Date: Mon, 4 Jul 2016 16:01:20 +0000 (UTC)
From: Victor Herrmann <doublehelix2632@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Rogue Squad Mission One (Military, Authoritarian, Incest)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. Simple as that. This story
contains some graphic descriptions of violence and cruelty as well as rape
that some readers may find offensive.

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Rogue Squad
by Doublehelix26

Ryan, 28, explosives specialist, white, lean build, 6' tall, blond
short-cropped hair.
Johnson, 27, firearms expert, black, heavy but lean build, 6'3", buzz cut.
Peters, 28, recon leader, white, muscly, 6'2", buzz cut blond.
Ramirez, 29, intel lead, Latino, lean and firm build, 5'7", buzz cut.

They were four US soldiers, part of an elite squad sent into difficult
territories to gather intel, retrieve US assets, extract hostages and take
out enemy targets. They were sent to remote places where the rule of any
semblance of law and order had one been washed away by years of war and
terror. This team went in when all other options had been exhausted, when
no regular army would want to be caught dead anywhere near those
terrains. Rules are for civilised people. This team didn't operate in
civilisation. Often well behind enemy lines, their mission was all that
mattered. How they accomplished it, wouldn't be questioned. And so, as long
as they delivered results - and they always did - no-one cared what they
got up to along the way.

Ryan, Johnson, Peters and Ramirez and been working together for over two
years. Early on, they'd kept up the pretence that they were good soldiers
with values and and morals. But, soon enough, they'd recognised in each
other a desire to have a little fun out there in the field. Armed to the
teeth and trained in the latest techniques of recon and close-range combat,
no-one could mess with them easily. And so, a bit of looting here, a bit of
coercive questioning (aka. torture) there, no-one would ever hold them
accountable. Lines blur quickly when you're out in hell trying to get work
done. And crossing blurred lines is easy.

Now, they weren't necessarily into the same sort of stuff. Ramirez had made
it clear from the start that he wasn't into torturing people. He also
insisted he was straight. Ryan was basically the exact opposite. He had a
knack for 'convincing' people to give up information (and sometimes the
will to live). And he was most definitely not straight. Johnson and Peters
were fairly flexible when it came to having a bit of fun with helpless
victims of all sorts.

This morning they were in Somalia, in a remote area that had not been safe
for years for any Westerners wanting to reach old age. Their mission was to
retrieve an asset that had been lost a few days prior, some laptop or other
taken from a US delegate with security clearance who had met his maker in
some violent fashion and whose body had not been found. The laptop was
easily found but hard to reach due to hostile movement on the ground. The
team had gone in before dawn and with with only four shots fired had
retrieved the asset. Leaving four hostiles dead in their wake.

Now, on their way back to the pick-up point, they had some time to
kill. Rendezvous was at an agreed location some two miles ahead but not for
another three hours. Some bullshit about safety and flight patterns and
weather conditions. Walking leisurely (but always aware of their
surroundings lest some idiots thought to attack them), they passed a few
scattered houses on the way. Huts really. Up ahead was one sitting isolated
in the unending desert wasteland. A woman of maybe 35 in a blue and red
guntiino, the typical local dress, was just entering the house. A young guy
of maybe 18 following her. His topless lean torso was glistening with sweat
in the morning sun. Small-scale farm-work was fairly typical around here.

Ryan poked Johnson with the his elbow and nodded over to the Somali youth
as he just entered the house. Ryan had a horny grin on him at the best of
times, but now he tried to fraternise with Johnson: 'Looks like breakfast
is ready, Johnson.' In response, Johnson gave a grunt and a smile as if to
say 'you dirty fuck.' But he didn't disagree. Peters, who never coped too
well with the heat and the sun (he much preferred missions in cooler
climates), took the initiative to address his unit leader Ramirez:
'permission to rest for a few minutes, Sir?' Ramirez could easily read
between the lines and teased, 'and where would you suggest we rest,
Peters?' - 'That hut over there, Sir, looks like a suitable location.' -
'Make it so,' Ramirez ordered.

