13 months

13 Months…it was thirteen months in captivity, now finally in the sanctity of my permanent home.

We have lost one in our family; do not know if he is still alive…hope so. But we have also added three more to our family.

Thirteen months ago, my husband, our two children, and myself were two months into what we perceived as a humanitarian mission. The mission precipitated by an unexpected windfall when we had won a portion of a large lottery the year before. In our narcissist nativity, we thought we could help change the world. So off we all went with the intent of helping in a war torn area of the world. We thought the good guys had finally taken control of their surroundings.

We were wrong.

The village we were in was over run by the opposition. It happened in the middle of the night. They busted into our house, dragging each of us out of bed and into the main room. They were not gentle and they all were well armed. Never even let us cover up other than what we had gone into bed with. My husband in shorts, same for our son, I had on a very light nightdress with nothing-on underneath. Our daughter, still a teenager, only had an oversize tee shirt.

Our puritanical overzealous thoughts of modesty were instantly dashed as a large, coarse, dirty, mean man walked right up to me and reached for the top of my nightdress. I instinctively raised my hands to resist. The man backhanded me so hard it rattled my teeth…and in one movement, my dress was on the floor. My naked body was now on display to everyone in the room…including my children.

Seconds later…Sara, our teenage daughter, was sharing the same fate.

Worse yet, the guy that tore Sara’s shirt off, was now was fondling her young breasts…making approving motions towards his companions.

She tried to pull away, a look of desperation on her face. The offender just clamped her breast pulling her towards him.

I was not spared…two hands came from behind me and grabbed my breasts just as the attacker emitted a grunting laugh. Then one hand slipped off of a breast and slid straight down to my exposed privates. Two fingers immediately violated me, sticking them deep within my vagina.

I tried to wriggle free, but was rewarded by another hard slap to the face and hard twisting squeeze of my breast.

My husband made a move in an attempt to come to either my or our daughter’s rescue…a rifle butt to his head laid him out on the floor.
At that moment…I knew that Sara and I were going to get raped. My god…Sara was still a virgin.

But…it was obvious that she would not be shortly. The guy accosting her already had his pants pulled down. The SOB had what looked like a summer sausage hanging between his legs and the most sinister smile I had ever seen.

Sara’s eyes were wide with fear, tears forming at the corners as she started to cry. She looked at me as if I was able to stop the impending event. I was powerless, all that I could do is give her a look of reassurance and love, hoping we all will recover.

The guy grabbed Sara’s neck, spinning her around and on top of the dinning room table. Her legs flailing as her attacker stepped between them. The sausage between his legs no longer was hanging, but hard as a baseball bat, pointing straight out, zeroing in on my daughter’s virginity. Still holding her by the throat he stepped forward the tip of his penis spreading the folds of Sara’s virgin privates.

The touch elicited a sharp reaction from Sara, her body arched upward in an attempt to move. But the strong hand on her throat prevented her from moving away…her body flattened slightly. His penis penetrated half way in…my daughter was no longer a virgin. She whimpered uncontrollably.

The bastard just kept humping; forcing his penis all the way in…Sara’s hymen broke, the obvious bloody discharge seeping between the thug’s penis and the folds of her vagina.

The whole time this was going on, the guy with his now three fingers shoved up in me was pushing them in and out of me while squeezing one breast in sequence with his finger thrusts.

Glancing at my son, he was staring at his sister as she was getting pummeled. I felt sorry for him…but…his shorts were sticking straight out. He had a hard on!

Worse yet…those fingers thrusting in and out of me were now four of them and my vagina was not offering much resistance. I was wet!

I quickly looked down at my husband…guilt streaking through me. He was still out cold.

The scene was surreal, broken only when the guy forcefully fornicating my daughter started grunting loudly. Grabbing her by the hips as he stabbed her hard with his rigid penis. He came in her…emptying himself with multiple convulsing movements.

Sara was just crying softly, she had no control.

The rapist pulled out, Sara’s vagina stretched open. A pinkish stream of liquid flowed out of her exposed hole.

Her attacker dragged a couple of fingers through the goop seeping from Sara’s vagina and displayed with pride the result, saying something in a language I did not understand. They all broke out in a laugh.

One guy now turned his attention towards me, making a step towards me while unbuckling his pants.

Oh shit…now it’s my turn…

But all of a sudden the door burst open and what apparently was a ringleader strolled in.

The guy fondling me immediately came out from behind me and the rest of them all formed a line.

