AN EROTIC STORY HOSTED BY IMPREGNORIUM.NET

It all began with a botched black ops mission that landed us somewhere in Russia. Our squad was supposed to scout the hostile positions assisting the Ukrainian army in their border skirmish with Mother Russia. Little did we know what would happen when the shit hit the fan.

The squad was originally composed of Sergeants Long and Jones, Private Hooper, Private Lee, Specialists Gomez and Dillon, Lieutenant Foster, and myself, a Corporal.

There were eight of us. I say were, in the past tense. Hooper got us compromised when he broke radio silence to report what he thought he saw, instead of returning to the base back in Ukraine. His voice carried through the valley, loud enough to be heard by ear, let alone pinpointed by the radio by the expert Rusky direction-finders.

Fucking Hooper. I'd like to place the blame on somebody else, but he was the only one who wasn't doing his job as ordered. I usually blame problems on women, but the only woman here was Lieutenant Foster. Her fate would be far worse than any of ours. Why they chose her to lead the patrol was and still is a mystery, but what happened was not her fault. Except for the sex part that would come. I never thought what happened between Foster and me could ever happen.

Foster was a real bitch. Literally. She yelled orders and screamed instead of calmly directing us as our old CO did. I guess it was to compensate for not having balls. It wasn't her fault, but it got on all of our nerves. She would try to make herself as least attractive as possible to us, lest I follow her into combat with a boner. It didn't work. I think she had some constant struggle with the fact that she was outnumbered by men who could fuck her given the right moment, and she did her best to ensure that moment never happened. Lieutenant Foster, the company cock-tease.

She wasn't ugly by any means, 5' 6" in her boots with red hair usually pulled into a bun beneath her helmet. She shunned makeup, but had a natural beauty no uniform could erase. I didn't know much about her personal life, but she was never married and had no kids. I think she was 26 years old, but she could have passed for much younger in the right outfit.

I always dreamed of checking her out in the shower, but her habit of taking her sidearm with her everywhere would put that in check. Her body armor hid her shapely figure, but I knew she was at least a 36c up top, and a nice full ass as well. She couldn't disguise that she was a very attractive female, who unfortunately had to become our officer. This made her off limits, but my thoughts of sleeping with her were constant. Thinking with your dick usually gets you killed out here. It's too bad.

The fight? I don't remember too much as it all went by too fast. Gomez, Dillon, and Foster were each reaming out Hooper when the first shots came our way. I do remember hearing helicopters, and armored vehicles. When the contact started, everything went to shit and each person went separate ways. I think they jammed our personal radios as I couldn't raise the CP back "œhome" nor anybody with me.

I had two rounds left when I ran into the big Russian. I contemplated stabbing him with the bayonet, until I figured that between his flak jacket and bulk it would only piss him off. I held on to my weapon as long as I could during the struggle, but his right uppercut knocked me out cold.

When I came to, I was in a bathroom. The shitty, scum filled, nasty ass Russian barracks bathroom. I wasn't the only one there, much to my surprise. Gomez and Long were tied to the same metal pole I was. They looked like shit. If I had a mirror, I would see that I didn't look much better. Those Russians were pretty good with rifle butts and fists. At least I still had all my teeth.

"œDo you know about the others?" I implored to the Sergeant and the Specialist. They both outranked me, but salutes were pointless now.

"œYeah, they zapped Dillon and Lee. I think Jones too. I heard his gun fire a long burst, and then no more. If Hooper's here I'd like to kill him myself," Gomez replied.

"œI think they nabbed the Lieutenant. I think they got her alive, we weren't far apart when they closed in," blurted Long. The spaced out look in his eyes told me he wasn't sure of anything, but his words made my heart rate double.

Oh, shit. No matter what the situation was, Foster was pussy. I mean, she had one. Probably hotter than anything those fucking commies had ever seen. Had she been a guy, I wouldn't give a fuck, but this was serious. A woman captured behind enemy lines was fair game for anybody with a dick between their legs, and we were surrounded by enemy soldiers with exactly that. My head spun with images of her fucking the whole Russian army, and how she would feel when she had no choice.

