Perverts 'R' Us

Debt of Honor - Part 1

By Loki925 ( M/F )

This story is pure fiction and does not resemble anyone or anything in reality, whatever that is.

This would be Captain Vic Harden's last special operations mission. He could have been a full bird colonel by now, but that would mean he would have to sit on his ass and read mission reports instead of blowing up shit.

He was 6'3" tall and 192 lbs. of solid muscle. He had short brown hair and piercing, deep brown eyes. He was a combat marshal arts expert. He was a true modern spec-ops warrior, a specter. In his twenty years of service, he had received numerous awards and decorations, which meant little to him.

For with almost each award there was the name of a young dead solder. This and the death of his mother, father, and sister in a freakish gas leak and explosion had made Vic a cynic who believed in little but himself and the men under his command.

Vic joined the service at the age of seventeen and quickly found the best place for action was in special operations. He also had a gift for different languages. He spoke six languages fluently and was working on his seventh.

This made him and his team a very valuable asset. If the service could have, they would have sent him and his team on every mission. Vic would have loved that, but his men needed some time with their families.

Vic was single and he was going to keep it that way. He did not want anyone crying over his grave and some poor widow and kid getting an American flag with the thanks of a grateful nation.

Vic received the encoded signal. Both teams were in position. He gave the order and the attack commenced. It was twenty two men and two expert snipers against approximately one hundred and twenty enemies.

Silently as the clouds in the sky, the men dispatched the guards like they were not even there. Two minutes later, a dozen grenades were thrown into the main sleeping quarters. When the grenades went off, Vic and four other men smashed the door to what was believed to be the command building.

Four guards were instantly shot dead. Vic and his men entered the bedroom but there was no joy. The newest would-be terrorist leader was not there. "Shit," Vic whispered. Then he heard over his head set that his men had caught the guy in a small mosque that was part of the compound.

He left the headquarters building and made his way to the mosque. When he entered the building, he noticed two men bound and gagged, and a small female dressed in the traditional Islamic wedding garb.

He smiled. He and his men had interrupted a wedding. He received another message; the compound was secure. He gave the order to pull out. One of his men, named Jonathan Gibson, grabbed the girl by her arm and started to lead her out of the building.

In Arabic the girl protested. Vic turned to Gibson and said, "Leave her."

"Sir, you know what they will do to her now." Dawson, another of Vic's men said.

"Yes I do but she is not our responsibility. Now everyone move out."

Gibson was just nineteen and he was new to special operations. He had no clue that he had just defiled the girl by simply touching her. He had no idea he had just condemned the girl to death.

"Sir, what will happen to the girl?" Gibson asked.

"They will put her to death." Dawson answered.

Vic Harden could blame no one but himself, but he did not expect the compound to have any females. Nonetheless, it was his responsibility. He gave the command, "Move out."

"Sir---"

"That's an order, Gibson. Move out."

He had no sympathy for the young girl but he felt bad for Gibson. The men moved out of the small mosque. Vic Harden turned toward the small girl and told her in her own language that he was sorry.

The girl looked at him and said nothing, accepting her fate. Vic left the mosque. When he was outside he saw that half the compound burning, lighting up the night sky. That was not good. It would alert every slime ball within fifty miles.

His men were already moving out of the compound when he heard it.

It is true what they say that you never hear the bullet that kills you, so when he heard the shot Vic dove for the ground. A second later the enemy sniper was dead, but lying on the dirt was Gibson.

He was still alive, but when Vic reached his side and saw the hole in Gibson's chest he knew the boy had only a few moments of life left. He knelt at Gibson's side and held the boy's hand.

"S---ir," Gibson said and coughed up blood. "Please take the girl."

"I will."

"Give me your word, Sir."

"You have it!"

"Mo---mah…." The young boy breathed his last.

Vic Harden had given his word and his word was now a debt of honor. He had no choice but to take the girl. He looked up at Dawson who was standing there and said, "Take him."

Spec-ops did not leave a man behind.

"Yes, Sir." Dawson replied.

Vic Harden ran back into the mosque. He looked at the girl and in her own language he said, "Come with me."

The girl looked at him. She did not want to go but she did not want to die. However she was defiled and had no choice in the matter, so she shook her head 'No'.

Vic picked up the child. She could not have weighed more than 63 lbs and she was 4'3'' tall. Vic placed her at 9 years old, which was the proper age for a girl to marry under strict Islamic law.

Vic Harden cashed in a few IOUs. 48 hours later he had a passport and temporary custody papers for Sahar and he was on a plane heading back to the States. Sitting next to him was Sahar Azeri. Her name was the only thing Vic could get the nine year old to tell him.

In the baggage compartment of the same plane, in a steel casket was the body of 19-year-old David Gibson. To Vic Harden the 110 dead terrorists and the capture of Abdullah Assize did not equal one David Gibson.

There would always be another fanatic like Abdullah Assize ready to kill women and children in the name of Allah. It was a true perversion of the Islamic faith, but the Christian faith was no better. Both faiths could find a phrase in their scriptures that said in effect, Die in the name of God and go to heaven, or kill women and children in the name of God or Allah.

Vic Harden did not believe there was any entity called God, Allah, Budda, or any other immortal being. To him there was only life, death--- right, wrong, and freedom, which is not free.

He was a firm believer it the old saying, "To love peace, one must prepare for war."

He was 37 years old now and that was old for a spec-ops warrior. It was time for him to retire and like the old Indian Chief Joseph said, "I will fight no more forever," or so he believed.

The plane landed. Vic and the very silent Sahra made their way to Vic's new quarters. When he arrived at the house on base, he was happy to see all of his stuff waiting for him.

The small house had two bedrooms and one bathroom. He showed Sahra to her room and she asked him what time it was. He told her and she asked which way was East. Sahra was a devout Muslim and she had not prayed in some time.

