Amanda felt herself dragged through the doorway and thrown to the floor. She screamed inside the bag they had thrown over her head as her injured arm struck the ground, sending new daggers of pain shooting up into her body.

“Clear the bed,” somebody yelled. There was the sound of clothes and solid object clattering to the floor as others rushed to comply. She tried to rise, but something, probably a foot, crashed into her midsection. She feel gasping. “Stay down, cunt!” a different voice snarled nearby.

“Okay, where’s the rope? Fuck, where is the rope!!?”

“Here, I've got it. Drag her over here.”

“Fuck she’s got a body!”

More hands seized her and hauled her across the room. Her hip struck something solid and then she was being rolled onto a single bed. The arm she had hurt in the helicopter crash was forced under her and she screamed again.

Hands grabbed her booted feet and yanked them apart. She struggled, trying to kick, but they were too many and stronger than her. They pulled her legs open brutally and somebody threw rope around her left ankle. In seconds it had been lashed down tight to the bed frame as she tried uselessly to fight back. Within a minute the other leg followed suit.

Amanda tried to calm down. She held her breath inside the black bag thrown over her head as she was pulled up by the shoulder. A hand grabbed her left breast and squeezed it under her uniform. There was a tug as the zip tied around her wrists was cut, but straight away more hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her back down, extending her arms back behind her head. She felt the bones in her right arm grinding inside her flesh and screamed through the gag in her mouth.

Finally she was tied down tight. Her captors seemed to grown quiet. The bed was not large and her elbows were bent so that her hands were tied next to her head. She could imagine them standing there looking down at her, laid out like a piece of meat.

“Take off the bag,” the one in charge said.

Somebody fumbled with the knot around her neck and then the bag was yanked off. Despite her pony tail her brown hair tumbled around her face as the light hit her eyes, making her blink.

When she could see properly she could make out half a dozen men standing near the foot of the bed, staring at her. Though men seemed almost an inappropriate description. Dressed in the ragged army surplus gear of the insurgents, the oldest could have been no more than twenty-three, the youngest eighteen. Most seemed to be in their early twenties, including the one standing closest, looking her up and down. He was clearly the leader, but he and his followers reminded Amanda less as soldiers and more as a pack of wild dogs.

The olive skinned fighters were gazing at her. Some were licking their lips. Amanda was too experienced a woman not to recognize the hunger in their eyes. Capturing any female was probably a dream for these young men, but a woman who was also a western soldier was no doubt a fantasy they stroked off to every night.

And now they had one – a woman, at five feet eight inches as tall as all but the tallest of them, her body honed to athletic grace thanks to genetics and army training. Her blue eyes stared up at them as she fought to control her breathing.

The leader walked up and looked her in the face as she stood over her. He reached down and touched the white band on her uniform sleeve with its red cross. “She’s a nurse,” one of the others said.

The leader pulled out a knife and held it up for her to see. She blinked, but didn't flinch. After a second he reached down and cut the medics band off, throwing it to the floor. “She shot at us after the crash. She’s the enemy.”

The others were looking at her, most of them with their eyes alternating between her face, breasts, and the space between her legs. Amanda had always been secretly pleased she was one of those women who didn't need a spray-coating of make-up to look attractive, which meant her captors were looking at a woman whom any of them would ache to get into their bed. The leader wet his lips, moving the knife towards her shirt. They had stripped off part of her uniform in the crash, so now all that was clothing her upper body was the olive green tank top and the bra underneath. His free hand pulled the shirt out and he thrust the knife through the material, yanking it upwards and slicing it open. His moves were eager, almost wild. In a few seconds he had torn the clothing apart and her B-cup breasts were on display in their grey sport’s bra.

“Oh fuck,” one of the youngest whispered.

“Keep your hands off me,” Amanda growled, pulling at the ropes. She knew her struggles were as useless as her words but could not just lie there and let his happen without trying something.

The leader looked at her and smirked. Reaching down he grabbed her left breast and squeezed it, playing with her flesh. “Or what, bitch?” he snarled. He dug his fingers in and she winced in pain.