A Russian Major paced in the hallway outside of our lovely new home. I couldn't understand what he was saying to his men. We were still alive, for now, so maybe it didn't matter. The hobnails of his shiny boots tapped against the hard cement floor. I guess the Russians didn't know about the miracle of linoleum floors in bathrooms. Shit!
Now was the worst time to think interior redecorations.

The Major marched towards our confined position. His dress uniform indicated that he was probably an intelligence officer, probably closer to the KGB than a field commander, which was not a good thing. The restart of the cold war did little for communication between our two countries, and I had no doubt that there was something he wanted from us, though at the time I had no clue what a surprise it would be.

He then began to speak. "œI am Major Bolcov. I lead 1st. Special Division. You Yankees fucked up. Why you are in our country does not matter. We know you help Ukraine. They are traitors to the union, and you Americans help them. This war is between us and them. You have no business here. We know how many of you there were, and we now have what is left of your spies. Spies! Oh yes, we have the woman too. She is held in other place, but you will see her very soon. She does not give us answers, things, bad things, will happen to her."

Bolcov's threat sounded real. Actually, Bolcov was for real. Except for that a Major would never lead a whole division, his threats did count.
He had a Markarov pistol in his holster the whole time and could have just shot Long, Gomez, and me just for the hell of it. What was worse is that I couldn't think of "œanswers" that Foster had to give. Bolcov knew everything, any interrogation would not tell him anything he already didn't know. His threat of "œbad things" to Foster was merely punishment for being captured.

What they could want from her was only one thing. Sex, and probably forced. Initially I tried not to think about it, but there was no way that it couldn't turn me on. Everybody hated Foster, because of her bullshit attitude and bitching. She would write us up for anything she didn't approve of whether it was legal or not. No alcohol, no smokes, no chasing skirts, her rules were ridiculous and hypocritical. I knew she drank, but lest she catch one of us drunk, it was hell. Foster's lectures were not to educate us, but just to berate us for some ill conceived notion that what we had done was wrong. I think even the Russians hated her at this point, with her attitude and behavior. The thought of her being forced into submission via a Russian gang bang in all holes was a happy one. Foster taking a large dick up her ass while she screamed would make my day.

The idea of Lieutenant Kelly Foster being raped got me harder than the big Russian's bicep when flexed. Karma is a bitch, especially when that bitch is involved. It was the one positive thought during my present confinement. I dreamed of Foster spread on the floor with a broken spirit and broken-in pussy.

Bolcov came back, this time with his Markarov in hand. His attitude was different, but not threatening. What he said blew me away.

"œNow, under ze Geneva Convention we cannot fuck your fucking Lieutenant. We cannot rape her. We can play games with you though. You! Gomez. Long. And you, Corporal, who will not give your name. You all will fuck her. I will fucking shoot her, and all of you, if you do not do as I fucking say. You will fuck your Lieutenant. This is her reminder of her failure as a comrade. This is her punishment for getting you captured."

"œFucking Hooper got us caught! You're fucking wrong, shitbag. Fuck you! Fucking commie!" Long screamed. I guess he didn't want to put his dick in Foster as much as I did. Given Foster's usual attitude I couldn't blame him, but other than the Russian nurses, she was still the only piece of ass around for hundreds of miles.

Bolcov drew his pistol on Long and gave him a lobotomy by bullet on the spot. The gunshot echoed in my head. Long never had a chance. Fuck! I don't think it was because he was defiant as much as that he wouldn't fuck Foster. I resolved myself not to make the same mistake, even though my conscience could not stop me from wanting to do just what Bolcov had ordered.

The big Russian dragged Long's body away as I contemplated what would happen next.

