The Last Command – Consuelo’s Fate, Chapter 4

Ann Blyth gets dragged outside of the church where she's subjected to a mass rape at the hands of the victorious troops.

Note: I've already posted this story, up to where I'm at, on a rape-fantasy forum called Ravishment Academy, where no characters under 18 are allowed in sex scenes. Ann is 18 in that version. I only made minor tweaks here so she can be in her early teens like it was originally intended. I find it most interesting to see that no changes whatsoever were needed in the sex scenes, for the very simple reason that she is not a prepubescent child!

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Chapter 4: The Never-Ending Ineunt

Anne, or Ann as she insistently wrote, was a very short girl who had always lived in a world that was a stage with the good folks and the bad people. She dreamed about becoming a stage actress, the best Shakespearean actress. She didn’t care about this being a despised profession, especially for a lass. That’s all she always wanted to be—an actress. That’s all she ever thought about ever since she reached the age Juliet was when she died in the arms of Romeo.

Even her outfit had something artistic in it. Ann had seen a painting when she was in Saint-Louis with her father, mother and sisters. The painting featured an Italian maiden wearing a dark blue skirt with a rye-white petticoat under a delicate bodice of a gentle laurel green, but what had struck Ann the most was the deep-rose sleeve coverings; rose like the deepest rose petal! Ann had pestered her father so much that then-Lieutenant Blyth ended up buying the painting for her tenth birthday, which was only three weeks away.

Ann had then begun wearing her long dark hair arranged à l'italienne. She worked her heart out in making the very same outfit for herself, with her mother's help. They made it extra large so the growing girl would enjoy wearing it longer. Her mother was always economical and full of forethought.

"What a fine young lady you will be, my dear Anne! I'm so proud of you!" her dear departed mother would say, oftentimes, when they did chores together or when she helped with her schooling, mostly teaching her Spanish or working her written English through excerpts from Shakespeare or Sir Walter Scott. They also owned an English translation of Schiller's Wilhelm Tell. "This Wilhelm is not a man, he's an endless well of proverbs!" Ann commented one day, shortly before she and her mother were struck by cholera.

Ann was very ill for a full year. She eventually rallied and recovered, but due to her illness or simply through her natural constitution, the blossoming maiden grew but little in size, just enough so that her beloved Italian-style garments fit her perfectly when she reached her current height, which really wasn't much. And now she had reached fourteen years of age and this was still her favorite outfit. Her mother was gone, but the dress remained---It was her most precious memory of her.

***

To Ann, theater was reality, and reality was but a distant play she didn’t know much of nor cared much about. There was a boy in San Antonio who cared a great deal about her. Esteban. But Ann was never really interested in boys up to this fateful day when General Santa Anna and his brigade overran Fort Alamo.

And then, after the inner fort was overrun and the Mexicans stormed the church, Ann found herself in a most bizarre role. And a most terrifying one.

When these three last Americans were bayoneted in front of her, Ann still didn’t want to believe that the evil men had won. She had kept believing that her father and the other Yankees, and the Hispanic men fighting alongside them, would prevail, since they were the good and rightful rebels and God wouldn’t allow the Mexicans to win. Texas was American. God knew this.

Ann’s head was spinning as she tried to make sense of what she was witnessing, just as Isabella was sobbing on her lover’s dying body and Mexicans grabbed her while all their fellow soldiers went after the Yankee women! With something horrible written in their suntanned face; greed and lust and something even more repulsive. Evil. If the priest had been present and had tried to protect the women, they would have skewered the holy man too and reddened the sacristy floor with his blood. She was sure of this.

With a shock, Ann realized that it also greatly concerned her! For some reason, those evil men saw her as a woman and not an actress who lived life like an ethereal dream. A couple of them set their lust-filled eyes on her!

“Quick! Ann, Mary… We must hide! They must not see us until the General arrives!”

It was Meg’s voice.

Ann felt someone grabbing her hand and that person led her into a panicked run amid the crowded sacristy, amid other fleeing women with Mexicans running after them, after her!

Ann saw it was Mary who was holding her hand, then she bumped into someone and lost her.

Those evil men were now crowding the sacristy with their grinning and jeering while chasing and grabbing screaming women! The Mexicans had stern or grinning faces; they seemed extremely happy and determined to catch the women. Ann was shocked to see how badly those brigands wanted the women!

“¡Buenos días, señorita! ¡Es un día maravilloso!” soldiers hollered as they seized Mrs. O’Hara by the wrists and waist and she tried to fight them off, her pretty face looking just as distorted as if she just drank India pale ale. Ann knew Mrs. O’Hara hated beer. Mrs. O’Hara was starting to cry and begged the men to please behave like gentlemen, but she spoke English to Mexicans who didn’t understand a word she was saying or they simply didn’t care.

They kept their hold on her. A thickly mustached soldier silenced the fair-skinned brunette with a kiss she desperately tried to turn away from and lost her bonny hat in the scuffle while no less than three other men pressed themselves around her. Ann saw their hands… They were touching Mrs. O’Hara on her… on her bottom? And on her breasts as well, while that mustached man with a dirty face kept forcing his kissing on Mrs. O’Hara, the respectable wife of a Yankee Sergeant. His olive skin looked like corrupt leather against Mrs. O’Hara’s angel-pale face.

A woman suddenly ran past her in a maroon dress—Ann saw her long dark hair and caught a glimpse of her noble figure; Consuelo! A comically overweight Captain was chasing Consuelo along with soldiers as she sprung over the fallen Yankee men and ran into the nave.

“Consuelo…” Ann started to shout, but her voice was drowned in the tumult.

Ann realized she was lucky; she was still free; her small size was her ally as the Mexicans were first spotting and seizing the taller girls such as her older sisters.

