Captive
Chapter 3
While 1stLt. Duska Anderson, United States Marine Corps, sits in the cabin, chewing on some bread, Mohammed is making arrangements to go to shore and bring Duska with him. He will get another appraisal of her after she’s healed a bit more in a few days.
Coming into the cabin, Mohammed enters with two of his men loosely carrying AK-74 rifles. They are greeted by Duska sitting on cot wrapped in a simple sheet. She looks up at him defiantly as she’s wondering what her options are. It’s her duty to escape when the chance presents itself especially a black belt such as herself in the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program.
She considers she could take out the skinny Somalis and disarm them, but then what? There’s the rest of the crew to deal with then, so she’ll just bide her time for now.
“Lieutenant, take that sheet off now!” Mohammed commands. When she balks, he walks over to her and tears the sheet away from her, leaving her once again naked before the Somali men.
The Somali men grin and laugh to themselves; their teeth stained by years of khat chewing and just plain bad hygiene.
“My men are curious why I have not fucked you yet,” Mohammed smiled, looking at his comrades.
Mohammed motions for his men to take Duska and hold her down on the cot, spreading her legs for their leader’s access.
“Stay away from me you fucker!” Duska screams.
One of the men shoves a dirty rag into mouth to silent her.
“Lieutenant. Remember you should be nice to me. And since you’ve already had 10 Somali men in you, what’s one more?” he asks as he drops his pants to the floor.
Duska looks at him in wide-eyed amazement at the black cock of Mohammed’s. 10 inches of Somali black cock was coming for her and she was helpless to prevent it.
Mohammed lays on top of her and he takes a knife to her throat. “Be nice,” is all he says as he spits on his Somali cock and once more on the blonde-haired pussy of Duska’s.
Pushing his cock into the white Marine’s pussy, Duska screams in pain from the invasion of another cock into her vagina which is still raw from the assaults by the Somali pirate crew just a few hours ago.
Once the black cock entered her cunt, Duska stopped fighting, and surrendered to Mohammed, much to his satisfaction… she realized her options were nil and just wants to get this ordeal over with.
Mohammed’s men stopped holding her arms and legs and stepped back to watch their leader fuck away at the American’s pussy.
Duska can only lay there as she looks defiantly at Mohammed which excites him even more as he feels his nut swelling up with each thrust into his new captive.
Looking at his men, he say’s in Somali, “She’s mine now!” as his cock begins to spew gobs of Somali semen into Duska’s womb.
Having finished his deed, Mohammed withdraws from the blonde woman’s pussy trailing b-lood and semen. He moves up to Duska’s face and wipes his cum covered cock across her face, leaving her with his seed and her b-lood to dry.
For Duska’s part, what spirit she had left, was taken away from her by Mohammed’s assault as she lays there on the cot, and Mohammed’s cum seeping from her pussy, soiling the cot even more.
Dressing, Mohammed takes one more look at Duska as she lays there motionless. He directs his men to follow him out of the cabin and in so doing, commanded the steward to get the captive cleaned up and find her a suitable wrap to wear as well as a veil and scarf for her face and head which she’s to wear when they get back to Mogadishu.
Meanwhile, Mohammed’s crew is readying their boat to return to shore. He tells two of his men to bring the captive to the boat and get ready to get underway.
The men arrive just as the steward is showing Duska how to wear the wrap, veil and scarf. Duska just looks at her blankly, then watches the Somali men stand her up and put a fresh set of flex-cuffs on her wrists. They then lead her down to the plank that leads to the pirate boat.
Mohammed is there to see Duska embark and the two men with her push her down onto a heap of tarps, where Duska curls up into a f-etal position.
The pirate boat pushes away from the mom ship to make the two-hour transit to a port outside of Mogadishu.
Mohammed is once again considering Duska’s fate. Should he keep her for himself or make her available on the slave market? He decides he’ll keep her long enough for her wounds to heal which should help get him top price for such a beautiful, fit white woman.
Arriving at the port, Mohammed goes to where Duska is laying asleep. He kicks one of her feet and Duska tries to stand up in alarm, taking a moment to orient herself to the environment. To her dismay, she thought the whole episode with the pirates was only a bad dream.
“Put your veil and scarf on, Lieutenant,” Mohammed commands.
Fumbling with the unfamiliar garb, Duska puts them on as best as she can with her wrists bound.
A bus arrives to take the crew to Mohammed’s family compound on the outskirts of Mogadishu, and Duska’s new imprisonment.
Pirating has been very profitable for Mohammed and his family’s enterprise. The lavish compound provides housing for his crew and a warehouse to store the loot they are able to obtain from rich European yachts and commercial cargo ships.