She knelt down toward the East and started to pray. Vic left her there and went to his own bedroom. When he arrived he checked to see if his dress uniform was ready and it was. Tomorrow he would leave Sahra at the child care center for two days and make his way to Arlington National Cemetery.

As the commander of the unit, it fell upon him to give David Gibson's mother the flag and the thanks of a grateful nation. After the ceremony, he planned to get rip-roaring drunk, laid, re-laid, and parlayed.

The next day after he had done his duty, he spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Gibson. He told them that David was a good man and he had died in a good cause. Mr. and Mrs. Gibson thanked him. Then now Lieutenant Colonel Vic Harden returned to his motel.

He took off his uniform and made his way to a bar. He had been there many times before. The name of the bar was Charles. It was widely known as a pick-up bar. One could either drink the night away or pick up a semi-pro hooker.

Most the females at Charles were young bored housewives or college girls looking for some extra cash and a good time. Vic had been there many times before. He never picked up the same girl twice.

He entered Charles. Like most nights, the bar was crowded, but not packed to the rafters.

He found an open spot at the bar and made his way there. He waited for the bartender and ordered a double shot of Jack Daniels.

He downed the shot and ordered another with a Coke back. He looked around the bar and saw several potential candidates for a good night's fuck. He sorted the candidates out and found exactly what he was looking for. She was 5'4" tall, with short brown hair and brown eyes.

She was probably a 34 in the tit department, but the best thing was that she was sitting alone. He watched her turn down a few creeps before he walked over to her.

When he got to her table he said, "Hi, my name is Vic. What's yours?"

The woman looked up at him and smiled, then said, "Hi, Vic. My name is Susan. Would you care to sit down?"

"Yes, I would." Vic replied and sat down.

Vic bought Susan and himself a couple of drinks. They talked for a short time before he invited her back to his motel room and she accepted. They caught a cab and returned to Vic's motel.

At the motel Susan asked for some cab fare so she could get back to the college she went to. She asked for $200 and said she would leave in the morning. Vic agreed to her price and Susan started to strip off her clothing.

Vic sat on the bed and watched the young woman strip. She removed her bra and he noticed that her tits were not as big as he thought they would be, but he was not too disappointed.

The youthfulness of her breasts more than made up for their lack of size. Vic unbuttoned his shirt. Susan unzipped her blue jeans and pushed them down past her black thong panties. Vic guessed Susan was no more than twenty, and he enjoyed the fine definition of her youthful figure.

Vic stretched out on the bed. Susan removed her thong panties and joined him. She unbuckled his belt and tugged on his pants. Vic lifted himself up and helped her remove his pants.

He took off his t-shirt and she tugged on his boxer shorts. Vic looked at Susan's eyes and he could tell she was pleased with his lean muscular body and large cock. She got off the bed and reached into her purse.

From her purse she removed several condoms and returned to the bed. Susan would have preferred to do it without the protection the condoms afforded, but one could not be too careful these days.

Vic watched her slip a condom onto his erect cock. She then started to suck his latex-covered rod. Vic did not mind the condom. In fact if she did not have one, he would have insisted that they use one of his.

When Susan had the latex slick with her saliva she stood up on the bed and straddled his cock. She liked the fact that Vic had a nice-sized cock. She liked lean men with bigger cocks, but she could not be too choosy, as she needed the money for college books.

She was studying to be a doctor and her family helped as much as they could, but it was never enough to cover all the cost. She did not mind fucking for money, and so far she had always made a good choice in the men she picked up.

She licked her fingers and used them to slick her crack. She was going to enjoy fucking this man. She rubbed his covered cock up and down her slit, and when she was nice and slick, she pushed herself slowly down the length of his cock.

Vic enjoyed the tightness of her still-young cunt as she started to move up and down his rod. He reached up and fondled her tits. Although he was paying the young girl, he saw no problem with giving her pleasure.

He played with her nipples enjoying the softness of her tits. Susan felt her nipples become harder and thanked God she had again chosen wisely. She moved herself up and down his cock, stimulating her clit with each stroke.

Vic felt the familiar urge in his balls, but he decided to hold it off a little longer. Susan was close, she was so very close. She hoped he would not cum before she did.

She felt his cock swell in her cunt and she went over the edge. Vic could tell the young female was having an orgasm and that was all it took. His balls sent a torrent of cum splashing into the little latex tube. They both enjoyed each other and this was only their first go-round.

Meanwhile at the on-base child care center:

Sahar was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. She was in what she had been told was America. She was supposed to hate Americans, but she did not understand why. She was told that by her very ill father, who died shortly after he promised her in marriage to Abdullah Assize.

Her father told her Americans were evil because they supported Jews. This was also something she did not understand. In the Koran she had read that Muslims and Jews had the same father, Abraham. How could one hate his brother?

Her father told her as she grew older she would understand the need to hate Americans and Jews. But it did not make sense. Why did the hard-looking American save her? Who was this hard-looking American? It was all very confusing to her.

She would do as her father always said. She would leave it in the hands of Allah. It was not the time for prayer, but she prayed anyway, asking Allah for guidance.

At Vic Harden's motel:

Vic and Susan had several more go-rounds before they were both completely spent. Susan fell asleep first, which was not unusual for a girl who fucked for money part-time.

Vic had Sahar on his mind, wondering just how he was going to take care of the little Muslim girl. He would now have to scrap the plans of building a home on the property his mom and dad had left him.

He would have to find a community that had a mosque and a Muslim community to go along with it. Damn! He cursed himself, he should have told Gibson about the taboos. Oh well, there was no way of changing things now. He would take care of the girl in the best way that he could.

To be continued.

Email: loki925@hotmail.com