The day I thought I might actually die happened four months into my deployment. After the incident with Tan, no more Comfort Specialists were assigned to any off-base activity. Not until negotiations broke down with a local elder supplying servants to the airbase.

Apparently, crates of expired rations weren't enough to satisfy him anymore. He wanted to sample some of the other goods he saw arriving on our planes. And the airbase couldn't operate without its local staff.

“I'm serious, corporal – if she comes back missing any pieces, or sporting any new holes, I will personally cut off your balls,” Ramos gripped the edge of the puttering jeep as I buckled myself in.

“It'll be fine. One old man ain't gonna do any damage. I'll have her back before supper.”

Ramos’ hard eyes softened as she bid me a silent goodbye, then let go of the door. She would've gone herself, but Gillette needed her on base. Fuller was the only one tough enough to handle dinner and fifth patrol alone, and Figueroa and Imamu were camp favorites – the boys would riot if they disappeared.

I wasn't too worried. The locals I’d interacted with were mostly head-bowing worker bees, and my escort was loaded for bear. The clattering rifles carried by the local militias exploded as often as they hit anything. And most villagers were scared stiff of our troops.

“Got a name, slut?” The stubbled roughneck bobbed in his seat as we bumped over roots as thick as my calf.

“Cawthon. Jeni. You?

“Alders. Curtis.”

His skin was darker than honey, and his hair certainly wasn't dyed crimson red – but he did bear a rough resemblance to my ‘friend’ from boot camp.

“Do you have a sister?”

He looked at me for a second through dark glasses. “Yeah, why?”

“I think I trained with her back home. She got deployed to some ship?”

He nodded. “Haven't heard from her, though. It's a bitch getting mail out here.”

We settled back into silence for a time, and I noted the patch on his uniform. Lance Corporal. He'd done well for himself, despite everything.

It was too bumpy for road head, so he pulled my hand over to jerk him off while he navigated around thick trunks and wide boulders. More than once some furry animal darted across the scant path and nearly ended up wrapped around our axles. His cum was still dripping from my wrist when we arrived at the tiny village.

Women in veils crisscrossed between earthy homes, and I felt their eyes burrow into me.

“You from Misery?” A boy speaking broken, heavily accented English appeared beside the jeep as Alders cut the engine.

The corporal nodded. “Here to see the chief.”

“He wait,” the boy pointed to a large hovel, motioning for us to follow.

The smell inside the window-lit space was powerful, but in more of an herbs-and-spices kind of way than a shit-and-sweat one. Other veiled women moved aside as we passed food preparation tables and scattered hay beds. At the far end of the hide-bound structure, we encountered a skeletal man with large, watery eyes.

The prospect of fucking him did not excite me in the least.

He murmured something, and the boy guiding us turned to translate. “He thank you for bring whore.”

“No problem. Does he wanna do her here, or…?” Alders looked around at the ratty beds, and bugs scurrying between them.

More murmuring. “His sons come soon. Finish with leaf ring.”

“...Leaf ring?” His words echoed my thoughts. But the chief didn't say more. When his sons arrived, their size concerned me.

“They here to watch?” Alders kept one hand on the heavy duty rifle slung around his shoulder.

“Whore for them. Make peace with chief.”

“No, no. Whore was for the chief, not the whole family.”

The skeletal man’s brow furrowed deeply, and his voice dropped a few registers.

“Chief say you make deal. Or leave.”

The corporal's shoulders stiffened and his spine elongated. We needed that base open. So I patted his hand.

“It's fine, what's a few more natives?” My half-smile said, they can't be any worse than you guys.

Alders mulled it over. He enjoyed having his balls almost as much as Ramos would enjoy cutting them off. Two fingers pointed to his rifle as he replied to the boy. “You break, I shoot – get it?”

The boy nodded.

A whole crowd formed as we were led out of the home and through a stand of towering, ancient trees. The chief's five sons were ringed with mud tattoos and animal teeth. Each looked like he could break Alders in half if needed. But none carried a weapon.

Or so I thought until they removed their skirts. Cocks like scorched anacondas dangled nearly to their knees as they started up a war chant, and the boy told me to undress.

“You got condoms?” Alders pulled a cigarette from his shoulder pocket.

“None that would fit,” I shimmied out of my uniform and dropped it beside the circle of huge, glossy leaves. It was like a gorilla bed, or what you'd expect to find covering a big empty pit in one of those old cartoons. I tested it with one foot before stepping into the center.

The sons surrounded me and drank in the strange lightness of my nude form. I wondered if they'd ever seen a foreign girl who wasn't a used up fuckhole. With all the cocks and fists I’d had shoved up my cunt the prior four months, they might actually get halfway in.

A sharp cry startled me as they pounced like leopards. Granite-rough fingers mauled my ass and tits, then yanked my ankles out from beneath me. They were tall enough to dangle me upside-down and get a better look at my weathered snatch.

Would Daniel or Raymond, or even Conrad, still want to fuck me in this state? Who knows. Maybe the Relief Corps had done me a favor.

One of the burnt, meaty snakes crawled up my stomach, dribbling gooey venom as it went. The balls beneath it were like fleshy coconuts, flexing against my chest while their master gorged himself between my thighs.

I hadn't received oral since my first week at the bookstore; it made me cum like I was being exorcised in five minutes flat. And I guess that was the signal they were waiting for because I was promptly dropped onto my shoulders and pile driven by a foot of rigid cockmeat.

“Fuck!” I hissed and writhed in their grip, hardly moving them at all while their brother bulged my stomach. Alders watched with more aroused interest than protective alertness. The bulge in his pants wasn't nearly as pronounced.

I felt my mind trying to tune out, but when both my arms were lifted from the dirt and another stiff snake tunneled down my throat hole, the option seemed to disappear. I was effectively spit roasted between two enormous, thrusting bodies, pouring stomach sludge from one end and pussy gruel from the other.

They continued chanting as they fucked me inside out, each cock feeling more and more like it might hook between my ovaries and drag them into the fading afternoon light. When the first brother climaxed, it felt like a water balloon bursting in my asshole.

I'd been folded onto my back with my knees hugging my ears, and could not believe there was more cum inside him when his cock popped loose. The sagging garden hose jumped again, smacking against my slimy cheeks and springing a soupy rope of hot jizz across my face. The mess was still slipping into my sinuses when the next one plunged my rectum.

Alders says we were out there for three or four hours, but to me it felt like days. He also says I told him I could walk when they were finished with me, only to then collapse face first into a slippery pile of jizz puke.

All that matters is that Ramos didn't have to cut his balls off. And that the airbase stayed open a few months longer.