Ann started to cry, thinking of her sisters. But Consuelo…

Ann ran like a deer between two groups of soldiers in the act of carrying women outside the overcrowded sacristy. She sprinted! She jumped above the friendly corpses and ran after Consuelo in the nave. Her instinct told her she’d be safe if she stayed with Consuelo, so she ran after that figure in a maroon dress.

Consuelo had been grabbed by the arm, but she bit the man’s hand and scampered through the open front doors and into the bright sunlight, running like a scared rabbit.

Why did the soldiers try to grab Consuelo? She was a noble lady! Ann could understand that the soldiers would grab and hold and kiss the common women, but someone as noble as Consuelo?! God wouldn’t allow it!

“God! The light! I’m saved!” Ann told herself as she ran through the nave, oblivious to everything else.

Ann ran faster than she ever did. The light! If she reached the light, then she was safe! Her father would be there and somehow, there would be a miracle… She heard a familiar voice just before she ran through that front door. Was it Mary? She ran on. A formidably large and tall Mexican soldier tried to block her and she stooped down and passed through! Feeling the brush of his hands.

Ann Blyth was flooded with sunlight and blinded by the sun as she came out into the open, from the shadowy nave to Texas broad daylight. Outside! She was outside where a blur of cobalt blue uniform met a cobalt blue sky and the dusty wind hit her face as she ran, ran ran!

***

All was dust, blue sky and many loud voices speaking Spanish… Jeering in Spanish! “¡Hola! ¡Ven aquí pequeña señorita!” (Hey! Come here, little lady!)

“¡Pequeña señorita!” (little Miss!)

“¡Aaa qué bonita!” “¡Qué bonita!” (Ooh, so pretty! / So pretty!)

“¡Ven aquí! ¡Ven aquí, putita! ¡Wou-hou-hou-hou…” (Come here! Come here, little tramp! ...)

Running blindly among the jeering and whooping soldiers, Ann tried to locate Consuelo, but then she was grabbed herself by a great force and lifted off her feet!

She was being carried away! Were they angels sent from Heaven with their swords of fire to save her and her sisters? Saving Consuelo too? But why would Consuelo need to be saved? Wasn’t she a noble lady with honor?

Ann wanted to believe this as she was being carried, her body now more horizontal than otherwise. Many men were very close to her. Too close! Her nostrils were violated by their smell, a mix of sweat, musk, gunpowder and urine plus something even fouler. One of them smiled directly at her with bad teeth and his face was covered with blood!

She screamed! Someone touched her legs under her dress. Another hand felt her breasts! She screamed even more and wriggled in the arms of those laughing brigands. Now the miracle would happen! Now the angels would come and save her. They had to! Or else...

Then, she was shoved down onto the dirt. It was a hot morning in Fort Alamo. The sun hotly kissed her face before the men and their tall black shakos hid her from heavens under a blanket of shadow that came with their smell and their evil intent.

Ann realized she was unable to raise herself, pressed by their hands. She was alone in the middle of those loud soldiers. Awful! They pinned her to the ground, alone in the middle of their many sweating faces; men with varying shades of olive and brown in their rejoicing mugs; all men wearing that hated cobalt blue uniform with those ominous tall hats. All men grinning. Dirty and smelling worse. Grinning and looking at her in a way she was never looked at. What sort of play was this? Where were those angels? On their way to save her? Her heart began to race as she hung to the hope of being saved.

Ann’s senses refused to acknowledge those touches on her bosom as they were now pulling at her garments. She felt a large pull at her chest and heard a loud ripping sound where they... They just tore her collar! They were going to destroy her outfit! The very one she made with her late mother!

“Noooo! Stop this! No! No! Leave my dress alone! Leave my dress... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAA Aaaa NNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH..."

Ann screamed and begged and pleaded, tears filling and rolling down her dark eyes, her head wildly shaking from side to side on that dirt as the brigands were fiercely tearing and pulling at her clothes. She felt a rush of panic and overwhelming confusion as their hands kept ripping at her dress and pressing her bosom. She kept begging and begging! "No! No! Stop! My dress! Not my dress! I'm not even pretty! I'm so small! Nnoooo stop this pleeeeee eeeze!"

She felt a strangely pleasing sensation from her breasts under their hands, through her torn petticoat as one soldier used a knife to get rid of her bodice. Not her beautiful bodice! The brigand slashed it! He ripped it off! No! No!

“I’m only, stop… Find some bigger girls to play with!—no! Please! Leave me alone…”

They didn’t hear her or wouldn’t. Their mad faces positively frightened her. And then it got worse. One mad-looking man, the one with his face covered with drying blood, grabbed her damaged petticoat and tore it wide open, uttering some animal-sounding grunt as her small tits came into sight in a sudden display of erotic light that burned the men's eyes with absolute lust! She felt the air on her intimate skin. This had no right to be!

"AAAAAAAAA NNHAAA AAAAAAA you're destroying my dress! Aaah aaah aaaaaa mother, mother! Call those angels to save me.... Mother! Mother! Naaooooo ooooooo lemme go!"

They didn't hear her. They were drowning her in their catcalls, jeers and whooping sounds as the soldiers near her unbuttoned their trousers. Two men were holding her firmly pinned on the ground, one of them on top of her and gleefully sucking "those fine girly tits". His olive face enjoying her Irish paleness. Something broke inside Ann's soul as his tongue began swirling around her left nipple.

"Out of the way, Rinaldo!" said the voice of a leader, a stentorian voice filled with lust and a clear intent to have his way.

What were those angels doing? Weren't they coming? They had to! They had to, now! In her panicked mind, Ann hoped with all her will for a pair of angels who would attack and scatter those men with flaming swords-- and then she would reward those angels by giving herself to them if they wanted her. For only God knew her secret. She was no true virgin.

