to get kicked by our mule!” He opened his fly, pulled out his penis, and growled, “Now I’ll teach you to dance, Billings!”
Laura struggled, but the men held her firm. The two holding her ankles walked outward and spread her legs as wide as they could, and Wagner drove himself into her. She tried to scream, but she could barely breathe, and the panties muffled any sound she made. Oh, god, please, Brian, come back to check on me! Wagner continued to pound into her, and the pain was excruciating.
When he was finally finished, he said, “Here, Brewster. Give me that arm and you take your turn!” The men swapped places, and Brewster freed his penis and pounded into her just as Wagner had. Laura’s mind spun out of control, and the pain was so unbearable she hoped she’d lose consciousness. Just as she thought she might actually go out, Brewster finished and swapped out with Taylor, and the process continued.
Laura could hear them laughing, making comments about how tight she was, how her breasts looked, how good it felt to take her, but she felt like she was somewhere else, hearing them from a distance. She felt the pain, but it was dulled somehow, and she felt her body being bumped up and down by their activity. It seemed to go on forever, days and days, and she just floated, feeling completely disconnected from what they were doing to her body.
When they’d all had a turn, Wagner started in on her again, and she wondered if he’d ever finish. Just as she thought he might be done, he did something she never expected: He started to stroke her clitoris, trying to make her have an orgasm. Even though she didn’t want to, her body responded, and her hips started to buck of their own accord. She hadn’t felt shame until that moment, but suddenly she felt as though she was an accomplice in her own rape, somehow responsible for it. Charles had been the only man who’d ever done that with her, and when her body convulsed and the orgasm hit, it felt like Charles and all the love and tenderness he’d ever given her had been ripped from her.
“See? You liked it, slut!” Wagner snarled, continuing to rub her until the spasms were unendurable. “Now, you listen to me and listen good. You tell anyone, anyone, what just happened here and you’ll die. You hear me? You’ll be dead before your tongue can wag.” He pulled the underwear from her mouth and asked, “You gonna scream?” Laura was too afraid and too exhausted to make a sound. “That’s what I thought – liked it too much to tell, didn’t you? Hey, maybe we’ll be back!” He turned to the other men. “You can turn her loose now. She’s not gonna do anything, are you, cunt? Let’s go play some poker!” They started out the door, but before they left, one of the men pinched one of Laura’s nipples hard and said, “Nice lay, bitch. Nail ya later!” Another slapped her mound and said, “Can’t wait to fuck you again, sweetheart.” They left her quarters like a bunch of friends walking out of the local bar after a night of playing darts.
Laura lay on her bunk, afraid to move, wondering what she’d find when she looked down at herself. She expected to somehow look damaged and wounded, but when she finally worked up the courage to look, she found she looked pretty much normal, except there was blood on the insides of her thighs. When she finally stood, a tiny trickle of blood made its way down the inside of one thigh. She grabbed her robe and headed to the showers.
There wasn’t enough soap made to wash them off of her, but she tried – god, she tried. While she was in the shower, she ran her fingers up inside herself and the pain was so bad that she couldn’t stand it. She didn’t know what to do. If she went to the medics, they’d ask her what had happened. What would she tell them? No way could she tell them the truth. Wagner would kill her.
By the time she left the shower, she’d devised a plan. She went to the medics’ tent and
Janwillem van de Wetering