The rest of the pack stood mesmerized, eyes wide and eager. Putting his knife under her bra strap he sawed it off, his moves slow despite his hands trembling with excitement. A born sadist this one, wanting to draw out her humiliation. Amanda looked away as he cut the other strap too, pulling her bra away so that her breasts with their dark pink nipples were revealed to the crowd.

“I'm a prisoner of war,” she said firmly, forcing her voice to be calm. “I demand to be treated accordingly.”

The insurgent wet his lips, looking at her breasts. He glanced up at her. His already brown eyes were darker still with lust and hate. “You will be, whore,” he told her.

She closed her eyes as he fumbled with her belt, trying to will her mind to some other place. She twisted when he started to pull her pants down but the others were happy to help hold her down. The knife completed what their hands could not, slicing and ripping. Amanda felt tears burning in her eyes as her regulation underwear were torn off by hand, letting the air of the room wash over her naked sex.

“I'm first,” the leader said. She heard him stand up and recognized the sound of him hastily pulling off his pants. The bed creaked as he leaned on it, his knees between her legs. Behind her eyelids she registered his body moving to shadow her and felt his legs pushing hers apart.

“Stop!”

He ignored her, and his hand was on her breast again, then his mouth – licking and sucking. She could feel his shaft pressing against her thigh, youthful hormones and wild excitement making it steel hard.

At the touch of his member Amanda went crazy, heaving and screaming to throw him off. Her broken arms blazed with agony, but the pain made her fight harder and she almost succeeded. But he shouted for the others to pin her down. When she kept screaming his fist struck her in the cheek, snapping her head around and making her see stars.

“You fucking western bitch!”

She blinked, looking up and seeing him staring down between their bodies. His own was wiry, all lean muscle and sinew. Fingers fumbled at her opening and she felt the head of his cock at her entrance. His put his hand to his mouth and spat, then shoved it down between her legs again, forcing her lips apart jamming his fingers into her.

“Stop,” Amanda sobbed.

Her despair seemed to heighten his excitement. He twisted his spit stained fingers inside her, a mockery of concern for her feelings. Her mons was usually shaved but her time in the desert had let some of her bush grow back and she felt his other fingers rubbing in it as he penetrated her. Finally he pulled out and pushed his cock forward again. His bulging glans nudged aside her out lips.

Amanda bit her lip. She could smell his sweat and those of the other boys. The sound of their panting was all around her.

The young rebel thrust, forcing himself deeper. Amanda screwed up her face. It hurt. He pushed again without withdrawing, battering his way inside her. His spit did little to lubricate her and it was like he was shoving a sandstone into her pussy. Balancing on his arms he pushed again, and then again. Little by little he forced himself deeper, her pussy being wedged open.

”Fuck…she’s tight…yes!” he growled, giving another surge with his hips that made her cry out.

His teeth bit into her shoulder as he started to fuck her steadily. Amanda looked up at the roof, but the young faces staring down at her with twisted happiness made her close her eyes again. Her body jerked to the rhythm of his hasty thrusts. Her pussy was burning. His tempo quickened as he crushed her long lovely body under his, her breasts crushed flat against his chest.

“Oh fuck…OH FUCK!”

She senses his climax building and her hands twisted in the ropes. Her injured arm screamed in protest and she cried out. He laughed. His fucking became harder, frantic, and then suddenly he stiffened on top of her and she felt his disgusting seed spurting inside her.

“AAAAAHHH! YES! YES!!!”

He pumped hard, emptying his load into her violated womanhood. He had not penetrated her as deep as he might and she felt the sticky fluid spilling from her opening almost immediately. With a final grunt he pulled out of her, more of his semen falling from his cock onto her belly and leg as he stood up.

“Who’s next?” he laughed, standing up and away from her.

Every voice shouted at once, and there was a brief struggle. The leader laughed, letting his followers sort out their sick pecking order. “You were good, bitch,” he said smiling at her. Amanda only glared at him in disgust. Still smiling, he grabbed her dog tags and yanked them off.