The house was fairly small, a central living and kitchen area off the main
entrance and three doors leading probably to simple bedrooms. Latrine out
back most likely. The soldiers knocked hard on the door, which stood open,
but they didn't wait for anyone to answer. 'United States Marines Corps
entering. Lower your weapons. Resistance is futile,' Ramirez
barked. Pointless most of the time in these places cause no-one spoke
English anyway. The four soldiers entered the living area and found the
woman they'd spotted from afar, looking terrified. The 18-year-old boy must
be her son, a lean tall boy, well-built and handsome. His thin linen shorts
didn't cover up too much. A slightly older man, perhaps mid-thirties,
entered the room almost immediately, from one of the adjacent rooms. The
man of the house obviously. Tall, in good shape, a little taller than his
son. Draped in a cloth of fabric, probably naked underneath. Maybe he'd
been sleeping. Behind him, another boy pulled up, may 15, a little short,
muscly but lean. Nice topless torso, a cloth around his waste.

The four soldiers took in the situation. They were fairly clear amongst
themselves who'd take care of what. Since language wasn't going to get them
far with these people (they assumed), they didn't waste their time
talking. Ramirez, the straight guy of the bunch, pulled his handgun and
stepped over to the woman. To his three companions he said, 'we encountered
suspicious movement as we approached this house and decided to enter for
questioning. In the house we encountered resistance.' Which sealed the fate
of this family, the other three knew, and gave them free range to act at
will.

Ramirez points the gun at the woman and gestures her to one of the adjacent
rooms. The father barks something in his native tongue, but the other three
soldiers immediately pull their hand guns, which shuts him up. Ramirez and
the woman are out of sight.

'Time to have some fun, boys,' Ryan announces and, having quickly scoped
out the other two rooms, Johnson and Peters lead the father and his two
sons into what looks like the main bedroom. A wooden beam spans across the
ceiling, which is higher than one would have though seeing the house from
the outside. The raised ceiling above the beam has an opening, probably for
ventilation. Something resembling a double mattress lies on the floor, a
simple dresser and a footstool sit in the corner. Ryan says, 'give me a
second,' and heads outside. He comes back with a length of rope he had
spotted outside earlier. Probably for some farm animal. He holds out the
rope to Peters and says, 'will you do the honours please?' - 'Which one?'
asks Peters, and Ryan, pulling his gun, points at the older son. His horny
grin is back.

Peters understands, makes the boy raise his arms out in front and ties up
his hands with the rope, throws the rope over the ceiling beam and pulls at
it a few times to make sure it's sturdy. Ties the boy's hands back to the
rope so he's now tied to the ceiling beam, arms raised. The father objects
in that ugly language of his, but Johnson just nudges him with his gun,
which shuts him up. No need to get violent with the father. Peters rips the
cloth of the tied youth's waist, revealing a nice long cock, cut and
smooth. The boy's lean ass is perfectly curved. Ryan clearly likes what he
sees. Johnson smiles too. The father is talking again but doesn't move.

Some noise bleeds over from next door. Only briefly. Ramirez is probably
having fun with the mother.

The father is whimpering now, tears rolling down his eyes. But he knows
better than to act out. Ryan gets undressed. He strips off his gear and
uniform, making sure Peters and Johnson have their guns ready, just in case
their victims try something stupid. When he's fully undressed, his
well-toned body shimmers with a hint of sweat. His cock stands erect. In
turn Peters and Johnson get undressed as well. Then they strip the younger
boy who's behaved well until now.

Johnson's bulky black body is impressive, his cock larger than everybody
else's in the room. Peters gestures the father to sit on the floor. The
younger son he pushes onto the mattress. Johnson is greasing his cock with
Vaseline he's kept in his gear. He kneels down and smears Vaseline in the
boy's ass. The kid is probably didn't imagine when he woke up this morning
that he'd lose his virginity today. His 15-year-old virgin ass is going to
get broken in by a large black American cock. When he's suitably greased,
Johnson sets the tub aside for the others' convenience.