There are also other quarters built into the warehouse designed for the human trafficking trade that has also been a lucrative sidelight to pirating. The quarters are more of a holding cell with a cot and a 5 gallon can for a toilet, and chains built into the walls if the new captives require restraint as they transition from spoiled socialites and bimbos to the property of a rich Somali warlord, rich Arab or affluent merchant.
In Duska’s case, Mohammed decides to take a different tact as he instructs his housekeepers to take Duska to one of the suites in the main residence. He tells his second in command to post a guard around the clock outside of Duska’s suite, and to check on her every 15 minutes, and they are forbidden to touch her as he’s trying to get her battered body back to health for the impending auction.
The housekeepers are a pair of younger Somali women, much the same age as Duska, and they are excited to dote on this Anglo. They get her a bath ready and some fresh clothes, and bring a platter of fruits and water, and some khat to help her with the pain.
The warm bath water is soothing to Duska and it helps bring her out of her funk enough to evaluate her new predicament. The two housekeepers stay close to her, and whisper between themselves about Duska’s body. They’ve seen white captives before as they are brought to the compound to be held until auction, but never interacted with them like they are with Duska.
They marvel at her sun-tanned, muscular female body, her blue eyes and blonde hair and pussy. They don’t speak English but motion for her to towel off and follow them to the bedroom where they have laid out some western clothing, a simple dress and sandals, and a bright colored scarf for her head.
The two Somali women can’t help but to not touch Duska’s hair and skin, all the while smiling and giggling like Duska was some kind of rock star.
All of their attention is making Duska feel better about her circumstances and invites the housekeepers to sit with her and they do their best to communicate.
“My name is Duska,” she tells them pointing to herself. The Somali women understand and they both tell her their names are Aminah and Faduma with big smiles all around.
Aminah and Faduma excuse themselves as they have other tasks, and Duska thinks they are saying they will be back later to check on her. As they leave, she hears a noticeable click on the door as its being locked, leaving Duska by herself.
She grabs a piece of fruit and a bottle of warm water, realizing she hasn’t eaten or d-runk anything since last night on the MV Idaho which reminds her she is really hungry and thirsty.
She wonders if the MV Idaho is aware that she is no longer aboard. She’s sure once they realize that she’s gone they will go into man overboard alert and bring the US Navy up to speed that one of their Naval officers is missing.
She walks over to a window to look outside and the view was dismal. Dirty, smudged windows couldn’t cover the fact that she really is in Somalia.
The view outside was of a makeshift shooting range adjoined by some kind of orchard. There were Somali men loitering about and Duska begins to consider if any of them had fucked and assaulted her last night.
“Those fuckers will pay,” Duska says to herself as she is feeling the growing hatred for the pirates and this godforsaken country.
Duska hears a commotion outside and she sees a cargo truck pull up to the warehouse to her right. A group of Somali men surround the truck and open the back to climb inside.
Seconds later, two middle-aged white men and one woman are pushed out and land on the dusty ground in a big cloud. They are stood up by the Somali men and hustled into the warehouse.
Duska then watches as the men in the truck have a younger woman by the waist dropping her to the waiting arms of the group of men. She was blonde like Duska but more petite. She was wearing only a bikini top and shorts as the men passed her around laughing and yelling obscenities in Somali.
The scene below her is making Duska’s b-lood boil. The Marine in her wants to jump off the balcony and kick those skinny fuckers’ asses, but right now she’s not in good condition for that. Give it a couple weeks and I’ll be back 100% she tells herself.
The Somalis take the young woman into the warehouse and the remaining men start to the unload the truck of what appears to be property belonging to those people, probably hijacked on their yacht while on holiday, she assumes.
While Duska was watching the events below unfolding, she didn’t hear the door open behind her, but she sensed someone was there and she spins around to see Mohammed and two of his armed men standing in the doorway. The men are pointing their weapons at Duska, convincing her not to make a move.
“Ah, Lieutenant, I see you’ve just witnessed a transfer of property from some foolish European trash to me,” Mohammed smirked to Duska.
“What do you have planned for me, asshole?” Duska sneered back.
“Remember what I told you back at the mom ship; be nice,” Mohammed replied. He continued, “the only thing standing between you and the slave market is me. You can enjoy my hospitality or can find yourself as a sex whore for some perverted Arab. Your choice, Lieutenant.”
After a very long pause, Mohammed says, “I came to invite you to dinner and listen to a proposition I have for you. Aminah will be by shortly to bring you down to the dining room.”
Mohammed turns to leave with his two men, locking the door again leaving Duska to mull what Mohammed meant by a proposition.
----- To be continued.