It was just me and Gomez now. And we would both have to have sex, yes sex, with our Lieutenant. Even with the threat of instant death, I couldn't help but get hard at the thought of getting between Foster's legs, instead of listening to her bullshit screaming compensation for not being "œone of us." We took her orders, under duress, now we took Bolcov's. Gomez didn't speak, but I can't be surprised if he was thinking the same thing as me. Gomez had problems with his wife's infidelities during his tour and would do anything to get her back. Banging his CO was one sure way to get back at her, and get revenge on Foster as well. Sex truly is a weapon. Gomez was left in the stall while the Russians took me away. I guess he would get sloppy seconds.

Bolcov led me to Foster's holding cell. The Lieutenant was the only one behind bars, in some jail facility meant as a stockade for Russian delinquents. I stepped into the cell as Bolcov locked the door behind me. His pistol meant business. My fear of death was overcome by my lust for Foster, and I played right into his hands.

Lieutenant Kelly Foster had been stripped down. Naked. My fantasy was right before me, her body presenting itself as Eve did Adam. I wasn't sure at first, but I think they had given her either plenty of vodka or some sedative drug as she sat on the dirty cot staring at me.

Her speech was slurred as she asked me, "œCorporal Ryan, what are you doing here? The n-nurse gave me a drink,I think I want another. These Russians,they want us,I want us,to be together. Uh-huh. It's true. Just you,.and me."

I had no coherent reply. I though of saluting as usual, but now was not the time. I looked into her eyes as she placed her bare hand against my still armored chest. Her gaze became a hug, then a kiss. She unbuttoned my BDU jacket sloppily and unashamedly while Bolcov walked towards some commotion down the hall, furious.

I heard yelling and then, a gunshot. Probably Gomez getting killed. It bothered me that he probably wanted to fuck Foster more than I did, but the poor Specialist never got the chance. I hope in death he got revenge on his cheating wife. Long was gone, now Gomez, and I was the only one left. The idea of Foster in some Russian gangbang was pretty sweet, but evidently they had different plans for us. Plans that were turning out to be unbelievable.

Foster kissed me after the gunshot. Yep, she was drunk all right. Her desire for me became more real as the last living other member of the squad were killed. A sickening thought at first, but she was turned on. Maybe she feared the idea of Gomez and me running a train on her. I guess so. She must have known how the men in the squad checked her out, every single day she was with us, looking for a sign here and there that she was attractive and admired, if not respected. I guess some things never change when you put both genders together, the thought of sex is always present even if suppressed.

"Corporal,mmmmmh,at ease,.get out of that uniform, it's an, an order. Do it. Just do me,I need to f-feel, feel something, c-close to me, I need,to fuck you, no,fuck me,oh, fuck me, just fuck me," Foster rambled with alcohol heavy on her breath. For the first time in her command, she wasn't yelling. I removed my armor. She unbuttoned my pants as I took off my boots. I was ready and willing, as she initiated the act of my dreams while I pondered how far this would go.

I turned around to see if Bolcov was watching, but he evidently had not returned, and some young petite Russian nurse was the only one on the other side of the bars. She giggled at my awkwardness in front of my naked CO.

Shit, the nurse must have been bi if not a lesbian at the least, as she stuck her hand down her skirt watching the Lieutenant and I get closer. I kind of liked her until she flashed a pistol and pointed at Foster. She would watch us fuck while carrying out Bolcov's promise to shoot us if we didn't.

I got my armor, boots, and pants loose quicker than I could put them on during a SCUD alert. Foster was blushing, or flushed from the vodka she was given before. She watched as my boxers came off, which I did with my back to her at first facing the nurse.

The nurse indicated for me to turn around and face my Lieutenant, but at least this time the gun wasn't pointed at me. Either my dick went in Foster, or a bullet went in me. I really didn't have to struggle with the choice I would have to make.