"Now you stay quiet!" the man near her face told her in clear Spanish that she understood. The cold blade at her neck was even better understood.

Men were arguing between themselves as to "who's gonna fuck the virgin lass first". Hands were holding her wrists and ankles so hard it was hurting her. Someone was bunching up her dark blue skirt along with the lower part of her petticoat. They were going to shame her! Where were those angels? Why weren't they coming? Someone was painfully pulling her ankles. She understood in that flash of pain that they were removing her shoes while two men began punching each other amid a chorus of shouts, yell and laughter.

Something was poured on her bare bosom and she smelled it. Tequila. A bearded man was then on her and began to lick her breasts after smiling at her and saying "Salud!" She shook her head, her little fists clenched where a jeering man held her wrists as she shuddered under this new humiliation. She felt his beard as it brushed her sensitive breasts. She hated this! Most of all, she hated those angels for not coming to save her. Why was God letting her down? Didn't she pray every night before going to bed like a good Catholic girl?

Those men arguing kept saying the same words, such as “bonita”, “pequeña señorita” and “desnuda”. Did some of them want to see her in the nude? To humiliate her? That must be it.

Ann suddenly jerked left and right in a desperate attempt to break free. “Father! Con… Consuelo! Consuelo!” she shouted amid the thick forest of hands holding her down. Her voice hit the loud Mexican wall of their jeers. They were so loud! So determined! It was as if there was a treasure worth a king’s ransom under her dress and they were arguing as to who was to see this treasure first. All those men holding her down, arguing between themselves with madness-filled eyes! It was so terrifying!

She freed her left ankle and tried to kick, but they grabbed her leg again. She kept jerking and wriggling, crying and shouting as she felt someone was kissing her feet and even licking them. Some tickling sensations spiced the burning pitch of her terror.

The air and the sun hit her face directly, while a dirty legion of hands kept cupping and kneading her breasts. Faces jockeyed for position as her nipples remained under a near-constant flow of kisses and tongue strokes, often broken by competing hands and words of arguing in fast-spoken Spanish. Ann shrieked in panic as her small body was assaulted by waves of shame and a host of sensations that were foreign to her. That dirt under her bare feet gave her a weird feeling of sensuality mixed with earth-kissing debasement.

Why were they so fond of her small breasts? They kept touching them. Others seemed to be also very fond of her feet and ankles as there was never a shortage of hands touching them. Ann felt the air directly against her legs and realized her dress was being tucked up all the way against her waist, along with her petticoat! She cried and wailed, rivers of tears on her blushed cheeks as she felt their gazes on that small patch of hair she had between her legs. It was so humiliating!

“Please… Find a bigger woman… Let me go… Lemmo goo...” Ann cried out.

“But you are a woman, little señorita! At least we’re going to make one out of you! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

The man who had just answered her in English was in the act of lying down on top of her. He was wearing a better-quality uniform with golden epaulets. Ann wanted to push him off her, but she was firmly pinned, and now spread-eagled, and she was now getting tired of straining and resisting.

“We go make little señorita mother!” the officer added in bad English before repeating his words in Spanish, which sparked a round of laughter. Ann noticed his golden epaulets with thin fringes, from up close, meaning he was a junior officer. He wasn’t a very big man, but to her he was heavy.

A mother?! A baby?!

"No! Nooo! Noooooooooooooooo! I wanna be an actress! You've ruined my dress I hate you--aaahh naaaaoooo!"

Deeply lost and nearly crushed under the officer, Ann tried to jerk and break free in one writhing burst, but all her tired efforts didn't seem to matter to this olive-faced officer with a thin mustache. He forced-kissed her, then he went at his belt and did something with one hand while odiously stroking her nose where his other hand fell as he supported himself on his left elbow. All this amid all those loud Mexicans whose terrifying voices and faces confused her deeply. Ann shrieked in sudden pain. Something horrible was pushing hard between her open legs…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Ann’s shriek broke her voice. The pain tore her soul. It was fire! Fire from Hell! An entire world of forgotten pain was cracked wide open. The same thing was happening again. That evil thing those two men did to her a few years back and she thought she had almost forgotten. She had almost forgotten how bad it hurts.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NNAAAOOOOOO it hurts please… St… op…”

That something kept pushing harder, stubbornly, as that officer directly above her sounded and felt like he was straining under great exertion. He kept pushing even harder. Stubborn! Ann almost passed out! She was in the heart of a hurricane of the loudest demons she ever heard. Demons spoke Spanish.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA – AAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…”

That stubborn something kept pushing inside her. It got deeper and even more painful! Deeper. More pain. Hell! Something pushing…

Ann felt the searing pain, causing her to shriek even louder with her now-hoarse voice as that Big Something was now far inside her, and the officer with the thin mustache was now grinning only inches above her, looking into her eyes with the gaze of a madman as he pulled back, as if to exit her… Then he came ramming back inside her, deep! She cried out and yelped. It recoiled again, only to come all the way down again, and even deeper! Ann cried and wailed.

The up-and-down movement became a rhythm. A rhythm of crushing pain that answered to the panting and grunting from that officer whose heated breath she felt on her neck. It hurt so bad!

“St… Stop. Please, Sir… Stop! It hurts! Ooh, it hurts too much!”

“Don’t, aah, worry, aah, little maid, ohh, ahh, you’re, aah, ¡Santa Madre de Dios! You, are, ahh, going to like, aahh, this!”

The officer spoke no more. He kept crushing Ann under his weight as he viciously accelerated and kept hammering her.