Chapter 3
While 1stLt. Duska Anderson, United States Marine Corps, sits in the cabin, chewing on some bread, Mohammed is making arrangements to go to shore and bring Duska with him. He will get another appraisal of her after she’s healed a bit more in a few days.
Coming into the cabin, Mohammed enters with two of his men loosely carrying AK-74 rifles. They are greeted by Duska sitting on cot wrapped in a simple sheet. She looks up at him defiantly as she’s wondering what her options are. It’s her duty to escape when the chance presents itself especially a black belt such as herself in the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program.
She considers she could take out the skinny Somalis and disarm them, but then what? There’s the rest of the crew to deal with then, so she’ll just bide her time for now.
“Lieutenant, take that sheet off now!” Mohammed commands. When she balks, he walks over to her and tears the sheet away from her, leaving her once again naked before the Somali men.
The Somali men grin and laugh to themselves; their teeth stained by years of khat chewing and just plain bad hygiene.
“My men are curious why I have not fucked you yet,” Mohammed smiled, looking at his comrades.
Mohammed motions for his men to take Duska and hold her down on the cot, spreading her legs for their leader’s access.
“Stay away from me you fucker!” Duska screams.
One of the men shoves a dirty rag into mouth to silent her.
“Lieutenant. Remember you should be nice to me. And since you’ve already had 10 Somali men in you, what’s one more?” he asks as he drops his pants to the floor.
Duska looks at him in wide-eyed amazement at the black cock of Mohammed’s. 10 inches of Somali black cock was coming for her and she was helpless to prevent it.
Mohammed lays on top of her and he takes a knife to her throat. “Be nice,” is all he says as he spits on his Somali cock and once more on the blonde-haired pussy of Duska’s.
Pushing his cock into the white Marine’s pussy, Duska screams in pain from the invasion of another cock into her vagina which is still raw from the assaults by the Somali pirate crew just a few hours ago.
Once the black cock entered her cunt, Duska stopped fighting, and surrendered to Mohammed, much to his satisfaction… she realized her options were nil and just wants to get this ordeal over with.
Mohammed’s men stopped holding her arms and legs and stepped back to watch their leader fuck away at the American’s pussy.
Duska can only lay there as she looks defiantly at Mohammed which excites him even more as he feels his nut swelling up with each thrust into his new captive.
Looking at his men, he say’s in Somali, “She’s mine now!” as his cock begins to spew gobs of Somali semen into Duska’s womb.
Having finished his deed, Mohammed withdraws from the blonde woman’s pussy trailing b-lood and semen. He moves up to Duska’s face and wipes his cum covered cock across her face, leaving her with his seed and her b-lood to dry.
For Duska’s part, what spirit she had left, was taken away from her by Mohammed’s assault as she lays there on the cot, and Mohammed’s cum seeping from her pussy, soiling the cot even more.
Dressing, Mohammed takes one more look at Duska as she lays there motionless. He directs his men to follow him out of the cabin and in so doing, commanded the steward to get the captive cleaned up and find her a suitable wrap to wear as well as a veil and scarf for her face and head which she’s to wear when they get back to Mogadishu.
Meanwhile, Mohammed’s crew is readying their boat to return to shore. He tells two of his men to bring the captive to the boat and get ready to get underway.
The men arrive just as the steward is showing Duska how to wear the wrap, veil and scarf. Duska just looks at her blankly, then watches the Somali men stand her up and put a fresh set of flex-cuffs on her wrists. They then lead her down to the plank that leads to the pirate boat.
Mohammed is there to see Duska embark and the two men with her push her down onto a heap of tarps, where Duska curls up into a f-etal position.
The pirate boat pushes away from the mom ship to make the two-hour transit to a port outside of Mogadishu.
Mohammed is once again considering Duska’s fate. Should he keep her for himself or make her available on the slave market? He decides he’ll keep her long enough for her wounds to heal which should help get him top price for such a beautiful, fit white woman.
Arriving at the port, Mohammed goes to where Duska is laying asleep. He kicks one of her feet and Duska tries to stand up in alarm, taking a moment to orient herself to the environment. To her dismay, she thought the whole episode with the pirates was only a bad dream.
“Put your veil and scarf on, Lieutenant,” Mohammed commands.
Fumbling with the unfamiliar garb, Duska puts them on as best as she can with her wrists bound.
A bus arrives to take the crew to Mohammed’s family compound on the outskirts of Mogadishu, and Duska’s new imprisonment.
Pirating has been very profitable for Mohammed and his family’s enterprise. The lavish compound provides housing for his crew and a warehouse to store the loot they are able to obtain from rich European yachts and commercial cargo ships.