Like it or not, Foster and I were somehow a couple now, and I wondered if her lust had been there without the current situation in place. I admired her naked body, and she did mine. Her tits jiggled was she stumbled towards me, and I thought about how they had been so tempting, confined underneath her flak vest that hid her hot body. My mental image of her in the shower was nothing compared to what I was now seeing before my own eyes. She reached out for me first, though I was the one to pull her close for the first time and start the event that would change her life forever.

Kissing Kelly Foster on the lips drove her crazy. She went lower, and began to play with my rather well endowed dick, sucking and stroking. I wonder what her sexual experience in civilian life was, as she was no virgin, that's for sure. She had no shame or trouble wrapping her lips around my cock while her fingers worked her own clit. The idea of her masturbating back at the barracks as much as the rest of us did was something else. Clearly she was an expert at sex, with a partner or without. I wanted to be inside her.

As if I could wait. I laid on the cot as she moved on top of me , mounting my rock hard dick while grabbing my hands and moving them to her ample breasts. The rest of her body was tight with military calisthenics, but Foster sure had nice tits and ass.
She was wet and slick as I slipped inside of her, juices and sweat running down her thighs.

Kelly shifted and bucked on top of me, and I couldn't help but feel pleasure as she rocked back and forth riding me with my hands cupping her breasts. Fucking Foster. Finally I was doing just that. She may have been drunk, but her desires betrayed any holding back as she whispered my name, not my rank, for once. Her moaning and gasping was not fake like girlfriends I had before, but for real this time. Lieutenant Foster was getting off, on me. Her hard nipples and wet cunt spoke betrayed her as a willing participant in my sick fantasy.

I wondered if she was on birth control, as there was clearly no condom available here. I figured with her bullshit she was probably sterilized or something, but I began to wonder what she was thinking while my penis pumped in and out of her. We all knew her cycle, all the men know when she was on her period as she was especially bitchy. I knew little about the workings of the female reproductive system, but I did know that I surely would cum in her tight pussy and very likely, impregnate her.

The concept of Foster becoming pregnant with my child turned me on. Her life would never be the same after she would have to deal with a fucking kid growing inside her, stretching her belly as her breasts would grow and sag with the weight of warm milk. Foster would be changed, from a soldier to a mother. Soon, her fight would be over. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. It was a way of getting back at her for all the old bullshit, and I got to fuck her too. Making Foster pregnant would cause irreversible changes to her body that would probably ruin her self image, but that sure needed a change anyways.

Foster just stared into my eyes while we continued. Maybe it was the vodka, be she seemed to want this as much as I did. She kept grabbing my hands and running them over her body, making me touch and feel her as if I would not do it myself. She must have been treated better than the others left and myself, as her bruises had healed leaving her body fit and nearly flawless. I thought for a minute about pulling out and trying to cum in her ass, but separating her hips from mine seemed impossible now with her rhythm.

Her movements became more rough as she seemed to know I could only take so much more. Foster began to pant while moving my hand down to her still flat stomach, as if she knew that it would soon expand over the coming months after she would conceive. She bit my ear and lip, and her fingernails raked across my skin. Her nipples were hard, and she may have had the same thought of milk spurting out of them in nine months as I did. I was amused with the mental picture of Foster suckling a child from her tits instead of cradling a rifle and barking orders. Shit, I didn't even like children, but impregnating Lieutenant Foster was one hell of a fantasy for me that I had not thought of before this.

She pulled me closer as she knew we had both reached the same moment. I thought her pussy would crush my dick as I sprayed deep inside of her, both of us knowing that there was no protection. I exploded in her while she kissed my neck, and since I hadn't got laid in months since the conflict, it was one hell of a load I deposited in her. Her body shook with orgasm as she huffed and sighed while holding me tight. We both collapsed on the cot, her still panting as I pulled out and tried to sit up.