Ann was in agony! Albeit her pain did become a little more diffuse. All around her, Mexicans were laughing at her under their black shakos, jeering at her and calling her a “putita yanqui”. She understood “Yankee”, but whatever “putita” meant, she’d rather not know. It must be a filthy word, the opposite of the Holy Virgin. A whore.

Suddenly, the man inside her sounded as if he was hurt. He sounded like, “Aahh—aahh, aaaaahhh… NNNNNNNNNNhhhhrrrrr…”

Then, he remained, crushing her under him. His hot breath, panting, was intensely baptizing her neck along with his sweat, and this was the only sensation that Ann found a bit pleasing. This and the brushing of her nipples against his bosom. This brushing was weirdly pleasing, even though she loathed that man. Clearly, the Mexican officer had found doing this extremely pleasing. Throughout her pain, Ann felt the sheer intensity of his joy. She then began wailing and pummeling the man's back with her little fists as she realized all those men were going to give her that same searing pain.

"Get off me! Get off me lemme go take me to Consuelo lemme goo... Aaaaa aaaaaaaaaaa m'ma!"

“Now, Señorita… Now you woman! Little Yankee tramp! Yanqui putita!” the officer said before he kissed her tenderly, as if he were her own father rewarding her for a good deed!

"Just as you say, little whore!" said a forty-something Sergeant with his blood-red epaulets as he helped his officer back on his feet, before kneeling between her legs and reaching down inside her sex.

"See! She was a virgin!" the middle-aged ruffian said as he showed two bloodied fingers to the pack of dirt-faced men. Then he got rid of his shako and dropped his trousers before immediately getting down on top of her, and then he punched inside her, causing her to yelp in her renewed pain as he covered her and he himself took her tiny wrists and kept them pinned in the dust.

Then he began to pound her, his eyes burning with devil-pit pleasure as he reveled in the jiggling of her breasts, a short and nervous jiggling since Ann's were small ones.

"Aah yeah, yeah! I love this! Just white as a lily she is, hrrnn! Oh, Madre de Dios! A good good fuck, ahhrr! Better than this, uuh, this farmer's wife, hrrr, wife with skin just like, aahrr, brown squaw, rrhh... Now this is the real deal, ahhrr Dios! A virgin lass!"

"No no no! Get off me! It hurts! aaaaa- aaaaaahhh you disgusting old man-- nnhaaaaahaaa AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... RRRRHHAAAA AAAAAAA AAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!"

"Aaah yeah, I love this when they scream! Aaah aaaahhh! Take this, little tramp! This! This this and this, hrrrhh! No escape, white princess of Yankee land! Cinderella is now in rags! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! In rags, and her feet hitting the dust! Ha! Ha! Haarrrh yeah! Yes! Yes! Oohh God I feel so big inside herrhh!"

Ann was forced to remain flat under him, looking away from his leathery face, and---through the veil of her tears and amid the rocking motions from the ramming pounding---she looked around her and all she found were eyes loaded with evil intent, evil faces that ranged in skin color from light olive to dark leather, and nothing but Yankee-defaming jeers and mockery. And men showing her their thing!

The Mexican Sergeant grossly licked the side of her face as he urged his pace to an unbridled frenzy, slobbering her face, then raising himself again on straight arms where he got hypnotized by the short jiggling of those maiden tits---so ungodly white! He had never seen such paleness in nipples before---and as he got lost in contemplation and slowed down his terrible strokes, as he loved the subtle shadows marking those dancing nipples, the man blissfully exploded inside the young lady!

In this supreme moment where he was erupting inside her, his eyes told her he was having a hard time believing this was actually happening and there was a bit of guilt there too.

Ann bawled and began pummeling his back with her fists as soon as he let go her wrists. "AAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YA MONSTERS! AAAHHHHHHH I HATE YA!"

She kept bawling as the dirty old man got lower down and gently pinched her left nipple between his lips while cupping and pressing the other breast. Ann tried to gouge his eyes, but he seized her little wrists and tossed her hands away, and then he slapped her hard!

"I know you love me, señorita, but be patient! I'll be back soon enough to give you more, but my men have to try you out first! And rejoice, girl! They risked their skin to capture this shit-hole of a place, just so they could have you! Yes, wench, we came here just for you! Just to see how white your titties really are!" said the depraved Sergeant in surprisingly good English.

He then lifted himself from her. He picked up the gold-adorned shako he had lost during their encounter and was gone, vanishing behind the thick moving wall of a great many soldiers in powder-blue uniforms; all grinning down on her from what seemed like mountain-high above her, where the sun hit their sun-baked faces with their shakos casting warlike shadows, perhaps hiding the sense of guilt some of them felt under the boiling heat of their lust for the Yankee lass. She was too white to be true!

The dusty sun made her nipples look even paler amid her sunlit breasts before their moving forest of shakos cast a shadow on them.

***

The Mexicans had won and were happy and playing with her. But it hurt! Physically, spiritually. It hurt so much! There was movement around her. Men were arguing again. Through that forest of legs, Ann looked off to her right and she saw…

She saw Consuelo. Consuelo!

Consuelo was held in a bent over position, her dark hair hanging loose and swaying back and forth under her noble figure, with a man holding her arms out in front of her, amid a pack of laughing soldiers wearing that same sickening blue uniform and those same shakos. Behind her stood that comically overweight officer she had seen in the church. He was holding her waist and playing a game that consisted of forcefully thrusting his lap into her bum! She couldn't believe she was seeing Consuelo like this, out in public!

He seemed to greatly enjoy doing this. He was smiling a mile wide! But it was Consuelo all right. Ann recognized her fancy maroon dress where it lay on the ground nearby, badly torn. A Sergeant holding a knife was mocking her while the fat officer kept pounding her like a breeding stallion, his pudgy face speaking volumes about how he was loving this.

