake,” he went on,” I hope you can tell him what he wants to know. Otherwise, you’re going to suffer. He has people who are trained to cause pain without damaging your body, so that they can make you scream for days. They’ll hit you and fuck you until you can’t move anymore, until you stop screaming and you wish they would kill you. And if you still won’t tell him what he wants to know, he’ll throw you to the grunts and let them fuck you until you do.”
This was not Suzanne’s first field mission, and her training had taught her better than to show fear in a situation like this. So when the sniper’s words dragged a whimper out of her chilled and tired body, she told herself she had done so on purpose so that he might underestimate her in the future. But she wasn’t entirely sure that this was true, and that uncertainty shocked her back to her senses.
It wasn’t so much his words that scared her, but the burning arousal that was apparent in his eyes, his voice and his body. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to hear her scream for him. Her eyes hardened in defiance; they could do whatever they wanted to her, she wasn’t going to beg. He smiled down at her nastily; as if he knew exactly how to wipe that look off her face. He inched his face downwards, allowing his mouth to caress hers once again. Electricity and warmth started to flow through her again, and she tried to twist her face away but his grip was like iron. He deepened the kiss and continued his torture until Suzanne couldn’t hold back a tiny moan of arousal.
With the look of defiance erased from Suzanne’s face, the sniper released her from his grip and then grabbed her by the arm, shoving her ahead of him. He had his pistol in his hand, a gentle reminder that trying to run away would be a bad idea. It took only a few minutes to reach their base camp, and then he was disappointed to be parted from his prize.
Suzanne was relieved to find that she was being taken away from the sniper and would be brought for an audience with the man in charge, who thankfully spoke English. Her mission so far had not gone to plan, and she needed to find a way back on target as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to manage that, until she was dragged in front of an older man who took far more care over his uniform than the rest of his soldiers. A Serbian officer whose face she recognised in a heartbeat.
“Why were you flying over this area?” the man asked. Careful to try to mask the fact that she recognised the man, Suzanne feigned stupidity, and replied that she was sightseeing. The man snorted, then warned her that she would suffer greatly if she didn’t cooperate. To that, Suzanne smiled sweetly and replied that she looked forward to it. He also smiled at that, then motioned for the guards who had marched her in to pick her up. She was placed at the front of a small platform and tied to a beam in the ceiling so that her arms were above her head, and her toes only just touched the floor.
“I will ask you one more time,” the man in charge said. “What were you doing in my country?” Suzanne remained silent. He snorted again, then motioned to someone standing in the shadows to one side. Suzanne heard someone walk towards her. “I believe you have already met Sasha?” he asked, and the man came in to view. The man from the woods.
She didn’t recognise the name for a moment; it had not been in the mission files. But as Suzanne’s brain sifted through the hours of intel that her handler had provider to her, it suddenly made a connection. Sasha was a pet name, short for Aleksandar. And that name she definitely did recognise. As her brain helpfully recalled the gory details of this man’s past deeds, Suzanne had to suppress a tremble of fear that was trying to flee down her spine. She had originally worried that she was being taken away from her mission when Sasha had caught her, but nothing could be further from the truth.
The man in charge motioned to Sasha, and Sasha stopped in front of Suzanne, a rather mean-looking knife in hand. He was tall, she realised as his eyes met hers. The platform that she’d been standing on had raised her at least eight inches, but she was still no higher than him. He stared into her eyes, smiling cruelly. He let the knife play across her cheek as he gauged her reactions.
“Sasha is very talented in the ways of causing physical pain,” the man in charge continued, and Suzanne wished that she could have suspected him of bluffing. “I strongly suggest that you cooperate with me, so that you can leave here with your body intact.”
Sasha turned to the other man and spoke softly in a dialect that she couldn’t understand. The other man laughed and turned back towards Suzanne. “He wants me to stop asking you to cooperate,” he said. “He will be very disappointed to not have the opportunity to hear you scream for him.”
“Well I would hate to disappoint him,” Suzanne replied, intending it to sound sarcastic. To her own disgust, her voice was shaking. Her retort came out as more of a plea than an insult and Sasha smiled at that, stroking his free hand into the hair at the nape of Suzanne’s neck so that he could hold her still. He slid his mouth to her ear and licked over her earlobe, then gently started to suck until Suzanne gasped in response and had to bite her lip to stop a moan from escaping her mouth.
Oh god! Suzanne thought. How does he manage to make me respond so easily? She tried to turn her head away, but his hand in her hair kept her still. He came up for air and took a small step backwards, looking her over slowly.
