Detention With Miss Downey Miss Downey s Story Chapter Four
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Shot Down In Enemy Territory free porn video
I was delirious from combat. The English Channel is no place for a pilot to recite patriotic poetry. Scenes from the flick where the hero babbles Rupert Brooke while he waits for the rescue plane are for bullshit pussies. I was too fucked to be a hero. To keep myself awake I kept talking. I said things like this:
‘My name is Jim, Flight Lieutenant Jim Glow-worm. I’m a fighter pilot for the Royal Air Force. Squadron 223 flying Hawker Hurricanes out of Biggin Hill. My engine blew chasing an Me 109 out of Britain and over the Pas de Calais. I turned my plane around and tried to get the hell out of foreign airspace. The enemy bandit turned tail on me. The fucking sausage blew my left wing off. Fucking good shot. I was forced to bail out. Now I’m floating around like fish food in the drink. And you thought officers of the RAF didn’t use the word fuck. You think we’re all blooming this and ruddy that. Well fuck your thoughts.’
No one was listening to me but my consciousness. I wanted someone to hear me. The sound of water splashing against my face was driving me ever more mad. I started talking again.
‘My name is Jim Glow-worm. I’m a fighter pilot for the Royal Air Force. I have lost my plane but I swear I’ll get another one and blow that fucking asshole all the way to hell. Do you hear me? You fucks!’
I had been given a kicking and I was ashamed of myself. I was absolutely exhausted. The dogfight had battered me. Exiting the plane had nearly finished me off. And now I was in the water. I couldn’t fight sleep anymore. I passed out.
I awoke half onshore and half in the drink. There was a beach somewhere underneath me. I kicked down until I felt the bottom. I was knee deep in water. I tried to stand up. My footing was unsure. I reached for my pocket knife. I burst my life belt and cut away my jacket. My undershirt had been damaged in the struggle to exit the aircraft. The arms of my shirt were ripped off and the buttons were shot. My muscled torso was exposed as I waded through the surf and onto the beach. The sun was high. It was a hot August day. I reached into my trouser pocket and fished out a damaged pair of sunglasses. I jimmied them back into shape and put them on. Then I decided to find out where the hell I was.
Up off the beach a couple of hundred yards ahead of me I saw a road sign. That wasn’t good news. There were no road signs left in British coastal towns. I knew I was on the wrong side of no-mans water. I was somewhere in France, formerly known as the land of the lovers. The Sausage had recently overrun this place. There was no love here anymore. It had become a land of sick perverts. I walked up to the road sign. It told me that the beach I had just walked across was mined.
‘Achtung Minen!’ it said.
I walked up to a pill box. There was no one home. I beat on the doors of the beach front buildings. No one answered. I figured my options. I could either wait until someone showed up and be taken prisoner of war or I could walk back across the mined beach and swim the twenty three miles back home. I had a think. Ten minutes later no one had showed up to take me prisoner. I got restless waiting. I pulled out my revolver and started taking pot shots at any suspicious objects on the beach. I emptied four chambers and then I clocked a fat mine. It went skywards and the clattering shudder echoed from the concrete pill box and the surrounding buildings. A few birds scattered from the rooftops. Then I heard an engine chugging in the distance. I think I had attracted somebody’s attention.
A car pulled up next to me. It was a Citroen of some type. A stiff little Frenchman got out and pulled a shovel behind him. He paced up and down the perimeter of the beach a couple of times and then got back in his car.
‘Hey!’ I said to him
‘What?’ he answered in English
‘Aren’t you going to take me in?’ I asked
‘No, it is not my concern. I am from the Bureau of exploding animals. My job is to retrieve whatever is left of dogs that run onto the beach.’
‘Then what should I do?’ I asked.
‘Are you going to start sniffing these walls?’
‘No.’
‘Are you going to play fetch between that pill box and that sea?’
‘No.’
‘Then I don’t give a shit what you do.’ He said.
‘Have you ever had a British Pilot shot down here before?’ I asked
‘Yes and I know what happens to you. I’m a family man. I live a quiet life. Your disgrace is your own concern. Good day.’
And with that he blasted away in his little Citroen.
