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Col. Reginald Cholmondley-Featherstonehaugh surveyed the group gathered in the makeshift auditorium, a mess tent with a crude platform at one end to serve as a stage. There were about a dozen subalterns and around eighty enlisted men. "Officers and men, you are gathered here to be given information of vital importance about the hostile tribe which you are most likely to encounter in this area, the 'Uatsu. To be frank, we are at somewhat of a disadvantage in dealing with them. They are accustomed to guerilla warfare in the jungle. We are not. The typical 'Uatsu warrior is extremely tall, six-and-one -half to seven feet tall. Though spare and gaunt, he is nonetheless muscular and very strong. He is endowed with generative organs of remarkable size, a fact, the importance of which will be made clear to you later. He is fierce, ruthless, cruel, callous, and much given to buggery, possibly because , among the 'Uatsu, male births outnumber female births about three to one. All of you have, throughout your lives, been indoctrinated in the concepts of fair play and clean fighting. I must now insist that you set this teaching aside. The 'Uatsu is the world's dirtiest most unscrupulous fighter. He is greatly amused by and contemptuous of the British notion that 'It isn't important whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.' To the 'Uatsu winning is the only thing that is important. He will seek to attack his opponent where he is most vulnerable. In short, in a hand-to-hand fight, he goes for the groin. In a fight between a clean fighter and a dirty fighter, the clean fighter will always lose. In guerilla fighting in the jungle you are very likely to find yourself in a hand-to-hand fight in which the dense vegetation makes it difficult to use your rifle. You have been issued knives and will be given training in how to use them. It would appear that officers are at an advantage, having been issued pistols. Do not rely heavily upon this apparent advantage. The pistols are Webley revolvers. The trigger pull is much too hard. Also, when I mention hand-to-hand combat, I am sure that you think of one against one. Two or three against one isn't fair,.....which is exactly why the 'Uatsu prefer to fight that way. You can only shoot or stab one person at a time, y'know. The 'Uatsu prefer to fight from ambush, coming upon our patrols at unawares. What I am about to say will sound like rabid fanatacism, but I cannot emphasise it too strongly. Fight the death ! Never allow yourself to be taken prisoner by the 'Uatsu. There are worse things than death, and the kind of abuse to which captives are put by the 'Uatsu is among them. I mentioned the 'Uatsu's taste for buggery and the remarkable size of his virile member, and I observed your smirks. You would find it less amusing if you were being buggered with a male organ more appropriate in its dimensions to a horse than a man. We know that they have raped prisoners repeatedly. I mentioned the cruelty of the 'Uatsu. They delight in castrating : gelding and docking their captives, usually after having sodomised them repeatedly. Distressing and embarrassing though it be to him, one of the victims of the 'Uatsu's cruelty and deviancy has agreed to speak to you about the dreadful fate of the patrol of which he was a member. He will mince no words. Indeed, having been an uneducated common labourer before enlisting in the Army, he has no knowledge of refined speech. His speech is quite vulgar. Also, he speaks with an outrageous Cockney accent. Any Australians among you will find him easy to understand; others may have difficulty at times. Corporal Thomas Aikens, please come out." A man, clad only in in a hospital robe, walked out onto the platform. [For the sake of comprehensibility to North American readers, Cpl. Aikens' narrative has been presented in standard English orthography.] "My name is Thomas Aikens. I'm a corporal in the infantry. Six months ago, I was in a patrol of fifteen men walking through the bloody jungle in single-fucking-file because the bloody path was too narrow to go two or more abreast. We were looking for a small pocket of 'Uatsu warriors who hadn't been subdued yet. We knew, though, that the fucking 'Uatsu might be all around us, so we looked alertly to every side with every step we took. To every side, but not up. The fucking buggers dropped out of the trees like snakes onto us. We never even had a chance to raise our rifles. There must have been ninety of the fucking bastards. Before we knew what was going on, they had us disarmed, stripped naked, and with our hands tied behind our backs. They grabbed our bollocks and squeezed them until we screamed and started to puke. This was to teach us who was in charge. They tied us all together by our bollocks so that we had to stick close together and march more-or-less in step so as not to rip our bloody balls out. They marched us to their camp. This wasn't a pocket of a few unsubdued 'Uatsus, it was a fucking encampment of about 300 of the bloody bastards. Sergeant Myers was thew oldest man in the patrol, about thirty, and they'd recognized his stripes before they stripped him. They brought him out in front of the rest of us and told him to bend over (in English! so, they'd learned something from the meddling missionaries), but he wouldn't. Not, anyhow, until one of the warriors kicked him in the balls. Then he had to bend over. The fucker who kicked him in the balls then straddled his neck to keep him bent