He was dirty, but then so was she. They had gotten spattered in mud during their fight earlier, and his short brown hair was still crusted and matted down against his head. His dark brown eyes glinted with a sadistic gleam as he seemed to consider his next course of action, and Suzanne resigned herself to the fact that this was going to be a very long night. If she was going to stand any chance of getting out of this and completing her objective, she was going to have to let them think that they had the upper hand.
She knew that the normal reaction in these circumstances would be fear, and she was definitely afraid. But there was something about this man that her body was reacting to, and she was more afraid of that than of the pain she was going to receive. He stepped back towards her and slid his mouth against her ear again.
“Are you getting wet for me?” he whispered, his voice going gravelly. It took Suzanne a couple of moments to decipher the meaning of the rather unfamiliar language. She blushed as she realised what he was saying and tried to turn her head away, but Sasha had slid his knife up to rest against her cheek. He pressed very gently until she moved her head back against his. He repeated his question; he wanted an answer.
“Ne!” Suzanne replied, hoping she wasn’t going to have to try to speak too much Serbian. Her comprehension of the language wasn’t very good, but her pronunciation was even worse.
“No?” Sasha repeated. He didn’t seem convinced. He slid his hand from the small of her back, over the curve of her arse and between her legs. Suzanne yelped and tried to pull herself away from his probing hand, but only managed to thrust herself against his body. He laughed at that, held her against him. She whimpered in despair as he continued to probe between her legs for a couple of moments, then decided that he couldn’t feel enough to decide if she was wet or not.
Suzanne struggled pointlessly against her bonds as he stripped off her clothes until she was entirely naked, using his knife to cut through her shirt and bra. Staring straight ahead, she tried to block out the shame of being naked in front of these people. Sasha put his knife away and looked her over. Her breasts were full, slightly large for her frame, and had delicate pink nipples that were rapidly hardening under his stare. Her legs and stomach were taut and toned, but she still managed to have full hips and a round arse. He moved behind her, sliding his left arm around her waist and his right hand to the front of her thigh.
“Are you sure you aren’t wet?” he asked softly, stroking his hand from the front to the inside of her thigh. He smiled as he saw Suzanne’s face darken with anger at his touch, and she wriggled against him in an attempt to get him off her. “Mmm? Do you want me to touch you?”
Suzanne repeated her answer from earlier, but it sounded a lot more desperate than it had before. He laughed softly, stroked a little higher, his fingers rubbing the line where her thighs met her nether regions, then higher… He slid one finger inside her very gently, eliciting a humiliated cry from the girl. There was no way that she could deny the fact that she was utterly wet and ready for him. He moaned softly and growled something that she couldn’t quite understand, something guttural and raw. Her body reacted regardless of the fact that she didn’t understand; he sounded powerful and masculine and entirely erotic. She felt her muscles tighten around his finger as she moaned wantonly and wanted to die right there; he was supposed to be raping her and it seemed like her body wanted him inside her more than it wanted air in her lungs.
“Shhh,” he whispered softly, sliding his finger out of her, his actions still gentle. He moved so that he was facing her again, and held her jaw still. “I’ll be inside you soon, and I’ll fuck you as hard as you need.” He slid his finger—glistening with moisture–to rest on her lower lip. Suzanne did as he wanted, sucking his finger clean. He growled, dragged her against him and kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth to taste the juices that she had licked from his fingers.
Suzanne was whimpering as Sasha kissed her. She was trying to control herself, but it just wasn’t working. She moaned in pleasure as he slid his mouth to her throat and started to nuzzle. “Oh god,” she whispered as he continued to torment her. “You’re so sexy.” She froze in shock as the words tumbled out of her mouth, but then relaxed a little. He didn’t speak English and the other guy was too far away to hear what she had said…
She froze again as Sasha replied, in English: “Thank you. So are you.”
“You speak English?!” she snapped, trying to hide her embarrassment with anger. He smiled back at her.
“Never said I didn’t,” he replied. Suzanne’s eyes were blazing.
“You bastard!” she whispered. “Let me down so I can kill you!”
“No,” he replied simply. He slid his right hand onto her left breast and stroked over her nipple. She was not amused. She kicked out at him, and hit him square in the balls, hard. She expected him to go down, or double over at least. He grunted and took a step back, that was all. These people were tough. His eyes turned black with anger and he grabbed her by the throat.
“Okay baby,” he growled, switching back to his own language. “No more fucking foreplay.” He balled his right hand into a fist and punched her in the left cheek, and he didn’t pull his punches. Suzanne’s head lurched to the side and she stayed there for several moments, stunned. She slowly came back to her senses and realised that blood was flowing from her nose and her mouth. As she raised her head she saw him prepare to hit her again, but she wasn’t going to be able to stop him in time. The second blow was harder, and she cried out in agony as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back up to face him.