They had stripped Consuelo out of her dress! How could they do this to a noble lady like Consuelo? God wouldn’t allow such a thing! Those brigands in uniform… They wanted to humiliate Consuelo?! How could this be allowed to happen?!

Ann’s gaze was hypnotized by the fat officer’s buttocks and his ever-renewed thrusts against Consuelo’s all-white derrière. Ann acknowledged with a shock that Consuelo was indeed being raped! Gang-raped.

Then, the fat officer moved frantically and he stooped down a bit; he seemed hurt? It was as if some thunderbolt from Heaven just struck him. Indeed, the ugly officer looked up toward the sky and he seemed to shout something at the heavens, although Ann didn’t hear from where she was, being herself amid so many loud Mexicans.

Then, she was grabbed by the head and a man’s face was pressed into hers. Something wet was now licking her lips, her nose, her cheeks… Ann realized with disgust… His tongue. This was his tongue! Disgusting!

That man was on top of her. Again, she was crushed under him. He too wore red epaulets with fringes; a Sergeant, albeit a younger, handsome one with pitch-black hair and hate in his eyes. He no longer wore his shako. Ann saw he had some white hair.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! Not this again! Please, Sir! Nooo! It hurts so bad! Nooo—oooo AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

Again, the agony! Excruciating!

That Big Something was pushing hard! If anything, it felt even bigger than the two men before!

The man was straining on top of her. Ann shrieked in absolute agony as he hammered himself deep inside her, always with that same hate in his eyes. He was now groaning on top of her, sounding very much pleased as that Big Something was once again moving up and down inside her. Ann felt the pain slightly become better.

Ann cried. It was so humiliating! Consuelo… Having seen what was being done to Consuelo filled Ann with an all-encompassing sense of horror. Even the noble lady! They were playing that hurtful game with Señorita Consuelo! They were truly evil!

She lay under the ever-painful hammering, under the Sergeant. If they were doing that big something to Consuelo as well, then they were doing this to all the women in the fort. Her sisters… Her sisters?! Meg?! Rose-Ann?! Mary?!

Ann began to sob anew, very bitterly. Her poor sisters...

“Stop! Stop thi—iis! Aaa—aaaa—aaaaaahh!”

The Sergeant was now grunting madly, pounding hard inside her, frantic and insane on top of her. He sounded like some human monster trying hard to imitate a machine from Hell…

“HNN—HNN—HNN, HNN—HNN, HNN, HNN, HNN HNNN HNNN HHNN-HHNNN… HHNNNNNN!”

It was terrifying!

Then he sounded hurt! Just like the older Sergeant before him, except he sounded a bit differently, something like, “Hhmmnnn… Nnnnhh UUGGHH!!!”

He was quickly gone. She felt weightless without him on top of her.

Another man came. This one only wearing one red-fringed epaulet. A Corporal. They were raping her in order of ranks. Just like she had once heard the Comanche Indians did to any girl they captured---from the leader of the war party to the braves, the senior ones first, then right down to the youngest tomahawk among them, and the poor girl would see them brandishing the scalps of her father and brothers with her farm house burning in the background. Ann bitterly cried as the Corporal killed her with every stroke he gave her. Why wasn't she born in Europe? Why did God see fit to have her live in this land of savages?

Red was evil; a Yankee Sergeant would have worn three chevrons; three for the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, as her father had told her many times. Ann would have willingly played that game with a Yankee Sergeant; a Yankee man would have felt warm and nice inside her. Those evil men hurt because they were Mexicans, the enemy. Devils from the Pit!

As the rapes went on, and more Corporals came, and then the Privates, Ann desperately looked around her, looking for a Yankee Sergeant, looking for a Yankee officer... Where was Davy Crockett? Father… where was he? All she saw were Mexican uniforms. How could have they won when they were the bad ones?! It didn’t fit with how the world was like.

The Private topping her now was still wearing his pitch-black shako. Ann braced herself for that Big Something she knew was going to hurt her deep, and burn like boiling pitch inside her. Those shakos were so evil!

“¡Las violamos en orden de rangos! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Weepa!” someone said amid the loud jeers. (We're raping them in order of ranks! ... ...)

“¡Buenos días, señorita!” the next soldier said as he moved himself in a way she began to know and dreaded. On top of her. To give her his sperm. Her only purpose in this world. But wasn't she an actress?!

She tensed and braced for that boiling pitch inside her…

Sure enough, that Big Something was there, painful as hell, but this one felt nervous and jabby. He was hammering her in fast jabs, and sinking deeper as she shrieked in pain and was filled with shame. Yet again. Was this ever going to end?

The pain was so fiery and intense! That man just hammered and jabbed inside her, putting all his weight into it! He didn’t care one penny about her being hurt and screaming. After this man died inside her, another one came. Then, again, the Big Something was inside her, up and down, up and down. Ann felt the boiling pitch. Was she getting used to it? It was now duller. More manageable. Just slightly more manageable.

Ann thanked God that none of her sister was seeing her like this. And father… Where was he? Was he…?

Ann broke down in tears once again, with the joy-filled man straining and sweating on top of her. He kept ravaging her virtue.

Ann wailed and cried out and began to curse at her captors…

“Aahh! Matate a mi padre! I hate you! I’ll kill you all!” Ann shouted in a confused mix of her native language and bad Spanish. Those evil men had killed her father!

The men just laughed around her, some drinking, while their mate kept intensely straining on top of her, licking her face amid his grunts, losing his shako in his relentless barrage of hammering jabs. She felt how much he was enjoying her suffering.

