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Tales of a Hyper-sexual Spy

The Light, the Dark and the Trickster Trickster…Part 2

The Dark: The godammed fucking dark, maybe we shouldn’t go there…but it’s too late now I’ve been and if you keep reading you’re coming too, but you don’t have to keep reading…you can skip to the trickster trickster… the dark is a different place, a different time, I was a different man…ah my soul I was a different man…harder…colder…crazier.

It was a spring night in Helmand, Afghanistan. The constellations were out in spates. The tents of our army were lit by moonlight. It lit the walls and towers, the aerials and the smoke of the shit pit. But another kind of radiance lit my face, lit it like a fire insidious inside me, I knew a switch would come. But there wasn’t the smell of jasmine. Not this time.

There was a sandstorm up in the area of the nimbus clouds. It made the moon look like it had a halo. It looked like a good omen. Given what had happened it was perverse. I looked I tried to remember the light, the fleeting glimpses of heaven. But I no longer understood. The beauty of memory would’ve made me feeble. This was no place to be soft. No place for memory. This land, in this moment, belonged to the furies.

I think I’d bitch slapped the Afghan Commander. I think that’s what had happened, that’s why I had to bodyguard the doctor, but honestly my memory of those days is shot all to pieces. I don’t know what’s real and what I made up to fill in the gaps.

I remember a smell when I walked inside. It was ether. I was glad it was ether. Just hours earlier her tiny one room, two bed makeshift surgery had a very different smell. It had stunk of blood, of piss and shit. It had stunk of death. A smell that reeked into your lungs, I could still feel the horror, its icy fingers tried to claw my soul, but my soul had grown hard and distant. At least the smell and the mess had gone. That was good at least. The hard distance of my soul kept me sane, safe from the mental pain. I was glad of the ether.

It was a joke job to guard the doctor; I just locked the door to her surgery and leaned my rifle against the wall. I lit a cigarette and sat on plastic flooring in the corner.

“You can’t smoke in here.”

“Fuck off,” I told her. The desert night is chilly at that time of year and I was warming my hands.

“That’s fuck off, M’aam,” she said trying to assert authority. She was a Captain.

I looked in her eyes for the first time. They were green, greener than snakeskin. I saw she was younger than me, not by much. It didn’t matter; we were both a lot older than we’d been that morning.

“Fuck off.”

“Bastard,” she glared at me, I glared back and after a second I saw her mask crack. She had the face of a terrified child. Tears began to pour from her eyes, but no sound came from her mouth.

“Sit down,” I told her. She did as I said; I put the cigarette in her mouth and lit another.

“I don’t smoke,” she said smoking. I put an arm round her.

“It’ll take the edge off.”

She tried to calm herself down but…well just but…I couldn’t blame her. She began to shake, and tried to stifle her sobs. The horror was taking her. The gore… the war…we were in the grip of its maw.

I held her tighter; it wouldn’t do for the young soldiers or the Afghans to hear her cry. She seemed to be snapping out of it, I was whispering to her, stroking her hair. She was coming back, but then it was the wails of the women, in the village that lived in the shadow of the base. The wails of the women wept over us. How they wept. Something inside the doctor broke in that moment. She pulled back from me, and her face was like nothing I’d seen.

“Need something,” she said as she stood. It looked like she could barely walk. She stumbled to the medicine shelf. The last thing we needed was a doctor high off her own supply.

“Fucking stop it.” I went after her and knocked her arms away from the shelf.

“I need something!” She was losing it. She placed her hands on her ears then took them off again. “I fucking need something. Make them shut the fuck up.” She looked at me in her half mad blue eyes and grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt.

We were kissing. I don’t know how it happened; it was faster than…than I could think.

Her mouth was like fire, the skin of her arms tanned and bitten by insects. She tasted of cherry lip balm. But sweat, cigarette smoke and ether hung on the air. Her blonde hair tickled my neck. This wasn’t going to last long. This was just a fuck nothing more.

The wails wept louder and the doctor became more frantic, almost forcing my hand down her trousers and over her dry pussy.

“Let it out,” I told her. She did. She was wetter quicker than any woman I’ve known. Fast almost as quickly as a man gets hard, almost. Maybe, I don’t know, I don’t remember. It was like a dam had welled up and burst. Like when her mask cracked when she’d started crying.

“Give it to me!” She said too loudly.