I was alone again. There was nobody around. No one but me and the shitty sea-birds. I checked myself. I wasn’t too busted up. I still had my cock and I hadn’t lost my ball sack to a stray propeller blade. My injuries were what the medical board would call superficial. I had an eight inch burn down my right thigh and my shoulders felt crunched and bruised. My ass ached from kicking my way out of the cockpit. Fuck it. I was a tough bastard. I could take a bashing. I had kicked my way into this fight. They’d not wanted to give me seat at this party. They told me to try digging coal or they pushed at me to join the infantry. Fuck them. I busted my guts to get here. Through underhand knavery and slapping the right people I had finally got what I wanted. I was Jim Glow-worm, the only non-toff with a flying chair in the wing of my squadron.
I felt thirsty. Scrapping with the sausage and gargling sea water had made me parched.
I dragged my way through the deserted roads of the miscellaneous French coastal town. There was nobody in the streets, or in the church or in the hotel de ville. I stopped politely tapping on doors and kicked my way into houses, looking for one which had running water. I saw a house cat dash from a building and decided to investigate. Following the abandoned animal seemed to be a good plan. In the house where the cat had appeared there was a water tap still in working order. I pushed my head under it and slaked my thirst. I washed my oil stained and grease covered arms and chest then rinsed out my sea salted hair. Finally I pushed my scorched right thigh under the tap and let the agony and relief of the cool water splash all over the black cooked flesh.
There was a sound behind me in the street. I put my revolver into my hand and edged towards the front window. I couldn’t see anything. I climbed out of a back window into the alley, creeping low so nothing could catch sight of me. There was nobody in the back alley. I crawled on my belly around the side of the street to look back down where I had heard the sound come from. Down the wide street there was nobody. Not a thing. Not even a cat or a dog or one of the shitty sea birds. I felt edgy. I decided to make my way back to the pill box. Surely an enemy sausage would turn up at some point and get me the hell out of this fucked up and creepy place.
I didn’t make it to the pill box.
‘Halt.’ Said a voice. It came from behind me about thirty yards over my right shoulder.
I pushed my hands to the sky, my right hand was still gripping my revolver. The voice behind me shouted something. I didn’t understand the words, but I understood the tone of voice. I let my revolver fall. I reached with my arms as high as I could and then I slowly turned to face the voice. What I saw was a woman. A Nazi bitch. She was dressed in some form of shiny rubber outfit, like leather but glistening. I’d not seen that kind of material before. It was black and shaped tight to her curves. It made her look powerful and good to fuck at the same time. Fucking Nazi bitch. Her hair was cut tight and short and was dyed black. Her lips and her finger nails were painted jet black. Her chest was large and heaved with her breathing. She stared right through me. In her right hand was a riding crop. She casually swung it from side to side and then flexed it. A cruel sneer pouted from the top of her mouth.
I noticed she didn’t have a gun. Just the
riding crop. I look at her and weighed my options.
‘You want to get kinky, huh bitch?’ I said. And I reached down for my revolver.
The Nazi bitch licked her full lips and then brought a whistle to her mouth. She blew on it. I raised my gun and pointed it at her, but I was too late. A knife appeared at my throat. I dropped the revolver and glanced behind me. It was another Nazi bitch. She was also dressed in a shiny rubber outfit but hers was blood red. Her lips were painted red as were her finger nails and I could make out she had short cropped bleached blonde hair. I raised my hands in the air. The red Nazi bitch slipped a hood over my face and secured my hands. I considered struggling, but the red Nazi bitch must have read my mind because I felt the tip of the knife tease the side of my throat. I was pushed forwards and force marched. We must have walked for about a half mile. I don’t know. I had lost concentration. My face was drenched in sweat from the heat of the summer day and my mind was filled with images of these bitches in their strange and alluring outfits. I thought I was done for. I just hoped when they forced me to my knees and put a pistol to my head they would shoot cleanly and it would be over quickly.
With my face sweating and muscles aching I was marched further and further into the unknown. Then we stopped. I heard a door open and I was shoved into a place where our footsteps echoed from the walls. We climbed a set of stairs and then I was pushed into a room. I heard the door close and then lock. While still wearing the hood I was manipulated into a vulnerable pose. My arms were untied and were re shackled above my head. I felt my shirt being removed. My ankles were secured. Then my hood was removed.