Foster pressed my hand just below her navel, certain that our forced union had been productive. I had to agree. Shit, she was the commander, and I was only an enlisted man. If she wanted to conceive, I would have to follow orders and conclude the same thing. Cum and fluid ran down her thighs indicating just how much I had left inside her, evidently more than enough to do the job. She smiled as she somehow knew what would now happen after feeling how much squirted past her cervix and was now busy starting life in her fertile womb. Women's intuition possibly did exist. Motherhood would certainly ruin Foster, but her lust and pleasure masked her fear and loathing for what would happen in nine months. She mumbled nonsense in my ear, her message lost in inebriation and euphoria. Her eyes, still glazed from excess vodka, soon began to close.

Shit! Just when I was almost comfortable, the Russian nurse dragged Foster away. I was lost for words as I watched her naked body stumbling down the hallway, the nurse whispering in her ear, pistol still in hand. Damn, if I hadn't been busy fucking my Lieutenant, I could have thought of an escape plan and taken that pistol.

Escape was now my priority. Foster could take care of her self, or rather the Russians would do that for her, I supposed. She was fucked, literally. Soon, I was able to obtain a uniform and weapon from a Russian private on a vodka bender. I made my way towards the Ukrainian border, and within a week, I was the only member of the patrol to escape and evade back to friendly territory.

It had been more than a border skirmish by now, as Russia had marched both west and south in preparation for invasion. It was a war. Our forces knew that Foster was probably still alive, but any search would have to wait as the world readied for war again. Neither side would ever result to nuclear weapons, but the standoff was the closest thing to a third World War that we would ever experience. Shots were fired, lines changed, but no capitol was captured and the situation became static as more allied forces poured into Ukraine and Turkey.

Seven months later, a rescue mission was organized, after my field promotion to Sergeant based on my debriefing. Of course, I couldn't tell them the truth about what had happened to Foster. What I had done with her, to her, and what would probably become of her. The plan to take out the barracks complex was mine, and there would be no mistakes this time. The others were presumed dead, but our Colonel informed me that Foster's experience was vital and she must be brought back. I didn't much like the idea. The Lieutenant, once sober and coming to her usual self, would probably personally try to kill me for knocking her up. I knew that if we found her, I would be in deep shit. I still hated her even if I had made love to her, but I couldn't help but wonder what ever happened to her. I would be stuck leading the mission in search of Lieutenant Foster and the Russian command led by Bolcov.

The raid on the barracks was without fruition. What did command expect? The site was empty, the Russians had pulled out to another front. Bare grey cement walls, my former holding place, and the cell where Foster and I were together were still there, only no sign of any life. Not even Bolcov or the Nurse were still around.

I found a photograph laying on the cement floor in the holding cell. The date stamp was a week ago. It was of the Lieutenant, and my heart nearly stopped as all the blood rushed to my dick when I saw what it was.

Foster was clothed in some tight little black dress that probably was a tailor fit- several months ago. How her dress fit now could be described as obscene. I could picture her naked, but I had already seen her exposed flesh before, and now this was something else.

While her body had been an example of military fitness before, she had gained weight in all the right places. She was clearly pregnant. Very pregnant. Her sheer dress did little to cover her large breasts spilling out the top, and her heavy belly from stretching out the bottom. Her body strained against the confinement of the dress as if it would rip with any movement, exposing her pale flesh underneath. My child was now growing inside of her, distorting her once proud body into her worst nightmare, carrying a new life when her essence revolved around taking lives and making life miserable for her soldiers.

I stared at the photo intently, noting that her nipples were peeking out of the top of the dress, and her face showed confusion and discomfort that somehow pleased me. Kelly Foster had gone from my commanding officer to just another slutty lush that got knocked up during a one night stand. Her will had been broken, and her body had been ruined. Not by the Russians, but by me, her own subordinate. I put the photo in my pocket as the helicopters took us back into friendly territory. It was a keepsake of what I had done to her, and while the Colonel declared the mission a failure, I had a piece of Foster that she would never get back.

I never saw her again, though I would always consider this mission accomplished.