Ann realized her body wasn’t only suffering like her soul. The uncovered tips of her breasts were directly brushing against the Sergeant’s uniform. She felt the sensitive skin of her nipples against the wool of his Mexican military jacket, and this caused waves of pleasing warmth to radiate and somehow make their way all the way down to her navel, then her hips, her buttocks where she felt her weight and his weight against the dirt… Those waves of pleasing warmth even made it down to her womanhood.

Her cries underwent subtle changes. There was something else in the sound of her wails, of her swearing and cursing. She was beginning to whimper as well.

The man was presently shaken by what felt like a powerful storm of frenzy where his jabbing thrusts became inhumanly fast. Then came his long growling finish... "AAAAOOOOOOONNNNNNNNHHGGGH!"

Ann closed her eyes, crying and shaken with sobs, shaken harder by the convulsions of that pig growling right against her face, polluting her with his sweat and slobber, not to mention his load of filth inside her. Then, she realized she was arching her back and moving her bosom in a way that caused her tits to be compressed a bit more against the exhaling man.

Then, he went lower on her, panting. Ann felt his hot breathing directly against her breasts and she was suddenly taken by what felt like a big ball of bonfire that acted so arrogantly as it pretended to fight off that hell of suffering she was in. The bonfire did its thing inside her and there was some measure of heat in her whimpering, and she did hear men saying "the little puta's loving this" or "they all love a good shaking". They were wrong!

This little burst of carnal mirth was soon sent back to his room like a little boy caught playing with weapons he shouldn't be using. She felt the man’s tongue on her nipples. He cupped her small tits, but all shreds of pleasure were now gone. It was as if all joy was killed inside her amid the loud thunder of Mexican laughter.

The man was then lifted off her. Another man was already settling himself down on top of her. This was a big man! It was that same formidable man who had almost caught her at the church's entrance.

Ann felt his weight bearing down on her, and with this she braced herself for yet another session of that Big Something hurting her from within. Her wrists and ankles were so sore! She quit trying to break free, but they held her so tightly that it still hurt!

The man was so much bigger and heavier than the previous ones! She was literally disappearing under him! Ann only stood four feet and nine inches. She had long stopped hoping that her bosom would also grow along with the still-childish curves of her hips. She often felt jealous of her elder sisters. Now all of those petty things from a maiden's vanity were gone. Hope itself was gone. All she knew now was pain, suffering and feeling beyond humiliated. Why did God abandon her? Why didn't He send his angels to save her? Why were there so many of those awful men around her?

Ann braced for the upcoming pain. She hoped this wouldn’t be as painful as the previous times. Perhaps she was getting used to that grim dance, but then... a big fist of searing fire informed her that for some reason, this was the worst!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH NAAAOOOOOOO OOOOOO ‘t hrts!”

This time, the Big Something was truly Big.

“Aahhh! Santa Maria!” the Private exclaimed as he mercilessly penetrated Ann, whose shrieks were deafening!

"Let's go, Big Pedro! Show this Yankee wench what it's like to be on the losing side!"

"Tell us if this youngster is better than Consuelo!"

"Big Pedro got his turn inside Consuelo de Quesada?! The lucky bastard!"

"Yes! And Big Pedro is already going again! He's the pride of our regiment! The strongest man in all Mexico!"

"No, it's the large Antonio from my own village!" "It ain't so!" "Yes it is!" "You dirty scumbag liar!"

The big man raping Ann, grinning like a sun-baked devil, his mustache like black pitch, impatiently hammered himself down inside her, while the bickering pair began trading punches and pesos wagers were quickly taken by half-drunk men.

Big Pedro raped her with his torso propped up on straightened arms as he kept up the his repeated groove of torture inside her, dishing out great pain and suffering to the maiden, who kept whimpering in agony as she felt his gaze on her freely-moving tits. Amid her suffering, an ironic thought took shape--They did like her tits... Then she must be pretty in her own way, but... Ahhh it hurt so badly, aahh!

Ann was in too much agony to do any thinking. God be damned if He was testing her virtue! Ann was certain that that pain was even worse than what Christ endured when the Romans crucified Him on that skull-shaped hill called Golgotha. Christ was a man and therefore had no idea of the pain a woman could endure!

"YEs! Yes! Ooh yes! The little lady! Her skin lily white! So pretty, aaah aaaa haaaaa aaaa yeah yes! AHHHRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGH!!!"

After dumping a massive load inside her, Big Pedro picked up his shako and got back up on his feet, where he was met with his mates patting him on his wide and massive back, some of them having their faces blackened by gunpowder.

Ann wanted to raise herself, but her wrists and ankles were held all too firmly. That hurt too! Where were God and his guardian angels? Swords of fire were there all right, in the form of their penises that were tainted by her menstrual blood when they pulled out of her. She was no virgin even before they lay their hands on her. Only she knew. She had never told anyone. So only she knew...

Mirabile dictu, she smiled a bit as the next man made himself home on top of her. She wore that faint smile because they thought they were having a virgin, while they weren't and only she knew.

"Now that I've won the fisticuff, I take my prize and pleasure inside you, little lady! Oohrrrh Dios! You're a tight little robin! Ooohh God! This... This is so good! Hhrrryaaarrrhh!"

Ann quit trying to resist. Her head bobbing in the dust, she tried to ignore all those filthy hands on her, for they never stopped touching her everywhere they could. Another one who said she had beautiful feet! How strange! She had no idea some men worshiped this body part to such an insane degree.

This man proved a long laster. She kept vaguely enjoying the small edge she had over them in knowledge. So they thought they were deflowering a maiden!