over. The 'Uatsu gathered around took off their loincloths. Oh my GAWD, what pricks. I've seen horses with less. The bloody 'Uatsu bugger with the biggest prick of the lot got behind Sgt. Myers. Nineteen others lined up behind him. We all knew what was going to happen and didn't want to watch, but every time one of us looked away or shut his eyes, one of the fucking 'Uatsu would squeeze the man's bollocks.I never thought I'd ever hear Sgt. Myers scream. The man was tough as nails. But, when that fuckin' 'Uatsu bastard shoved that foot-long cock up his arse, Sgt Myers screamed like a woman being raped. The 'Utasu warriors laughed so hard some of them were rolling on the ground. Then he fucked the sgt. Every time the bugger pulled his prick part-way out of Sgt, Myers' arse, I could see that it was bloody. What really surprised me, though, was that Sgt. Myers got a stiffy and, after a while, he shook all over and the cream spurted out. I was embarrassed for him, acting like a poof that way. It wasn't long, though, before all of us spurted with 'Uatsu pricks up our arses. Suddenly, the bloody 'Uatsu gave a wild cry and his spunk spurted out around his prick and ran down Sgt. Myers' legs, mixed with blood from his torn arse. The first fucker pulled his cock out of Sgt. Myers and the second one plugged his hole quick as a wink. This bloody bastard grabbed Sgt. Myers' balls and squeezed them to make him scream again. This fuckin gut-reamer had a hair-trigger, though. He let go his load almost immediately and most of his spunk came back onto his own belly because there wasn't room for any more in Sgt. Myers' gut. But, it went on and on and on until twenty men had had their way with the Sgt. and seven came back for second helpings. By this time, Sgt. Myers' knees were buckling and he was all done in. He had lost his stiffy and he had spurted his spunk 4 times altogether. While he was still bent over, one of the warriors came up behind the Sergeant, holding a broad-bladed knife. He held it with the flat of the blade upwards. Suddenly, the fuckin' bastard thrusted the blade between Sgt. Meyers' thighs. His balls and cock were hanging right in front of the point of the knife, and it went through them and everything fell onto the ground. Sgt. Myers yelled ' Oh my Gawd, NO !' and fainted. An old man, I guess he was the witch doctor, came up with a pot of some kind of greenish paste and slathered it onto Sgt. Myers' wound while one of the warriors held him upright. Whatever that stuff is, our doctors ought to know about it. The bleeding stopped instantly. Well, we'd had a demonstration of what was going to happen to every man jack of us. And it did. They didn't want to waste time raping and castrating each of us one at a time, so every one of us got his neck straddled by a stinkin' bloody nigger and got raped in the arse. I'd been buggered before and I HATED it. I'm no poof. None of us were. We were MEN, for a while, anyhow, but not after the bloody 'Uatsu were done with us. I'd been buggered by a white man with a prick maybe half as big as the 'Uatsu's horse cock. If any othe others had been buggered before, I'm sure it wasn't by a nigger. How they loved to hear us scream as those monster pricks were shoved up our arses ! It hurt so bad that I cried like a little kiddy, and I wasn't the only one. If any one of us stopped screaming, the fuckin' bastard buggering him would squeeze his bollocks 'til he screamed again. It was the pain that made us scream. By now, nobody worried about damage to his balls. We weren't going to keep them anyhow. It takes about an hour and a half to get buggered by twenty men, if nobody comes back for second helpings. The youngest man in our platoon, Pvt. Sylvester, was still being screwed after two hours. You'd think that, by then, we'd be so used to pain that we wouldn't even notice the castration.WRONG ! We'd been dreading it every minute we were being fucked up the arse. I admit it didn't hurt as much as I expected. It was the finality of it, the knowledge that he'd never fuck again that crushed a man' spirit. Only four of us died. One of them was Sgt. Myers. The rest of us lived to be the slaves and whores of a band of filthy stinkin' niggers. Of course, I had to be picked by an oversexed bastard with a cock as big as my forearm. Finally, her Majesty's Royal Army found us and freed us. And now, you'll be wanting to see what my ordeal did to my body." With these words, Cpl Aikens turned his back on the crown and dropped his hospital robe. From behind, he looked like a young woman with wide hips and a large round bum. However, when he bent over, a great conical opening, like a funnel or even more like the bell of a trumpet was exposed between his buttocks, ending in darkness. "I have to be very careful not to shit my pants, these days" commented Cpl Aikens,"because I can't close my arse." When Cpl. Aikens turned around, there was a collective gasp from the assembly. The resemblance to a young woman was much more pronounced. The eunuch's once manly chest sported a fine pair of breasts like those of a girl of, perhaps, sixteen. Except for a sparse patch of soft, straight, pubic hair, there was not a hair on the sleek, smooth feminine body. Of genitals, there was no sign whatsoever, only a pair of indistinct scars.Without a word. Cpl. Aikens picked up the robe, donned it, and walked off the platform. Col. Cholmondley-Featherstonehaugh summed it all up in a few words. "Now you know why I said to fight to the death rather than be captured by the 'Uatsu ." |