There are also other quarters built into the warehouse designed for the human trafficking trade that has also been a lucrative sidelight to pirating. The quarters are more of a holding cell with a cot and a 5 gallon can for a toilet, and chains built into the walls if the new captives require restraint as they transition from spoiled socialites and bimbos to the property of a rich Somali warlord, rich Arab or affluent merchant.
In Duska’s case, Mohammed decides to take a different tact as he instructs his housekeepers to take Duska to one of the suites in the main residence. He tells his second in command to post a guard around the clock outside of Duska’s suite, and to check on her every 15 minutes, and they are forbidden to touch her as he’s trying to get her battered body back to health for the impending auction.
The housekeepers are a pair of younger Somali women, much the same age as Duska, and they are excited to dote on this Anglo. They get her a bath ready and some fresh clothes, and bring a platter of fruits and water, and some khat to help her with the pain.
The warm bath water is soothing to Duska and it helps bring her out of her funk enough to evaluate her new predicament. The two housekeepers stay close to her, and whisper between themselves about Duska’s body. They’ve seen white captives before as they are brought to the compound to be held until auction, but never interacted with them like they are with Duska.
They marvel at her sun-tanned, muscular female body, her blue eyes and blonde hair and pussy. They don’t speak English but motion for her to towel off and follow them to the bedroom where they have laid out some western clothing, a simple dress and sandals, and a bright colored scarf for her head.
The two Somali women can’t help but to not touch Duska’s hair and skin, all the while smiling and giggling like Duska was some kind of rock star.
All of their attention is making Duska feel better about her circumstances and invites the housekeepers to sit with her and they do their best to communicate.
“My name is Duska,” she tells them pointing to herself. The Somali women understand and they both tell her their names are Aminah and Faduma with big smiles all around.
Aminah and Faduma excuse themselves as they have other tasks, and Duska thinks they are saying they will be back later to check on her. As they leave, she hears a noticeable click on the door as its being locked, leaving Duska by herself.
She grabs a piece of fruit and a bottle of warm water, realizing she hasn’t eaten or d-runk anything since last night on the MV Idaho which reminds her she is really hungry and thirsty.
She wonders if the MV Idaho is aware that she is no longer aboard. She’s sure once they realize that she’s gone they will go into man overboard alert and bring the US Navy up to speed that one of their Naval officers is missing.
She walks over to a window to look outside and the view was dismal. Dirty, smudged windows couldn’t cover the fact that she really is in Somalia.
The view outside was of a makeshift shooting range adjoined by some kind of orchard. There were Somali men loitering about and Duska begins to consider if any of them had fucked and assaulted her last night.
“Those fuckers will pay,” Duska says to herself as she is feeling the growing hatred for the pirates and this godforsaken country.
Duska hears a commotion outside and she sees a cargo truck pull up to the warehouse to her right. A group of Somali men surround the truck and open the back to climb inside.
Seconds later, two middle-aged white men and one woman are pushed out and land on the dusty ground in a big cloud. They are stood up by the Somali men and hustled into the warehouse.
Duska then watches as the men in the truck have a younger woman by the waist dropping her to the waiting arms of the group of men. She was blonde like Duska but more petite. She was wearing only a bikini top and shorts as the men passed her around laughing and yelling obscenities in Somali.
The scene below her is making Duska’s b-lood boil. The Marine in her wants to jump off the balcony and kick those skinny fuckers’ asses, but right now she’s not in good condition for that. Give it a couple weeks and I’ll be back 100% she tells herself.
The Somalis take the young woman into the warehouse and the remaining men start to the unload the truck of what appears to be property belonging to those people, probably hijacked on their yacht while on holiday, she assumes.
While Duska was watching the events below unfolding, she didn’t hear the door open behind her, but she sensed someone was there and she spins around to see Mohammed and two of his armed men standing in the doorway. The men are pointing their weapons at Duska, convincing her not to make a move.
“Ah, Lieutenant, I see you’ve just witnessed a transfer of property from some foolish European trash to me,” Mohammed smirked to Duska.
“What do you have planned for me, asshole?” Duska sneered back.
“Remember what I told you back at the mom ship; be nice,” Mohammed replied. He continued, “the only thing standing between you and the slave market is me. You can enjoy my hospitality or can find yourself as a sex whore for some perverted Arab. Your choice, Lieutenant.”
After a very long pause, Mohammed says, “I came to invite you to dinner and listen to a proposition I have for you. Aminah will be by shortly to bring you down to the dining room.”
Mohammed turns to leave with his two men, locking the door again leaving Duska to mull what Mohammed meant by a proposition.
----- To be continued.
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