Little did they know she was raped once before, a few years back, by a pair of ruffians when she was in the woods to get some pecans. They had probably followed her. It happened and was over so fast! It's a pain a girl never forgets. They didn't even take her pecans! She went back home, dutifully carrying her pecans, and never said anything about it to anyone. After this, she always wanted to remain indoors and got further lost in her world of dreams. She even sometimes got hit by her father for refusing to go get something outside and always insisted someone come with her. Ann found her safe haven with Shakespeare.

Ann felt ashamed and guilty. Maybe it was her fault if she was pretty. Maybe it was her European-style outfit she used to wear with so much pride! Hubris! She was a little tramp all right, but God would forgive her weakness just like He had forgiven Mary Magdalene, the prostitute who had turned her heart to the love of Jesus. Aahh, she felt so confused! What sense was there to find in this play from Hell?

The man raping her presently grinned and his mustached face became a distorted mask reflecting something like pain and joy, all at the same time. Ann felt him as he twitched inside her, then he let out a long-winded growl while grinning at her with insanely joyful eyes. She realized she was already familiar with the feeling of a man emptying his sacks of sperm inside her. She was a little tramp all right.

He then suddenly moved himself back up on his feet. Ann saw what looked like a horn of flesh that stuck out of his light-grey trousers, half-flaccid and covered with a thin shade of her blood. She realized this was his thing. How confused she was! But she wasn't supposed to be seeing this while still a maiden, a damsel who had yet to marry!

Ann let out one wild-goose cry! This was too much! And this looked so disgusting! Men were disgusting! Even her own father! Did he do this inside her poor mother? No wonder she died! She began to cry like a little girl, calling her name. Diana! Diana my dear mother! And then she had flashes of memory where Mother and Father were smiling at each other. Smiling and kissing. Father was happy with her. And she happy with him. Why? Her mind shut down, too confused to think.

Another man laid himself down on her. He was looking down and away from her, as if embarrassed by something. Ann’s senses shut down. She already knew what he was going to do. The worst was the sharp pain that surged inside her and radiated throughout her legs when the man pushed inside her. She already felt that pain in her mind! Was he already inside? She no longer knew her own body!

They always pushed it so deep! Why so deep? Poor Consuelo! She must be in great pain too! And Meg, Rose-Anne, Mary, Mrs. O’Hara… It was so horrible! Why were they so evil? Why?

Because it gave them great joy, Ann realized as she saw the joy on that man's face as he took his joy inside her. They loved doing this to her. They all loved doing this to all the women inside the fort.

The man did his business inside her. It ended with that same awful groan. Then, sure enough, another soldier was there. An officer?! Yes. Golden epaulets. This fringes. Was this the same one? She was too confused to know for sure... All she knew was that he felt painful inside her. Her eyes rolled aimlessly as her aching head kept bobbing, her black hair all dusty on that ground as she took the unthinkable inside her.

It still felt so painful! Yet Ann kept arching her back so her tits would brush against his wool uniform and she could cling to that one tidbit of suave sensations in the middle of that hell of pain and Mexican jeers. Just like a half-naked girl would cling to any shred of torn dress to hide her modesty amid a crew of pirates who just captured the merchant ship she was on, and killed her father.

“AA—AAA AAAaaahhh… Why are you doing this? Why? Why? Whyy—AAAA—AAA—AAAAAA—AAAAAAaaaahh… Rrhaaaa—AAAA—AAAA AAAAA AAAAAAA I’m so disgusting now! Full of filth! AAAAAA—AAA-AAAAA-AAAAAAA—AAAaaaa …”

So many men raping her! Were they going to kill her after? Why didn't they stop?

She was letting them do their thing, trying to manage the pain, her teeth clenched, her head bobbing and no longer caring about anything they were doing. It felt she was going to spend the rest of her life doing just this… being used as a little strumpet by the Mexicans.

*** *** ***

Ann became aware she was being moved; and her garments, whatever was left of them, were being ripped and pulled off her. She was barefoot. Barefoot?! She had no recollection of anyone undoing her shoes, but there she was, barefoot.

As they were violently tearing and ripping and pulling her ruined dress off her along with the white dirty rags that used to be her petticoat, Ann felt their army of Spanish-jeering hands all over her. Ann bitterly cried over her destroyed dress. It was like grieving her mother all over again!

There was the caress of the dirt against her feet and her lower legs as they flipped her around while catcalling her and calling her all sorts of names such as “texana señorita” and “Yankee putita”.

Ann had so many hands on her! Especially on her legs, her feet and her bum, yes, her bum!

They seemed to love touching her, especially her bum. Which the theatrical girl would call her derrière in her mind.

They kept touching her, even though her curves were so modest around her hips, even though her tits were so small compared to her sisters. Ann was so far from looking as womanly as her sisters, and yet those men were on her like flies on a pool of honey… It felt like being wrapped in a blanket of Mexican hands. They were everywhere on her!

Ann felt fingers inside her as well. Then she felt hands on her backside, rough fingers through her dark hair, callused hands reaching under her for her tits as she vaguely realized she was down on all fours. All of this done to her! So revolting! Couldn't they have the decency of at least doing their thing neat and swift?

She felt many wet tongues on her bum. Liquor was poured there. Tequila, aguardiente... They just kept licking her butt! Her legs, her feet... They worshiped her as if she were a little goddess, all this after reducing her to less than filth.

She could tell they were taking immense joy out of it. But why? They ought to find some bigger woman; she was so small everywhere! Yet they didn’t seem to care. They began calling her their lovely little shepherdess.

Amid that press of men, Ann suddenly caught a glimpse of Consuelo, who was presently Eve-nude amid a large pack of soldiers, some of whom were Adam-naked!

Ann could only see that Consuelo had her legs wrapped around a man who stood and kept thrusting himself inside her with great effort. Consuelo’s dark hair was swaying amid this storm of forced sensuality. Consuelo’s pale legs were imprisoning that man’s blue uniform as he thrust again and again inside the noble señorita. They were having Consuelo with her back pinned against a cannon!