The boss guy did a quick look at all of us and then walked to the table placing his hand under my whimpering daughter’s head slowly helping her stand up. A rivulet of cum and blood ran down her leg.

He looked at me and then said in perfect English, “I will personally apologize for my men…they are ignorant as to how to handle the spoils of war”.

He looked down at my husband and then ordered a couple of men to carry him out. That was thirteen months ago, we have not seen him since.

He then ordered the rest of the men out. I thought for a fleeting second that this man might have a shred of decency in him. That was not the case as I reached down to grab my nightdress he put his hand out.

“No need…I like women naked…both of you. Make me something to eat”. He ordered.

“But…” I started, but was met with anger coming from his eyes.

“You do what I say…no talking…just nod yes or no…do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Make me eggs” I nodded and went to the stove.

He then directed his attention to Sara, “Come here young woman” pointing to a spot right next to him.

She did so hesitantly.

“You too, no talking…understand?” Sara nodded.

Looking at the stream running down her leg, “You were a virgin…no?”

Sara nodded with a sad expression.

“Too bad…so sorry for you…but you cannot be one forever, and fortunately you are still ripe for your first conception”. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

Through all this my son still stood up against the wall without making a sound. It had been at least a couple of hours. Our “guest” now turned his attention to him.

“You must be the son…tell me your name, you can talk”

“John” my son hesitantly responded.

“Malek…you can call me Malek” he said as his hand rubbing softly on Sara’s naked butt cheek, “John…are you a virgin too? Like your sister was up until today?”

John shot a nervous look into my direction and then one at his sister who was being absentmindedly fondled by this guy called Malek. He lifted one of her breasts as if weighing it. Sara was cringing…

Do not know why, but my head snapped in John’s direction.

“Uh…uhm…yeah” John said almost embarrassingly.

Malek shook his head while squeezing my daughter’s breast as if he was checking the ripeness of an orange, then turned his head towards me as I placed a plate of food in front of him.

His eyes seemed liked tentacles as he eyed me from toe to chest then settling on my closely shorn pubic area. A smile…almost sinister spread across his face.

“John…with such fine opportunities so close to you…it is shame you have been deprived of loosing your virginity”, Malek gave my daughter’s breast another squeeze, patted her right ass cheek, and then dove into his food.

Sara started to back up…but Malek grabbed her hand and shook his head no.

He then pointed for me to go to the opposite side of the table from him, “go stand on the other side so I can watch your beautiful body”, he directed.

I did not take it as a compliment.

“John…stand in front of your mother…do as I say, or I will hurt your sister,” Malek went from command to a threatening tone.

John walked up to me, about a foot or so apart, his eyes casting fear and nervousness, yet he fought them from dropping to my exposed breasts.

My son had full sight of his completely nude mother; the moral dilemma was not lost on me. I felt ashamed, I felt guilt, and fear of how this will change forever my mother-son relationship. What happened next was a change that never crossed my mind in a million years.

“Mother…pull your son’s pants down” Malek directed. I hesitated…throwing a disgusting look Malek’s way.

“Do as I say, or your daughter will be squealing in pain” Malek now had her on his lap, his left arm around her, his hand squeezing her right breast. In his other hand, he had the fork he was eating with pressed against her protruding right nipple. The pain showing on her face confirmed the small drop of blood forming on the prong of the fork embedded in the side of her nipple.

I leaned forward and pulled John’s shorts down…his penis bobbed when it sprang free. I had not seen him naked since he was maybe seven years old, at least ten years ago. He was not a child anymore…at least not down there.

“John…feel your mother’s tits…good looking tits, yes?…do it!” Malek demanded.

I was flabbergasted…internally outraged at the thought. My body subconsciously leaned back away from John’s extending reach. Then I heard a painful moan from Sara…

I leaned forward, pressing my breasts into John’s hands.

“Feel them up John…” John squeezed them slightly, “no…no harder, like this.”

Malek now had both of Sara’s breasts, one in each hand, massaging them as if he was trying to milk her.

John’s hands began to copy Malek’s, only on me.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip…this cannot be happening; my son was massaging his mother’s breasts. This has to be a bad dream…but it wasn’t.

“John…tell me what they feel like…” Malek again demanded.

“Uh…uhmm…they are soft…but firm…warm…uhm” John was almost stuttering.

“Pull and twist the nipples…see if they can come out…like this”

My mouth dropped as Sara’s nipples were extended out from her areola’s well over half an inch as Malek rolled them between his thumbs and fingers.