“Everything okay in there?” A voice asked from outside. Shit! We’d been caught.

“Fine,” the doctor answered.

“So long as you’re sure.”

“I’m certain Sergeant.” It was bullshit, a madness had hold of her, I didn’t know if she’d ever be okay.

Quiet as a mouse now she bent over an operating table. Under the sound of the wails you could hear men march by in their jackboots. The thought they were just a metre or two away, thrilled me, filled me with edginess that I’d never felt before. It would just be like them to have their ears against the wall listening, desperate for a hint of sex, the loneliness of men at war.

I pulled down her knickers, they were pink and had teddy bears on. I couldn’t believe the stupidity and inappropriateness of them. I slid inside her gently. She had a great arse. For the first time that day I took pleasure in something. The warm wetness against my hardness, I felt almost human.

“Is that the best you can do?”

Right I thought. Fuck being kind. Fuck being human. I pinned her face to the operating table with my elbow and pummelled her hard. I leaned into her, with my elbow and with my body, my balls slapping into her thighs.

I didn’t last long and to be honest I didn’t care. I just came hard inside her. Well before she was close.

“Are you kidding?” She asked.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I asked in quiet fury.

“I told you I need something,” she covered her ears again, bottom half naked, cum dripping down her thigh. It was the wails weeping over the camp; she couldn’t deal with it. “I need something,” she headed for the door and put her hand on the bolt, still half naked.

“Stop it, you crazy bitch.” I grabbed her back for her own sake.

“I need something.”

“Fine.” I said. She cocked her head as though she was curious. I dragged her across the room and used the zip tie from an arrest kit to cuff her to the rifle rack.

“I need something.” I was sick of hearing that. Lord knows how many people could hear her. I gagged her with her stupid pants and looked for something to fuck her with.

It dawned on me pretty quickly what I should use. I still don’t know why I did it. Maybe my mind was gone.

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I unholstered the pistol from her trousers on the floor. It was a Sig Sauer, a 9mm, capable of accurate and deadly fire up to fifty metres. Its black barrel was freezing cold; the temperature was near zero now. I looked at her and the crazy bitch opened her legs wider.

I traced the fully loaded weapon up her thigh, I rubbed it in the cum that had spattered there. I wiped it on her face. Her eyes opened a little wider, so did her legs. Her cunt still wide from fucking me, the pistol slid in a lot easier than I thought possible. You could hear her gasp through her gag. Men marched by again. Their jackboots pounding the sand, I fucked her with her own weapon.

Slow at first…then harder…faster…deeper. It seemed to go on for a long time. I fucked her and her eyes got wider. But the wails of the women seemed to weep louder. The louder they got the harder I fucked her with it. I thought it was true domination, true dominion over her body. But when I looked into her eyes I knew it wasn’t.

“Need something,” she muffled from under her gag. The truth about extreme domination is it’s only real when you don’t know if the sub will die, otherwise it’s just a game. I knew what she needed and now it terrifies me. then, I don’t know, I was lost to my own darkness and my memory of those days is shot. I guess we all seek someone whose demons play well with ours.

I flicked the safety off and put my finger over the trigger, I fucked her with it. She shook like a leaf on an autumn tree. The wails grew louder. The doctor shook uncontrollably, making it more and more dangerous. Until at last she let out a sigh, and gingerly I pulled the pistol away. I ungagged her.

“You okay now?” I asked her. She nodded her head.

“Let me out.” I cut her bonds with scissors and watched her cautiously as she dressed herself.

“Thank you. That will be all.”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“You’re the new intelligence guy aren’t you?” she asked. I nodded. “Welcome to Helmand.” She shook my hand. It was odd to say the least. “Find them. Track the men that did this and kill them all.”

“Crazy bitch”, I thought. “I’m not killing anyone unless it’s legal.” Then I remember the faces of those they murdered. If I trick them to battle, that would make it legal. “Yeah,” I think, “I’ll make it legal. ” I’m gone, I’ve switched. I crick my neck ready for war. Inside me a thunder, a tempest, I am become one of the furies, a man of war. I won’t remember hardly any of it, my mind plays tricks. It plays tricks on me you see.

More about the Trickster Trickster tomorrow xxx

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This entry was posted on December 15, 2014 by in bdsm, desire, erotica, sex, War and tagged , , , , , , , , , .
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