Ann saw her no more as men moved and obscured her field of vision, but she would always remember the way Consuelo was moving under that man’s assaults while the others men held her in a position where the man could have her while standing. All those men so eagerly waiting for their turn inside Consuelo de Quesada! Ann would never forget that look of greed and lust on those dark olive faces! Those soldiers were nothing but a bunch of Mexican bandits wearing uniforms. Their General must be just as bad.

Ann felt unexplainable heat from that scene, from the way Consuelo seemed to be entertaining and somehow controlling all these men; Ann felt shreds of heat between her legs as the men kept her on all fours while stroking her everywhere at once with their sensual orgy of greedy hands.

Then there was a strong pair of hands that grabbed her waist. She instinctively knew what was about to.... Aaahhhhr no! It hurts! It hurts so much! Ann loses her grip on anything but that pain. Nothing but the present moment as that man keeps thrusting his greedy lust inside her. Too deep and too hard!

Ann felt her bum, her derrière, as it repeatedly collided with that older man behind her; he was standing on his knees and just kept bumping against her bum. Exactly like what that fat officer had done with Consuelo! Ann felt weirdly proud. Proud of being treated a bit like Consuelo, a noble señorita!

She hated what they were doing to her, but she liked being treated like a noble señorita. Ann de Quesada! She loved the ring of it. It rang like a special Christmas bell and took her soul in a Spanish castle while her body was being defiled on Texas dirt. Only a raped girl knew the lengths her soul would travel in her attempts to escape reality.

Ann somehow got used to this derrière-bumping dance, as her pain somehow got duller. She just tried to let this flow of evil go on her until the end. But then, the man lent onto her—she felt him on her entire back—and he cupped her tits from behind as he pressured himself against her, as if trying to glue himself to her forever.

Ann almost screamed as she felt her nipples literally explode with bursting sensations. Pain and also some sort of mechanical pleasure... She heard the man growl and felt him exhale against the side of her face. He shivered against her, and was no doubt filling her with that milky slime she had seen dripping from the head of a man’s thing earlier.

There was a warm caress on her bum, then the man was gone. Another man came. It began all over again. This one didn’t lean over her. He was very quickly done. When he got up and walked around wearing a smug smile, she saw with horror that he was really old, bald and ugly with scars of small pox on his flabby face. He wore civilian clothes and probably belonged to the enemy supply line.

The next man inside her was painfully big, and really large and strong.

"Pedro! Big Pedro again!"

"The pride of our regiment! The Yankee bruiser!"

"Let's go, Pedro! Flatten those white buns! Let's hear how high she can sing!"

Big Pedro shook her to the point of making her feel nauseous. He shivered with glee as he rode her; she felt it through his large hands where kept caressing her sides. His grunts were so loud this was the only thing she heard amid the ocean of cheers and catcalls.

Were they going to find a cannon and use her on it like Consuelo? Maybe only the highest-ranking ladies had the right to be played on a cannon. While Big Pedro proceeded to rock her very thoroughly and proved how long he could last and remain stiff and hard inside a wench, Ann was getting used to the pain, or perhaps there were just too many sensations at play inside her at that point, like an orchestra playing too many different things. It was a sensual cacophony amid her painful exhaustion.

She suddenly realized that this big man had her tits in his hands while he was taking her very deep indeed. Ann heard a loud, “UUUUUUUNNGH—UUUUUUUUUHHH!” She knew it was over.

The next man pushed her hard against the ground and caused her to lie flat on her belly.

Then, out of nowhere, his Big Something struck her OTHER entrance, the one she used when taking a shit.

Ann felt so surprised! She was unable not to scream from the unbearable pain. She had no idea that hole of hers could also be used for their play.

If she thought this was the worst pain she could ever experience, then she realized she was sorely mistaken.

It got hellishly worse as the Big Something was hammered relentlessly inside her anus, always going a bit deeper in her rectum. Then the pain grew tenfold or a hundredfold. A life-altering pain!

Ann became deaf and blind to her own shriek. There were tiny notes of subtle pleasure in the mix. Ann couldn’t believe she was really experiencing this array of tiny notes of bliss while being in such a great pain.

The men around her were so loud in their cheers and catcalls and jeering, but she didn’t hear anything, not even her soul-tearing shriek. She only heard her pain, from that devil behind her.

But she felt his extreme pleasure through his hands where he was painfully clutching her sore waist while bumping against her bum, relentlessly. Impaling her rectum! She was no doubt being ripped apart!

She kept screaming against that crowded wall of jeers and catcalls, deaf to her own screams and made numb to her own suffering. Her distended anus became her whole universe. Where was God? What was He?

It took her a while to realize that the man was gone.

Ann found herself hoping that the next man would take her usual hole, yet she felt curious, very strangely and morbidly curious about experiencing those notes of bliss again. She knew instinctively that having her anus painfully distended was the only way to such flecks of pleasure. Maybe she would get used to the pain and only the notes of bliss would remain…

The only thing she was sure of was the great number of privates and newcomers around her. The play was far from over.

Ann Blyth wanted to become a stage actress. They gave her a part to play, Eve-nude amid them as they now took her from behind, thus treating her like a noble señorita, like Consuelo. If she was a really good girl, then perhaps they would promote her to using her on a cannon, with her sensitive tits under the sun for all to enjoy…

She was in the role of a slave, flat on her belly, her face in the dirt, her feet being kissed, as one private after another took his pleasure inside her. She had no idea whether she was in the second or third act of that painful, life-altering play. So very far from the final Exeunt. She was enduring a never-ending Ineunt.

TO BE CONT'D