Ryan and Peters look on fascinated as Johnson enters the boy. The kid
squeals into the mattress, briefly. His older brother, hands tied to the
ceiling watches and the father is staring silently. Peters, who takes a
piece of cloth and shoves it into the young boy's mouth. Now Johnson takes
his time entering the boy slowly, sliding his large black cock into the
child's tight anus. His large body towers over the boy underneath him, his
tense muscles shimmering with a film of newly-formed sweat. Johnson is
getting into a rhythm, in and out, slowly at first. The room calms down and
Ryan and Peters enjoy the show. Before long, Johnson makes a final effort
to push all the way into the boy's ass. As he bottoms out, he lets out a
lustful groan. The boy whimpers quietly. Now it's time too fuck this
child. Which Johnson does. In controlled slow movements.

'Well, look what we have here!' announces Ryan suddenly, pointing at the
older boy's cock, now erect and pointing out from his lean body. He is
aroused by seeing the black soldier fucking his younger brother! 'That's
sick, man,' Johnson grunts only half seriously, as he works himself into a
frenzy inside the young ass underneath him, looking at the older brother
erect shaft, which Ryan now starts to handle. The younger boy has long
since quietened down. Johnson gives him a good fucking for a short while
longer. Then he cums in his ass, a long eruption of cum flooding into the
boy's belly.  As he pulls out his large tool, strings of semen coat the
glistening shaft. The older boy is still hard, Ryan slowly masturbating
him. Johnson gets up and shuffles through his gears, finds a roll of duct
tape. He walks over to the tied youth and tapes up his mouth. To Ryan he
says, 'if you're gonna hurt this one, we should silence him first.' Then he
says to the room, 'you guys have fun, I'll go and check on Ramirez and that
cunt. And walks out.

Peters lies down with the young boy and enters him without warning. Not
quite as big as Johnson, Peters is still plenty big. And horny as hell. As
he starts fucking the boy, the father doesn't know where to look: at his
younger son getting fucked by another soldier or his older son enjoying a
hand job.

Ryan's turn to have some fun. He touches the tall boy's hard cock and the
youth shivers with joy. Peters sees this and can't help himself: Horny as
fuck from several days of saving up, he cums in the young boy's ass
underneath him sooner that he'd like. Enjoys the last few strokes inside
the boy's anus before he slowly pulls out. He pulls up the young boy and
drags him over to his brother. Shoves him onto his knees so his face lines
up with his older brothers hard cock. Ryan's horny grin is back. He takes
hold of the younger boy's head and pushed him onto his brother's cock.

While the father looks on, his younger son gives his older son a
blowjob. The younger boy seems to know what he's doing. Peters makes sure
he can't get away, holding his head firm down him his brother's
crotch. Ryan helps the older boy along with slow strokes on his cock. The
youth is breathing harder now, pearls of sweat forming on his
forehead. Rock hard himself, Ryan start using his free hand to stroke his
own cock. As the youth gets ready to shoot, his sweaty chest is heaving up
and down. 'Pull the kid off,' Ryan orders Peters, and Peters manages to
oblige just in time for Ryan stroking the older boy to orgasm. The boy lets
out a grunt and breathes frantically. Ryan catches the youth's cum in his
free hand, generous thick strands of warm cum.

When the boy is done shooting, Ryan lets go of the spent cock and
lubricates his own hard cock with the youth's cum. Peters need no promoting
to get the younger brother back in position, back onto the filthy
mattress. Where Ryan lies down to fuck him, his hard cock having waited
patiently for some action. The father watches as Ryan fucks his younger
son, lubed by his older son's cum.

The older boy watches intently. He seems to like what he's seeing. Ryan
fucks the young child underneath without mercy until he cums deep into the
boy's ass. Pulling out he gives a satisfied grin to Peters, who nods back.

They cut the rope off the exhausted youth, remove the duct tape, gather
their things. No evidence left behind. 'All clear' Peters and Ryan assure
each other. Calling over to their colleagues next door, they call out,
'time to move on, team!' Within a few minutes, the four soldiers are packed
up and ready to head for their pick-up point.

Mission accomplished.