I looked around. I was in a small windowless room. I presumed I was in a jail house or sanatorium of some description. I was unable to move. My wrists were tied with leather straps which were fastened with cables to the ceiling and my ankles were bound and weighted with large cast iron bricks. There was a single electric light in the room. I thought it looked dark, and then I remembered that I was still wearing my beat up sunglasses. In front of me stood the two Nazi bitches: The short cropped bleached blonde in the red leathery tight suit and the bitch with the short dyed black hair and shiny black outfit. The bitch with the black hair spoke to me. I didn’t understand what she said. I guessed she said ‘Do you speak German?’ Instead of answering I looked her in the eyes. She was a hard evil bitch. I didn’t take my eyes from her. She began to laugh and then said something to the other Nazi bitch. The red Nazi bitch then began to laugh and they talked to each other. They had evil smirks on their faces. I concentrated on hating them and tried not to think about how plump their lips looked or how their fierce eyes made me wish to sink my cock lustfully into their evil cunts.
They kept talking to each other and laughing. I got sick of it.
‘You fucking Nazi whores.’ I said.
The Nazi bitch in black stopped talking and suddenly lashed at my back with the riding crop. I tensed up and gasped, stunned by her viciousness. Then the red Nazi bitch unbuttoned my fly and careful eased my cock out. She ran the knife point softly along my shaft. I looked at the blonde bitch as she did it. I commanded my cock to be loyal to me, but the treacherous thing had other ideas and I could feel it stiffen against my will. The bitch in black then came up close behind me. She smelt good. She breathed her hot sweet sticky breath into my face. My cock became rigid and I felt my mouth long to reach out and kiss the Nazi bitch in black. She breathed into my face again and then thrashed me with the riding crop. I jerked and gasped. The Nazi bitch in red was now stroking my tense and erect cock with both of her hands. I looked at her and then the Nazi bitch in black came close to my face again and once again breathed hot delirious breath into my mouth and nostrils. She teased me, and then opened her mouth to kiss me. She stopped just short. The Nazi bitch in red meanwhile had surrounded my cock with her mouth. I felt her lips clasp and her tongue begin to swirl. The Nazi bitch in black thrashed me once again and then finally let me kiss her. While I was lost to her she pushed my pants away and put her hands firmly on my buttocks. I was in a delirium. The two Nazi bitches felt so good I wanted to surrender to them forever. I reached out to suck on the Nazi bitch in black’s soft tongue but she pulled away once more. I caught a look at her full black painted lips and fierce eyes and she removed my sunglasses and gently wrapped a blindfold around me. While the bitch in red continued to wrap her tongue around my cock the bitch in black spanked my naked buttocks with the riding crop. I struggled on my chains with each stroke of the whip, my cock got harder and tenser with each jolting thrash. I received ten strokes and then the blindfold was removed. The Nazi bitch in black smirked at me and then pushed a gag into my mouth and fastened it securely. She then walked to the back of the room. I heard the heels of her thigh length leather boots stride purposefully across the wooden floor. She wielded a branding iron in front of me. I looked at her face and she laughed. She fished around a small bag and fitted an end piece to the branding iron. The bitch in red stopped sucking my cock but gently kissed the end of it, keeping it perfectly hard. I watched the bitch in black as she heated up the branding iron on a coal fire. When it glowed read she picked it from the flames and flashed the end piece at me.
‘Slave’ it said.
I began to struggle on my chains but I was tied securely. I tried to scream and plead for mercy but my mouth gag was deep and my voice was muffled. The bitch in black slipped the hood over my head and I could see no more. The bitch in red took my cock deep into her throat and sucked at my cock with aggressive determination.
I began to gasp for breath. I felt tight and possessed. I was completely vulnerable. The Nazi bitch in red with the blonde cropped hair was sucking my soul out through my cock. Then finally the moment came. The scalding hot branding iron was planted firmly onto my ass. I buckled and jerked. I screamed in agony and orgasmed at the same time.
In broken English I heard one of the Nazi bitches speak.
‘He belongs to us now.’
End of part one (part two coming soon)
Myra
- 09.02.2022
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