6/X

Pain, the pilot would accept. Embrace it, even. He has fought, after all, as hard as he’s could. Screamed and trashed and given his all to not submit or co-operate. He’d welcome a bash to the head now, to be lulled to the darkness while these bastards do what they’ve set themselves to do. But there’s no bash, no darkness, and no end to this humiliation. The mean-looking Yankee wraps his gloved hand around the pilot’s neck, not hard enough to choke him out completely, but still enough to keep his head down. And then the bastard leans down, just out of the reach of the pilot’s teeth, and whispers:
”I’ll fuck you slow and sweet, until you scream, like the ladies do. And then, I’ll fuck you harder.”
A tongue runs along the pilot’s ear and he shivers, letting out a muffled groan. His throat burns and his eyes sting, and he feels like being sick again, but there isn’t much left is his stomach. The Yankee looks at his brothers in arms and grins.
”Anyone got cuffs? Ah, I knew I could trust you, Jones!”
The soldier, going by the name of Jones, steps off the pilot’s ankle and flips a pair of handcuffs open. The pilot’s leg swings free and he aims a swift kick at the man in the shin. The Jones bastard kicks him between his legs to retaliate, and the pilot’s vision goes blank. The kick knocks the wind out of him and his muscles clench, but he can’t even curl up. He lets out a little whine, trying to get air back to his lungs, as the pain starts to radiate along his fibers like a flare. The Yankee bastards take their chance, twisting his arms above his head and cuffing his wrists. Fools, as if simple cuffs would…
”Not so fast, Nazi faggot”, the mean-looking one hisses and strikes the pilot in his left palm, hard. His hand is so numb from being crushed against the floor that the extent of the pain takes a while to register. He tries to rip his hand free - and that’s when it hits him. A white-hot flash runs through his arm and he screams. There is a knife sticking out of his palm, nailing his cuffed hands to the floor above his head. He screams so hard his ears start to ring, cries and curses and spits, and the Yankees around him laugh. The mean-looking one grabs his wet trousers and yanks them down to his knees with the belt still unbuckled.
”You’re up for the ride of your life, bitch”, he growls, fumbling to pull down the pilot’s underwear.
”Are you guys seeing this?! He’s got the ass of a fucking dame. Hell, who’d have guessed the Nazi dog would hide this in his pants.”
The pilot’s ass is pinched hard, and the Yankee grabs it, hard enough to leave bruises. The man gets up and grabs his ankles, assisted by the huge soldier nearby. All the trashing and kicking is futile, helping the situation none, but tearing the pilot’s palm further, making it pulsate with pain. He’s bent to a humiliating position, his white ass up in the air and his knees bent towards his shoulders, and these bastards, the huge soldier and the fucker Jones, are holding his legs in place.
”What a fucking sight to behold. Nothing better than conquered enemy territory, am I right boys?!” the mean-looking Yankee chuckles and pinches the soft flesh of the pilot’s ass again. The others laugh, and the bastard spreads him on display.
”Such a pristine fuckhole, so tight and pink…  Bet you wouldn’t be this neat if your own guys used you too. First time, Rauser?”
The pilot feels a sob going through his chest, but can’t stop it. A wail escapes his lips and tears start to stream down his cheeks.
”Wait… Your first first time?” the Yankee bastard above him asks slowly, grinning.
”Are you a fucking virgin?! He’s a fucking virgin, guys!”
Sobs are rattling the pilot’s  body and his pale cheeks flush red from shame. He grits his teeth and shakes his head. The Yankee’s fingers dig into the white skin of his ass and spread him as the man spits on his quivering hole.
”As if you’d count, Yankee bastard”, the pilot hisses.
”Am I dreaming?! I get to be the one who deflowers the Rauser?!”
The man shoves two fingers inside the pilot’s ass experimentally. He clenches down hard, tightening around the intrusion and letting out a wet sob, but the bastard just laughs, delighted.
”Such a tight little  virgin hole… Too bad it’ll be ruined after this”, the Yankee murmurs and lines himself up for the intrusion. He pushes against the pilot’s rim, grabs him by the hips, and starts forcing himself inside. The pilot screams, the burning pain searing his body like a smoldering coal in his insides.
”Oh, Rauser… You’re such a filthy little virgin, grabbing my cock like that. He loves it! You love it, don’t you?! Fuck, I can hardly move!”
The pilot’s insides are on fire, the contracting pain exploding in his pelvis. He whines, trying to catch his breath, but the bastard just drives himself further, pounding into a knot of pain that makes the pilot see stars.
”You won’t close back up when we’re done with you”, the Yankee growls, grabbing the pilot’s hips tighter and burying himself all the way inside.
”You’ll be left with a sloppy, loose hole that won’t clench back up, you know that?”
”That’s… That’s not true”, the pilot sobs. A whole new kind of pain is blooming up inside him where the Yankee keeps stabbing him. It makes jolts of electricity run through his legs and takes his breath away.
”Hmm, but it sure is. You’ll end up with a loose, bleeding wound, like a common whore. Why did you think the ladies have to… wear a rag under their clothes?” The man groans and pauses for a breather. The pilot starts to trash again, but his struggle is no good, besides driving the Yankee’s cock deeper inside him and stabbing him with a fresh wave of odd, throbbing pain. There is something wrong inside him. Maybe something is broken? Maybe the Yankee is right and his body is indeed ruined somehow? A tremor runs through his body and his muscles tighten, clenching around the invading cock, and the Yankee grunts with pleasure.
”Fuck, you’re good.”
The man drops his taunts and starts driving himself into the pilot’s resisting body again and again. A fresh burst of sharp pain hits, as the pilot feels something tearing. Suddenly, the motion is getting easier. The thrusts gets slicker, and he realizes he must be bleeding. Each stab hits something inside him, something much more sore than the tear, and the pilot’s eyes widen with terror. He can barely comprehend the paralyzing sensation, it’s lighting up all his nerves and making his limbs incredibly numb and light. Breath gets stuck in his chest, he can barely inhale at all. The pilot whines, squeezing his right hand into a fist. His back arches against his will, the only thing keeping him in his humiliating position being the Yankee bastard that holds his hips like a vise.
The feeling grows so intense the pilot wonders if he’s about to die. His chest constricts, his vision blurs, and the pain is so bad it’s almost good. He hopes this means he’s dying. It must, he can barely follow what’s happening in his surrounding any more…
”Well look at that”, the Yankee pants, cupping the pilot’s face in a mockery of a caress, and laughs breathlessly.
”He likes it so much he’s about to lose it. The Nazi bitch in heat...” He digs his nails into the pilot’s hip, hard enough to draw blood, and runs his other hand over the pilot’s belly. Then he stops, raising his brow in surprise and delight.
”Well I’ll be damned… I can fucking feel myself through his insides! How sick is that?!” The Yankee squeezes down on the pilot’s lean belly and starts thrusting against the grasp violently. The pilot feels it too, his soft insides giving in into the intrusion and the Yankee’s cock stabbing against his belly from the inside. It feels so wrong, so unnatural that he starts to scream again and trash against the hold. The Yankee grunts, eyes screwing shut, and buries himself to the hilt inside the pilot’s struggling body. A sickly heat spreads inside him and, suddenly, the assault stops.
”Well aren’t you good… Too good for your own good”, the Yankee mutters and withdraws. His cock slips out, and a stream gushes out. The pilot gasps. There’s… The Yankee… The bastard spilled it inside him, and he can feel it splashing against his guts.
”No! No! I want it out, don’t leave it inside me...” he sobs, unable to curl up around the sickly feeling that’s creeping in his belly.